Day 005: Grounded
Summary: Ruth, Morgan and Devin discuss their situation while Quinn rests from her wounds.
Date: 05.05.2016
Related: Weather to Take the High Road or the Low
Devin Morgan Ruth 

Prisoner Hold - Cyo Esburg, Trikru
This is a dirty and dark place. It looks as if it is nothing more than heavy wooden walls and a thatched roof. Its floor is covered in a thick layer of everygreen branches to provide some warmth and softness. There is a single door that is sheltered by woven cloth that allows those within to catch flashes of movement outside in the village center. There is always a grounder standing guard, and food and water is provided. Occasionally, someone will call in on the prisoners to see to their wounds.
5 Days After Landing

One would be hard-pressed to rouse Ruth from her fitful psuedo-slumber, one corner of the space allotted Skaikru claimed by the gangly teenager. Classic Ruth, to stake herself a 'personal bubble' before fully discovering what it is she's actually trying to secure. Old habits die hard. Strangely enough, she hasn't yet touched her food or water, but they're held close with the rest of her belongings in the makeshift parachute-made bag that doesn't look like it'll make its way through another night, let alone an ambush.

There's nothing better for pain that taking your mind off of it. It doesn't go away but you manage to forget about it for at least a little bit. Being captured by Grounders is good for pain relief, at least for Morgan. The camp was almost as fascinating as the Grounders themselves. Plus he was worried about the others, especially Quinn. And when a Grounder medic came to treat their wounds, he was busy watching and evaluating their medical knowledge. Now they've been left alone to wait for who knows what. Quinn's asleep so she's at least not conscious of being in pain. He's not so lucky. "What the hell were you thinking?" he asks Devin.

Devin slowly moves along one section of a wall of the hold, looking over the construction and the materials used, then looking up at the thatched roof. Maybe they can use this technique back at the camp to build some shelters. He runs his hand over the wood walls before he finally stops, leans against the wall and slides down, resting his arms on his knees. He glances to Ruth for a moment before moving on to Quinn. Morgan's question causes his attention to drift back to his friend. "I was trying to give you guys a chance to get away." He offers with a slight smile. "You were suppose to run, not give yourself up."

A drained Ruth turns over onto her other side to face Morgan and Devin, her eyes blinking half-open. "Some kinda hero?" she mutters, her fingertips passing over her forehead with a tiny wince. "I think I missed that part," she muses aloud, holding her bag closer. While not exactly haunted, her gaze is almost unfocused. "Guys, it's not just us down here. Even if we survive…"

"I wasn't going to let you get killed." Morgan counters. Not a hero, just loyal to those he cares about. "Yeah, people. Animals and people, even if they are kinda weird looking. That means the radiation wasn't as bad as it was supposed to have been. It's only been a hundred years, not three but obviously there are survivors. I wonder what else we've been lied to about."

Devin frowns a bit as he looks to Ruth, shaking his head. "No. Not trying to be a hero. Just doing what I thought I could to help everyone get away." He looks down at the floor. "If I was the only one to be lost or captured and everyone else got away, I thought it would be worth it." He offers before he looks to Morgan, offering a slight smile. "I was trying to do the same thing." He offers with a soft chuckle. The mention of the grounders, nodding his head. "Yeah. They look almost normal. I mean aside from the markings. No boils. No extra limbs or deformations. It's almost as if the bombs didn't have as much of an effect as we thought."

"This is our home, now," Ruth states with a quiet, fierce sort of pride as her grip tightens on the bag clutched underneath her head. It serves as a bumpy pillow. "We can't go back to the Ark. We aren't wanted there, obviously. We can make this our home, though." Her eyes are bright, and it's difficult to discern whether it's to due fear or determination. Perhaps it's a mixture of the two. "Why haven't they killed us?"

"Well, the deer had an extra head." Morgan notes then corrects. "Well, an extra face. So there must have been some." He shifts position, hissing a bit at the pain as he does, and leans his head back to close his eyes. "Beats me. Maybe they don't kill people without a reason? Maybe they're curious about us? Do you remember those piles of stones? I think they must have been marking their territory like the gangs on the Ark did. Probably why they didn't cross the water into another gang's territory. And we were trespassing so they attacked. We should apologize but not look weak doing it, just like with a gang."

Devin looks to Ruth and smiles, nodding his head. "Yeah, you're right. This is our home now. We are going to have to figure out a way to either get along with these Grounders or we're going to have to find a way to carve out our own territory." He says, looking towards the door at her last question. "I don't know." He offers before Morgan answers. "I think you're right. And I think when Grey kicked one of the rock piles over, it may have been a sign of disrespect or something. Maybe they saw it as an insult."

If anything, the smile offered Ruth's way seems to make her uncomfortable. She buries her face into the bag and utters a low, frustrated groan. "Are you guys okay?" might be heard, her voice muffled. "Like, your wounds. They did… good with poultices." She's obviously loathe to admit it. "It's… old-timey, but if you don't move too much they should be fine." Uncertainty edges her alto nonetheless.

"Probably." Morgan agrees. And he did the same to a second to see if there was a skull in it too. "Grey kept asking how would we survive on our own. Now we have the answer; we don't need to be on our own. We can make friends with these guys so we don't need the Ark. We can help them in return for their help." At Ruth's question, he opens his eyes and looks over at her. "You know medicine? Me too."

Devin takes a few deep breaths as he thinks to himself for a moment before eh looks up to Ruth again, nodding his head. "Yeah. I think I'm okay. I just have a massive headache, but other than that, I feel okay." He reaches up to his face where the arrow almost got him then to the spot the archer got him. He looks between the two and raises an eyebrow. "I'm glad to know we've got you two to make sure we're okay." He says before he looks to Quinn. "I hope she's going to be okay." He didn't know her that well, but she's still one of them.

"Make friends with the people who attacked us and… probably culled some of our number?" Ruth doesn't speak with particular disbelief or heat. She's considering it, though her mouth does flatten some with fleeting disapproval. "Why would we need their help? I think we're doing fine. At least for now. They speak some… different language, anyway, so we can't really communicate." She's mostly thinking out loud, her fingertips tracing along her jawline with light taps. "And, uh… yeah. Some… I guess." She side-eyes Morgan, taking her lips briefly into her mouth. "I remember you from Go-Sci."

"I'll take a look at her once she wakes up." Morgan tells Devin. "She needs rest." She's not the only one; what was used to bandage his chest is soaked with blood and he's careful not to move the arm on that side. He closes his eyes again to take his own medical advice. "Are you hungry? I am. We don't have enough food now. What are we going to do when winter comes? It gets really cold and snows, the history lesson said. And what are we going to do when the Guard comes down and wants to take control of us again? I'm not going to let them kill me. These guys didn't kill us. And we probably gave them a reason to attack us. Think of them like a gang and it makes sense. We can deal with them."

Devin takes a deep breath again and nods his head in agreement with Morgan as he answers Ruth's question. "He's right. Besides, they have survived down here for who knows how long and they know the land. They know what can be eaten. Where water is. How to survive down here. If we can make an alliance with them or something, they can teach us how to live down here. I've studied Earth my whole life and it's nothing like I imagined down here. We're all too use to living on the Ark and we only have that crash course in survival we had before we were dropped."

"If you say so," Ruth intones with a clearing of her throat. She takes a sip of water from the skin it's been stored in, ensuring not a drop leaves it elsewise. It's as if she doesn't expect to get as much as is needed here; those first few days without reliable water down on the Ground appear to have seasoned her in avoiding dehydration. "We need to be careful about what we say. Okay? We don't know what offends them. If we want to do this in a diplomatic way… we need to learn them."

"Did you watch them treat us?" Morgan asks Ruth. "I don't know what the hell they used on us. But they live here, they know things we don't. We need to learn their medicine and what plants they use. We don't have the Ark's technology and medicine to call on when we get hurt." Granted, he's a little worried about what they used just because he doesn't know what it is. But he believes what he said; they wouldn't be using it if it was dangerous to them. "Yeah, we need to be careful. Polite and respectful. Just like with a gang back ho… on the Ark."

Devin looks to Morgan and nods. "We need to learn all we can about these people, I agree. Anything they can teach us would be invaluable." He says, leaning back against the wall, nodding his head in agreement with Ruth. "I agree. We need to be careful. Try not to burn any bridges before we can cross them." He says, looking between the two. "Maybe we should only have one of us talk to them. Let that person speak for us and build a rapport with whoever they send in."

"I don't want anyone speaking for me," Ruth murmurs with quieted intensity, her hands fidgeting about the ratty handle of her bag. "And, um, I'm not sure what they used. We can… ask. Exchange of information?"

"Yeah. Though they have more to teach us that we do them." Morgan points out. "What do we know that they don't? How to use an airlock? It's only been a hundred years; how much could they have forgotten? There's going to be some things but let's not assume they're ignorant. That would insult them and that's what we don't want to do. This is their home. We need them more than they need us."

Devin looks from Ruth to Morgan as they speak. "You want to speak for us?" He asks Ruth as she doesn't want anyone to speak for her, looking towards Morgan again to see what he thinks. His head nods once more at the questions that come from him. "Technology is what we have over them. I don't think they have guns otherwise why would they use bows and arrows? If we can get to Mount Weather and find guns, we have those over them. Our tech is the advantage we have."

"Assuming they haven't already taken Mount Weather," Ruth figures with a blithe cluck of her tongue against the roof of her mouth, "And only use guns sparingly. Why would they use them on a bunch of errant kids?" She gives a small shrug of her shoulders, finally straightening from her place laid out on the floor. "I don't want to assume anything. You're right. We can't underestimate them." She takes a deep, even breath through her nose and lets it out slowly. "I'm the only one here who isn't injured. I'm obviously doing something right." Like running away, not fighting. A shred of guilt finds its way lodged in her throat, blocking further comment. The same cannot be said for her frown.

"Except we don't have any tech." Morgan points out. "And who knows what's in Mount Weather or if it's already been looted. We didn't know anyone was still alive before." Since Ruth didn't deny Devin's question, he says "I think we can all talk to them if we're careful and decide on a plan first. It'll give us a better chance of learning something. Some might be more willing to be friendly than others. We'll have to let Quinn know when she wakes up."

Devin nods his head as he looks back towards the door to the room, listening to the sounds from the world outside the four walls. He looks back to Morgan after a moment and nods. "We may not have tech now, but who knows what we could find." His eyes drift to Ruth. "And you're right. Maybe they have raided Mount Weather already." He says, his lips turning down into a small frown. He is silent for a moment. "Okay. Let's come up with a plan. How much to we share and what do we keep to ourselves?"

"We don't share the exact location of our camp," Ruth decides hushedly, sitting forward with her elbows propped on her knees, legs crossed. An absent glance is sent towards the door leading into the village. "We don't say our number. We tell them we're from the sky and, um… we have valuable information." She rubs at the side of her neck with her fingertips, carefully deliberating her next words. "About Mount Weather. If they don't already know it's there, somehow… well, I don't know what it looks like. For all we know, it could be in the mountain and hidden after all these years."

"But don't lie." Morgan says. "I think we should just tell them we're not going to tell them. Be honest about it. Obviously, we know how many of us there are so 'I don't know' will just sound dumb. If we say too few, we're weak. Too many and we're competition and a threat. I think I heard them call us 'sky' something so they already know we're from the Ark. We can admit to that."

"And we need to explain to them why we were crossing the river." Devin says after a moment. "Tell them we did not know we were in their territory and we meant no disrespect." He looks to the others. "With the way we came in, I think anyone who lives on the planet knows we came from the sky." He says with a slight chuckle. He looks to Morgan as he mentions hearing what the Grounders called them. "I thought I heard that too. I don't know what it was, but I heard sky."

"We don't know how similar their language is to ours… but maybe it's an advanced dialect?" Ruth presses her fingertips into her cheeks, briefly puckering her mouth. "It sounds short, brutal. Savage. We'll be truthful, then. Try to convince them that…" She is given pause, her neutral, lidded gaze trailing to Quinn. "That we can help them as much as they can help us. That we aren't worth killing. And if they don't agree with that…" She looks back to the two conscious delinquents, expression grim. "We tell them that the Ark is eventually coming down. And they'll kill whoever kills us."

There is movement outside, and then the rough woven door is pulled back to reveal a tall and well-muscled woman. A human woman in fact. Her hair is wet and teased back into a curly tail; it drips with black, sooty water at her neck and shoulders. Her face is rather stern, if not totally unreadable, though it is young — older than the delinquents, but perhaps early twenties. Her lightly tanned skin is dirty with ash and grime, but it is also tattooed in tribal-style patterns. She is carrying a wide, shallow bowl that had once been a rather large hubcap. One edge of the cap is set against her right hip, while her right hand clasps the opposite side. She regards the three — well, four if you count the unconscious Quinn — standing just within the door.

"Yeah, they had to have seen the ship coming down." Morgan agrees. "So we're from the Ark, we were exploring, and we didn't know anyone was still alive down here. We're sorry we were trespassing and were surprised to see them." What Ruth says makes him open his eyes again. "No. Not that we're not worth killing. That we're too valuable to kill. And no, no threats. Don't threaten them ever. Gangs don't take well to that. They…" Hearing movement right outside, he shuts up and looks over as the door opens and openly returns the scrutiny.

Devin nods his head in agreement with the plan that they are coming up with. "If they think we're threatening them, they may take it out on us." He offers before he hears the movement outside. He immediately falls silent and looks towards the door where he sees the woman. He doesn't move his eyes from here, but doesn't make any attempt to move nor speak to her. Just watches.

Ruth finds herself backing up in her seat against the wall as the Grounder woman makes an appearance, looking for all the world like a cornered and desperate creature in that moment rather than an Ark-raised girl from a relatively well-to-do family. She keeps her expression even, though, despite the protective clutch she keeps to her bag. It's as if she expects the woman to snatch it from her. "Hello," she offers in mild greeting, speaking in a low, level alto.

The Grounder advances into the hold. Something about her movements is familiar — particularly to Devin. She squats down to set the repurposed bowl a few feet away from the three on the floor, revealing its contents. Food. Not much of it, but food nonetheless. There are several strips of venison, a couple handfuls of berries, and four shallow cups of water. She says nothing, forearms resting against her thighs as she remains in her low squat. Her brown eyes are curious, moving over each of the Sky People in turn. Then she starts to rise. When Ruth speaks, the Grounder cannot help but raise an eyebrow.

Morgan watches the Grounder both curiously but warily. When the bowl is set down, he looks at what it contains then back to the woman. "Thank you." he tells her. Then using the arm opposite the side that had an arrow in it, he touches his chest. "Morgan." Pointing to Devin, he says "Devin." Followed by "Ruth." and "Quinn." With accompanying gestures. Then he motions to the Grounder.

Devin briefly glances towards Ruth as she greets the woman then watches her as she moves into the room. Her movements indeed do seem familiar, but he doesn't make any attempt to move towards the bowl as it's set down. As Morgan makes introductions, he keeps his eyes on the woman. When his name is said, he offers a slight nod of his head as way of greeting before he waits to see if she'll offer her name or not.

Ruth pokes her head forward, one hand braced against the wall as if she's entirely prepared to make any quick movements if the Grounder woman does. The food earns a very slight furrow of her brow. She mouths the words 'feeding us?' to herself, gaze briefly wandering from the Grounder woman to her fellow prisoners to gauge their reactions.

The Grounder follows Morgan's gestures when he introduces them in turn, but when it is her turn, she just narrows her eyes slightly. "Eat," she says finally, though the word has a strange accent to it. Can't possibly be her name, can it? She gestures to the bowl of food, and then starts to make her departure once more. She does look over her shoulder, her curiosity quite palpable. She ducks out through the door once more, letting it fall shut.

Morgan watches the woman leave without saying anything till she disappears. "Eat." he agrees, glancing to the others. "She's curious. We can use that. She'll talk to us eventually. We might be able to make her a friend. Or at least not an enemy." He starts to lean forward and reach for the food but grunts and his face grimaces in pain. "Could you bring that closer, Devin?"

Devin looks towards the woman as she leaves and then looks back to the food that has been left behind. He lets out a deep breath once the woman leaves before he stands up on his feet again. "We did learn one thing at least." He says as Morgan asks him to bring the plate closer. "They know English on some level." He picks up the plate and cups and moves it closer to Morgan and sits down next to him, motioning for Ruth to join them so they can eat. "Remember to save some for Quinn." He's sure he doesn't have to remind them, but says it anyway.

"Thanks." Morgan reaches for some of the deer meat and just tears off a piece with his teeth. How quickly table manners have fled when there are no knives and forks. "Yeah. Language probably just… you know, devolved I guess. I'm sure we can pick it up quickly if we pay attention. This might be a good thing." he decides. "We could have allies against the Ark if they try to take over once they're down here. And if we can learn how to survive, we'll have the advantage here. They'll need us more than we need them."

Devin picks up a piece of the meat and tears into it, chewing the meat. He nods his head as he looks at the hunk in his hand. "Not bad." He admits, having the first piece of grounder food he's had. "I was thinking the same thing. If we can learn their language, we can listen in on what they're saying and have a better chance to communicate." He says before he smirks at the mention of the Ark. "I'm almost certain that they're going to take over if they come down here. The adults and the council are going to want things to be exactly how it was on the Ark and they're going to want us to go back to following orders."

"And kill the ones who argue." And the ones they've already decided to kill. "No, I think this can be a good thing." Morgan decides. "We need to make friends with them. Convince them to help us. Maybe let them know we're not working for the Ark but got sent down here without even being asked. That we want to be free of them."

Ruth all but ignores the meat in favor of the berries and one of the shallow cups of water. She eats with deliberation rather than gusto, content to let the other two speak. Not that she isn't involved in their discussion; her gaze darts between them as though their back in forth is a sport that she has particular investment in.

"You need protein." Morgan tells Ruth. He looks over at Quinn to make sure nothing's changed then looks back to the other girl. "So, you've been listening. What do you think?"

"You want us to… rally against the adults on the Ark," Ruth says delicately, her mouth pursed about a blueberry she's keen on savoring in tiny nibbles. "It's definitely an option. We need to learn the politics of these people, if they have any. We need to learn their rules, and compare them with ours, and decide what we're willing to sacrifice in order to keep ourselves alive long enough to even…" She takes a deep, shuddering breath, her voice having gotten a bit thick with tension in the process of delivering her spiel. "I don't like sacrificing things. It's not, uh, really my thing. But, um… while we're here, we need to do our best to stay alive. It's just the four of us right now. Who even knows what happened to the rest?"

"I also don't like…" She gestures to the meat with a jerk of her hand. "You know. Eating that. It makes me feel sick to my stomach."

"We're adults." Morgan points out. "They'd have floated us if they hadn't sent us down here. I'm not going to let Jaha kill me." he states. He obviously believes that's going to be the outcome if the Chancellor has his way. "I don't believe their bullshit about pardons. Not for all of us." The thieves, maybe. Someone who killed the Chief of Medical? No way. "When they get down here, they're going to want to stay in power and keep things the way they were. I'm not going back to that. But we have options." He tears off another piece of meat and chews as he listens to Ruth. "We have an opportunity here. We also need to get them to not hurt the others. There's no need for it."

"You have high hopes on people that… have spoken very few words, and maybe only one word in our language," Ruth murmurs to Morgan, keen on keeping quiet due to the close quarters of their cell. It'd be all too easy to wake the injured Quinn. Oddly enough, she seems pretty comfortable in here, all things considered. Like as not, she's accustomed to enclosed spaces, taking solace in this situation rather than fearing it. It certainly shows in a relaxed twist of her mouth as she considers Morgan's point. "I hope you're right, that they'll be able to help our cause. I'd rather not die. I just… can't believe it. People, after all this time, have been down here. The entire time, Blackwood."

"It beats assuming they're going to kill and eat us." Morgan points out. "We lose nothing by trying to get them on our side. Either ours personally or ours all of us who came down." The two groups don't necessarily overlap in interests. "Yeah, this place was supposed to be destroyed. A radioactive ruin for another two centuries. What else did they lie to us about?"

"Wait, lie?" Ruth's twisted mouth curls into a slightly disdainful smile. Ah, there she is. "Why would they send us down, in an obvious test, if they knew for sure it was survivable? They would have come down with us, in that case. Or they would have come down first and left us to rot on the station." She obviously has a rather low opinion of the higher-up decisions on the Ark. Her hair is bat behind her shoulders with a tiny sniff, the very picture of a posturing prat. "But, yes, okay. We already agreed we'd be nice. Oh, and you can have my share of the meat."

"Because they didn't know how survivable." Morgan counters. "Had they told everyone that the Earth could support life in places after only a century? You think anyone would have just patiently waited till the Council decided it had been long enough? Why didn't we get a geiger counter if they thought it was still bad so we could at least avoidt he worst parts? They knew. Just just didn't know specifics." At the mention of the meat, he frowns. "You need it. You're not going to get what you need from fruits and berries. You know that, if you're a medic. Eat it."

"Or they really didn't care about us at all and sent us into the dark because they're… desperate." About what, Ruth has no idea. She wraps her arms about her knees and stares dolefully at the meat offered by the Grounders. "I don't like knowing I've eaten something that… moves. That was once alive." She looks queasy at the mere thought, turning her gaze from the meat so she can stare Morgan down. "I'll find something else that's protein-rich to make up for it. I'll ask… Cookie. She'll know."

Morgan looks at the meat in his hand then glances down and nods. "I know." he agrees softly. "I helped kill a deer the other day and…" He just shakes his head. "You need to eat it, Ruth. We need to stay strong in order to stay alive. We don't know how long we're going to be here. It could be days or weeks or longer. You want to survive down here? You need to eat meat."

"I said no," Ruth snaps rather suddenly when Morgan keeps pushing the point, her voice edged with a frustrated growl. She buries her face in her arms immediately after, forehead resting on her raised knees. In a quieter voice no less severe, she adds, "I'll find an alternative, okay? There has to be one."

"We'll save it for you. We can't afford for you to get weaker, not here." Morgan says. "And even if you can get them to understand you, I don't think they'll understand why you're starving yourself." I don't want to eat the cute bunny not being an attitude conducive to survival. Shifting the meat to his free hand, he takes his cup to set down nearby then his share of berries. "I wasn't watching her. Did you see what happened to Quinn?"

A quick scan is given the contents of Ruth's bag. She nods once at what she finds. "I still have some of the food from earlier. The stuff Cookie made, remember?" She holds up some of the food bundles. She's taken it upon herself to make a leaf wrap for each, keeping it as clean as possible. Not an easy feat on the ground, for sure. "I'll be fine. Lay off, okay?" It's not said rudely. If anything, with that frustration blown over, her eyes crinkle with something approaching appreciation. "She got an arrow in the stomach, right?"

"Did you see where?" Morgan asks, looking over to Quinn. "Shit. If it punctured something vital or the intestine, she's fucked." His bedside manners leaves something to be desired. He glances down at his chest and adds "One inch over and I'd be dead too. No way to fix a lung down here."

"You'd both be fucked," Ruth intones grimly. They have that awful bedside manner thing in common. "She was making pained noises earlier," she says, brightening some. What a weird thing to be happy about. She continues on to explain, "When a patient is not feeling pain, or not reacting, it means… well, there's little you can do for them. These people seem pretty seasoned in war. They ambushed us neatly." She gestures up above their heads as though to simulate the skirmish, fingers falling to represent the Grounders dropping down from the trees. "Up from above. They're probably, um, pretty good at healing with what they have."

Morgan nods his agreement. "Yeah, that leafy thing they have on Quinn… I'd love to know what it is exactly. And that paste they put on me. It smells herbal. We need to learn what they know so we can stay alive. We can use it to help the others too." First priority, themselves. Second, the other Delinquents. At least the ones he likes. He doesn't seem overly upset about the two the Grounders killed.

"Right," Ruth agrees airily, relaxing back against the wall with a low, tired exhale. "It's been such a long day… and it's not even over."

"It's not been over since they loaded us onto the dropship." Morgan points out. "It's not going to be over any time soon. Not till we're dead." So comforting. "We're in a good position though. Alive, eating better than at the ship, fresh water." Sure, some of them have holes in them but hopefully the herbal stuff is antiseptic and will stop an infection. If not, fucked. "If we can make friends with these guys, it'll all be worth it."

"You know, I'm about ready to hit you, Mister Positive," Ruth half-jokes, her jawline once more rubbed by her fingertips. "When do you think they'll be back?" She stares at the door as if expecting it to open at this question alone. When it doesn't, she frowns thoughtfully. "What are they waiting for? Do they expect me to sleep here? Here?" She prods her heel into the floor, sucking on her teeth.

Devin has been quiet as he eats his piece of the meat and berries, washing it down with some of the water. He quietly listens to the others as they speak, the events of earlier in the day starting to sink in and process now that they've gotten a chance to sit and think. He looks up to Morgan as he speaks about becoming friends and finally speaks up. "Hopefully, they're open to diplomacy." He offers, hope in his voice. He glances back towards the door at Ruth's question. "Maybe when they think we've finished eating?" He offers with a slight shrug of his shoulders.

Morgan smiles a bit at Ruth's comment. He's trying to convince himself as much as everyone else. "I don't know. And yeah, I'd assume we're going to sleep here so you might as well get comfortable. They'll probably have their medic look in on us again at least." Devin's comment gets a nod. "Hopefully they will be. It's up to us to give them a reason to be. And since we're in no condition to escape anyway, we might as well try. I'm not confident in my ability to kill them all and escape just yet. Maybe after a nap."

Ruth laughs delightedly at Morgan's boast, the sound muffled into her hand. She side-eyes him with a slight shake of her head. "We can't do anything but our best, at this point." Lord only knows why Ruth isn't miserable as she should be, locked up in here like this. "Morrison, if they weren't, we'd probably be dead already. Just saying."

Devin smiles a little at Morgan, nodding his head. "Yeah. This is where we either start building a friendship or the beginning of a war." He offers before he looks to Ruth. He can't help but chuckle at her words. "You're right. Let's just hope for the best." He says as he lays down on his side, trying to get comfortable. Who knows how long they're going to be here.

"I don't know that the bear guy is all that interested." Morgan cautions. "But that woman, she is. But I bet they want info. Why are we here? Let's be sure to all tell them the same thing. We got sent down. Why us? We're not in favor with the Council. We didn't know anyone was still alive down here. All perfectly true."

"Don't insult our intelligence," Ruth says with a casual grin. She thumbs at the side of her nose. "Tell the truth, we know."

Devin can't help but laugh softly, nodding his head to Ruth and Morgan. "Just stick to the truth and we'll be fine. Check." He says as he lays down on his back, looking up at the roof. He rests his hands behind his head as a cushion. "I think it's the waiting that is the hardest part."

"How many years have you been waiting to get Floated?" Morgan asks Devin. "This should be easy." It is for him. "I just wish waiting didn't hurt so much."

Ruth lapses into silence, fingertip tracing absently at the floor.

Devin grins and chuckles, looking to Morgan. "I know. You'd think thirteen years in the box would make it easier, but it doesn't. I hate waiting because of that very reason." He says as he looks back up at the ceiling, his eyes starting to drift close.

Morgan was under a certain death sentence for over two years. Here he has a chance. That makes things easy. "I wonder if they have any painkillers? I know opioids came from plants originally. Not that I'd know how to make any. It's more complicated than boiling bark, I'm sure." He finishes his share of venison then says "I wonder who lives on the other side of the river that they didn't want to chase the rest of us."

There is a soft scrape of something outside, and then the jangling sound of a bag or some other container being dropped just outside the door. The Grounder woman draws back the woven flap, tying it open so that there is a bright shaft of late afternoon sun piercing through the shadows of the shanty. She drops heavily within the doorframe, back to the four. She looks over her shoulder, counting to make sure they are all there, and then she goes back to looking out into the village center. She starts to gnash on a bit of jerky, but is otherwise quiet.

Ruth's eyes squint half-shut agains the light of the late sun, a hand raising to block it in strategic fashion so she'll still be able to see the Grounder woman. At least, until said grounder woman tears into the jerky. Then, that hand covers sight of HER, too.

Devin sits up and looks back towards the door as the woman reenters the room. As the sun continues to shine into the room, his hand moves up to cover his eyes, squinting a bit as he tries to look at her. He glances back towards Ruth, to Quinn then to Morgan before returning back towards the Grounder woman.

Morgan narrows his eyes against the constant light until he gets used to it. Like the others, he looks toward them before looking back to the woman. "What. is. your. name?" he asks slowly, making sure each word is clear.

The woman turns toward Morgan at the question. She continues to chew on her jerky, almost thoughtfully. She looks back out at the village center just as a man in heavy sheepskins goes past, guiding some heavy ewes. Her strong shoulders roll slightly, and she speaks without looking back over her shoulder. "Yu beda nou az nautim." She smirks slightly, a touch of amusement. Then she gestures, pointing up at the sky and then she points at them. Her expression betrays her curiosity.

When Ruth's hand finally lowers, it's to reveal a blank frown. She only just manages to keep it polite. "We don't understand," she conveys apologetically to the woman sans the slow-speech, her mouth pursing ruefully. The gesture of the woman's hand upward, however, is not missed. "But… yes. We came from the sky."

<FS3> Devin rolls Wit+Wit: Great Success.

Devin lowers his hand from his eyes as they adjust to the amount of light pouring in. He glances to Morgan then back to the woman as he asks her name, frowning slightly as she doesn't answer in English, but her own language. His brow creases a bit as he watches her, a slight smirk appearing at the corner of his mouth for a moment, disappearing as quickly as it appears. As Ruth answers her, he nods his head in agreement, allowing the two of them to speak at the moment. He just sits there, studying her.

"You better now as…" Morgan repeats, trying to make sense of what she said. At the nonverbal question, he motions to the four of them, points to the sky then nods. "Then he says Morgan. Devin. Ruth, Quinn." and points at each of them, ending on the woman.

The Grounder chews on another bit of jerky, keeping her gaze out at the village center. She arches her back a bit, scratching at the base of her spine as she does. When her shoulders roll, there is a flash of a deep scar running crossways at the back of her neck, almost as if something had tried to decapitate her. She doesn't respond when once again Morgan tries to prompt her name. She just waits, showing she is listening, but not exactly willing to make this a fair exchange. She doesn't say anything more, but gestures invitingly for them to continue to speak.

A tired Ruth allows her eyes to drift shut, agitation curling her upper lip just so. Instead of speaking to the warrior woman, she addresses her fellow imprisoned. "Unless we find someone who can communicate in our language, we're not going to get very far." In an obvious attempt to calm ruffled nerves, she combs her hair back with splayed fingers and takes a deep breath. She tries one more question in vain to the woman, her flat tone indicating she has no hope of it being understood. "What do you want?" she wonders, voice drained of anything approaching enthusiasm.

Devin shakes his head as he looks to Morgan as he tries again to tell her to tell them her name. "She said we better not ask." He says, feeling like he got an idea of what she said. He looks back to the woman, to see if she verifies his translation. He doesn't say anything more, but lets the others continue doing the talking.

<FS3> Opposed Roll — Stealth=8 Vs Alertness=4
< Stealth: Good Success Alertness: Success
< Net Result: Stealth wins - Marginal Victory

Morgan frowns at the lack of response and glances at the others. What Devin said gets his interest. "You understood her? You better now as. You better not ask. But what's Nautrim mean?" It's rhetorical, of course, since none of them know. Except the Grounder.

The Grounder looks at the three, head tilted over her shoulder. She looks thoughtful, tapping the bit of jerky against her lip. Then she casually turns to her bag, securing the jerky strip between her back teeth. She digs through the sack for a moment, and then pulls out a bracelet — it is about two inches wide, and slightly damaged as if someone had gone smashing it with a rock. Freshly dried blood stains part of the metal. She flings it at them, it landing in a small roll in the heavy cuttings of evergreen. It is one of their bracelets. She looks at it, and then up at them, conveying a silent question with the slight narrowing of her eyes.

Ruth regards the woman neutrally, at least until the bracelet is cast down. Her nostrils flare with a swift inhale: she likely realizes that this belonged to one of their number now dead. After swallowing thickly, se manages a terse, "Is she mocking us?"

Devin shrugs his shoulders slightly at Morgan's response. "I think so. I think I understood 'better not' and then 'ask'." He says as he looks over to the boy. "That's all I understood." His attention returns back to the grounder as she moves to her bag. As she pulls out the bracelet, his eyes widen a bit before he looks to the one still on his wrist then to the one she tosses to the ground. His eyes focus on the blood still on it before he slowly lifts his gaze up at her. "That's ours." He says slowly as he lifts his arm to show her the one he still wears, he says shaking his head to Ruth. "I don't think so." He tries to study the grounder's face, trying to figure out what she's wanting from them.

"Don't think so." Morgan asks. He shrugs in answer to her look and holds his own wrist up, sans bracelet. But he uses a finger to indicate the small marks where the needles went in. Silver helped him remove it before he left so the punctures haven't had time to heal yet.

The Grounder nods slightly at the confirmation — a small, tiny gesture. Then she takes a breath, and swings herself on her tailbone to face them in profile. This allows her to easily look at them, and them her. She looks at the bracelet again, and then displays her own wrist. She has a bracelet of her own, but hers is of woven hairs — horse hairs, maybe? She pulls slightly at it, and then looks back at the bloody bracelet in the evergreens. Maybe she wants to know what it does, or why they have them, or even if they can take them off?

Ruth has no answer for the grounder woman, her own bracelet held close to her person as she stares at the one on the ground. It would be too easy for the woman to assume that they are a lifeline, or some such thing, considering so many of the delinquents wear them. But, no. Ruth's face has paled considerably, her eyes failing to drift back to their visitor in favor of staring blankly at their piece of Ark technology. "This probably came from one of the ones they killed," she tells her companions in a low, careful voice. "You realize that, right?"

Devin continues to watch the grounder woman as she spins in place and shows off the fiber bracelet. He looks to Ruth as she speaks, nodding his head slightly. "Probably." He says simply before he looks back to the grounder woman, spotting the cut on her arm that he gave her. He motions to Morgan who is missing his bracelet. "Some of us choose to remove them." He then motions to his own and Ruth's that are still there. "And some of us don't. It allows our people to monitor us and make sure we're still alive." It's really all he does know about them. He doesn't even know how much it hurts to remove them.

"Yeah, I do." Morgan tells Ruth. "Faolan says we shouldn't blame the Council for trying to kill us to protect themselves. So why should we blame them for the same thing?" he asks, nodding toward the woman. And the dead guys weren't his friends though he'd have saved them if he could have.

That causes the Grounder's eyes to narrow abruptly. She glances out at the village center, and then back in at the captured skaikru. She makes a split decision then and rolls further into the tent. She rises up into a crouch, moving forward low and careful — almost nonthreatening. She reaches out for Devin's wrist, gesturing with her long, lightly scarred fingers. She is very specific… she wants his hand that also bears the bracelet.

Maybe Ruth had different feelings for the deceased, but she bristles at the nonchalant manner in which the other two conscious delinquents respond to this scrap of information. "I blame them because we didn't do anything that was worth taking life," she snaps in a hissed whisper to Morgan, the camaraderie of their earlier conversation all but vanished in her brief showing of grief. "We're trying to stay alive. We didn't provoke them. And now we're here, some are dead— do we even know how many? And…" Oh, and she'd likely continue, but she smartly presses her lower face into her arm, which rests on a knee, to make herself silent. The previously bear-masked grounder woman is regarded with a low-key glare. Thankfully, Ruth isn't in her direct line of sight.

Devin's eyes widen a bit at the sudden movement from the woman as she moves closer to him, but he stands his ground. As her hand reaches out, he expect her to grab it, but instead she points. He blinks a few times at this before he looks at her hand then to his wrist and back up at her. He casts a quick glance towards Morgan then to Ruth before he looks back to the woman. He takes a deep breath and extends his arm to her.

Morgan can put two and together. "You understand us." he says accusingly. It's really the only explanation for her reaction right after what Devin said. "I know how to get it off. I had mine taken off. I'll need something to pry with though." And it's still a little painful. Just not as much as sheer brute force.

The Grounder makes no apparently effort to respond to Morgan besides the faintest glance. Then she starts to look over Devin's wrist, turning it over with curious care. She notices the point where the bracelet closes. She mutters something under her breath that sounds vaguely like 'mauman'. Mountain, maybe? Abruptly, her fingers tighten hard on Devin's wrist with a vice-like grip. She immediately draws out her knife from her belt, the weapon blade dark and edges gleaming.

Alarm crosses Ruth's features and she's standing in a flash, posture tensed in a coil with hands braced against the wall of their prison hut. "Get away from him!" she raps out sharply, tone wavering just a touch. She knows she doesn't have the upper hand. "Please." The word is added in a shaky exhale. "We don't want to fight you."

<FS3> Ruth rolls Persusaion: Success.
<FS3> Ruth rolls Persuasion: Great Success.

As the woman grabs his wrist, his entire body tenses and when the knife comes out, his eyes widen and he inhales sharply. "Oh shit." He says as he instinctively tries to pull his arm back and to move away. At Ruth's outburst, his breathing gets heavier. "I'm sorry. I didn't mean that crack about you fighting like a girl. I promise." He starts to blurt out. Those on the Ark who are monitoring his vitals would definitely see a huge spike in his heart rate and stress levels.

"Let me do it." Morgan urges the woman. With the arrow hole in his chest, he's not going to try to stop her physically. He knows he'll lose and it's not like Devin's in any real danger. "It's going to hurt him if you do it wrong. You've already hurt us enough. We haven't done anything to you that you need to do it more."

<FS3> Morgan rolls Persuasion: Good Success.
<FS3> Andromeda rolls 6: Good Success.

The Grounder sets a hard look at Ruth, and then she looks back at Devin. Her fingers tighten on his wrist with almost blinding pressure. She does not seem like she is going to give up, though there is the smallest flash of hestiation from the otherwise stoic woman. Giving a knife to these captives is not in the cards, but she does look at Morgan as she sets the tip of the blade against that crack in the bracelet where it had been snapped together around Devin's wrist. She waits for him to confirm if this is the right spot.

The hard look sent Ruth's way seems to cause her to lose at least two inches in height as she sinks back against the wall. She's still taller than the grounder, though, considering the other woman was five and a half feet tall yesterday and likely still is today. She says little more, her gaze trained unblinking on Devin's wrist.

Devin's breathing continues to become heavier as each moment passes. His eyes dart between Morgan and the woman as she places the knife on his bracelet where it splits. He looks to Morgan with a look in his face that says 'Please don't let her mess up'. He tightens his lips together as he looks back to the bracelet and the knife, trying to calm himself and his breathing down.

"Get him something to rest his wrist on." Morgan tells her and uses a finger to indicate the other side of the bracelet. "There are needles on the inside of it sticking into his arm." Which she knows since she's seen one removed. "It'll shift around and cut him up as you pry at it, if it's not braced firmly. We figured out how to do it with a minimum of pain and blood." Well, Silver did. Close enough. "Please. I'll tell you how to do it." Reaching out, he squeezes Devin's shoulder then looks to the Grounder.

The Grounder looks momentarily like she doesn't understand, but then she makes a quick and sudden movement that kicks over the hubcap that had stored their food and water cups, and kicks it in under Devin's wrist. She plants it down hard on the metal, and immediately prys the knife in between the gap in the bracelet before roughly snapping it open with brute force. It slightly damages her knife, leaving a small notch in the metal. Otherwise, the bracelet pops off… but not without a bit of pain to poor Devin. Yeah, maybe she is getting him back for that girl thing.

Ruth voices a short string of profanity rather special to the Ark. They wouldn't be words likely known by the Grounders, or… anyone of good repute, really. She shoves her own wrist behind her back, momentarily at a loss for ACTUAL words.

<FS3> Devin rolls Resolve: Failure.

Devin has a momentary moment of panic as the grounder moves suddenly and quickly as she gets the hubcap. As she actually starts to work on the bracelet, he wines and grits his teeth in an attempt to not let out a cry of pain as she forcefully removes the bracelet. Unfortunately, Devin doesn't make it and he lets out a shout of pain as the needles in his arm move about with the effort of the grounder woman.

Morgan nods as the woman acts, getting the hubcap and at least not bungling the job like she could have. Though she did scatter all of Quinn's food and water and the venison Ruth wouldn't touch. It also confirms she knows exactly what they're saying. "A little slower and more of an angle before you twist the knife." he tells her, squeezing Devin's shoulder and giving him a quick look to make sure he's okay. But they're tiny needles so it's more painful than damaging. "Ruth, you want to come over her and put your wrist on the hubcap?" It's going to happen, she might as well volunteer for it.

A glance is sent to Quinn as the injured girl sleeps, a swift and deep breath taken through Ruth's nose. "We should focus on Quinn," she coughs after a swallow, her lifting just slightly. "Make sure her wounds are okay." She circles her bracelet around to her front, but rubs it almost protectively with her other hand as her eyes drift back to Devin. "And yours," she adds authoritatively.

The Grounder claims the bracelet, and then looks at Ruth. She does not seem to make an immediate move to retrieve Ruth's bracelet, but that will happen in time. There is something in her expression that suggests so. She stands slowly, taking both the bloodied and battered bracelet and the one she just recovered. She starts to move for the door again, leaving the hubcab and scattered foodstuffs.

Poor Quinn. Despite Ruth's original argument, she doesn't even step her way. Instead, she returns to her seated place against that wall, slowly sinking down. She has no words.

Devin rubs his wrist as he watches the woman gathers his bracelet up with the other and starts towards the exit. He looks towards Morgan and Ruth again before he looks back to the woman. "I hope your arm is okay." He offers to the woman as he motions towards the cut on her arm, his voice is sincere.

Morgan's wound is wrapped and he slips a finger under the wrapping to get some of the sticky paste they used on it. Reaching over, he rubs it onto Devin's wrist where the needle pricks are. "Should be an antiseptic." he explains. Assuming they know what they're doing. He'll wait till the Grounder is gone before saying "We need to be careful about what we say now. She obviously understands us."

<FS3> Ruth rolls Resolve: Good Success.

"I don't like this," Ruth says in a hushed whisper, pressing her fingertips at her lower lip to pick at dead skin there. "At least we knew what would happen on the Ark. It was routine, every day. Here?" She glances around the prison hut, her eyes blinking very slowly. "We have no idea what's going to happen next, where we are, whom we're dealing with." She manages to convey this in a neutral tone, her lean against the wall rather relaxed despite the nature of her words. "We could easily die here and no one back at camp would know what happened."

Devin looks up to Morgan and nods his head. "I'm sorry. Thank you." He says to her as he looks to Ruth as she speaks up, frowning slightly. "It's going to be okay, Ruth. We're going to get out of this. We won't let anything happen to us." He looks back to Morgan and nods. "It's obvious she knows what we were saying. Those reactions were too quick." He agrees. "You're right. We really need to be careful what we say. We'll get through this." He says again.

"Routine right up to the moment they shove you out an airlock." Morgan points out. "Look, I don't like being a prisoner either. But we've been given food and water, our injuries have been treated better than we could have done, and we're not even tied up. She could have been a lot rougher than she was but she was willing to listen and not make it worse than it had to be. We'll be okay and make this work out for us. For us all." he adds.

"Look, I don't even mind the room," Ruth starts airily, gesturing about the space with an idle wave of her hand. "It's not knowing whether anyone else is okay. It's her just… throwing down the bracelet of a friend who might be dead. It's…" She gives a slight shake of her head, falling silent after that.

Devin takes a deep breath as he looks between Morgan and Ruth as they speak, nodding a bit before he moves closer towards Ruth to give her a bit of support, but he doesn't touch her. "It'll be okay." He offers again. "As long as we stick together and support each other we'll get through this. It'll be okay." He says as he looks to her then back to Quinn. "At least she's getting some rest." He says, his voice softly.

The appreciative smile Ruth shows Devin is fleeting. Her bag is grabbed and held once more to her chest, acting as a proper chin rest. "She deserves it," she whispers just as softly, eyeing Quinn thoughtfully.

"We should all get some rest." Morgan suggests. "It's been a long day and we're all hurt." Just some less than others. "You should try to save as much of the food as possible and put it back in there." Reaching out, he turns the hubcap over.

Devin lets out a deep breath and nods in agreement with Morgan as he mentions stockpiling the food. "Yeah. We may need it." He says before he looks to the hubcap that Morgan turns it over. He tilts his head slightly as he looks at it for a long moment. "That's metal…" He says after a metal, his eyes widening slightly. "Can we break that some how? Get some pieces from it?" He asks as he looks around the room for a moment, trying to see if there's anything they can use.

At Devin's suggestion, Ruth frowns and scratches at her chin before reaching into her bag and sifting through jacket, food, and… aha. She pulls out a few smooth stones, all varying in sizes as small as a quarter-dollar to those as large as the palm of her hand. The only thing they all have in common are that they're all smooth and have some nice color. After tucking one in particular back into her bag, she holds out two large stones to Devin. "Will this work?" she wonders, rubbing at her nose with the back of her hand to muffle a sneeze.

Morgan looks over the hubcap. "She'll notice if we do. Also, the guard outside will hear if we try." he says quietly. Stones banging against metal? Loud. "But what you could do is take one of the branches, strip off the small ones, and try sharpening it on the bowl's rim."

Devin looks to the rocks and smiles, nodding. "Yeah. That may work." He says, taking them and then looks to Morgan, nodding his head. "Okay. But keep an eye out for any metal pieces we can find. I want this diplomacy thing to work, but if it doesn't we need to be prepared." He says before he stands and starts to move to look for some suitable pieces of sticks to use to sharpen.

"I'm going to try to lay down for a bit," Ruth tells the two, managing to lay down and make herself kind of comfortable with that bag used still as a pillow. Obviously, she's not laying directly on the stones found within. That would just be painful. "If she comes back…" She sniffs once, pressing her face into the bag. "Let's just hope she doesn't."

Morgan shakes his head. "I'm going to try to get some rest." He's lost blood and needs some sleep. "You should too, Devin. We need to be alert."

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