Day 000: Landing
Summary: The 100 make the trip from the Ark to the surface.
Date: 30 April 2016
Related: Continues in Landing Part 2
Zoe Quinn Silas Cookie Hanne Jia Devin Frankie Ruth Morgan Grey Fiona Faolan Max 

The Dropship
Various descriptions, mostly in poses.
Landing Day

It has been a busy two weeks for most of the population of the Skybox, crammed with a sudden burst of Earth Skills classes. Most of them were the same boring (or fascinating, depending on the person) talk about how to live on an Earth no one of this generation expects to ever see. But the final lesson… that was different. Jack Carter, the instructor, chose one student in each class, usually someone relatively unpopular, but tough enough so that they don't seem a victim, and attacked them. It was only once the rest of the class joined together to stop him that he relented. That was definitely not normal. Arguable, it was Assault and should have gotten Carter floated. But after the first class, the Guard didn't even come into the room.

Now, the Delinquents are marched single-file down the hallways, and they finally get some idea of what might be going on, why so many appeals have been delayed, why they've been getting so many Earth Studies classes… they're heading to one of the launch bays. A few Delinquents have to be helped along, one or two are even carried on stretchers after having been tranqed to get them here. But all 100, even a few absolute newcomers, are directed up the ladders to the second and third level of a dropship and strapped in to jumpseats set up around the walls and in rows, back-to-back across the center of the spaces. This is really happening.

Abject terror. Anger. Depression. Confusion. These are likely the dominant emotions of those about to get dropped to their doom. It's obvious from their faces. Zoe, though? The girl's got this stupid 'I just got laid and won the lottery' grin on her face as she's brought in. There's no struggle at all from the girl in the janitorial jumpsuit. She takes hold of the straps holding her down and taps her foot in excited impatience.

Quinn didn't need encouragement to come, but she doesn't look like she trusts this for what it seems like either. As they're being lead down the halls, and then strapped in she mutters under her breath, "Fuckin' bullshit…"

Having needed to initially be escorted- the moment that Silas makes it down the halls and realizes where he's headed, he begins to move of his own accord. He eventually straps himself in when he's inside the dropship, looking around somewhat wide-eyed. "What the fuck.." he mumbles to himself.

However much one may or may not know about one Cookie Baker, this much is certain to the 100: she was arrested mere hours before boarding, fitted with a bracelet, and then hauled into the Sky Box. She also was amiably inebriated, smelling of faux-raspberry liquor and marijuana smoke — and fairly promptly fell asleep. Four hours later, she's clearly hungover, and more stagger-hauled aboard ship than marched, and none-too-gently shoved and fastened into a seat. "Owwwww," is softly protested, but that might have more to do with her pounding headache. Clamping her eyelids tight doesn't appear to be helping. It's questionable that she's even aware of what's transpiring.

Hanne Keats — a mousey, quiet thing who was Boxed for doing the right thing — shuffles along quietly with her peers. Fear seizes her chest, and she has to be pushed forward by whoever is behind her when her pace starts to slow and she starts to turn away from their destination. She keeps worrying at her chest, tugging at the old, ragged waffle-knit shirt and rubbing at her heart as it seems to be giving her massive discomfort. When she is directed to the seats, again, she almost tries to turn and retreat into the person behind her, but she ends up being shoved forward and strapped in.

Jia is here, and did not even require tranq'ing. Not that she looks ready or willing. Her posture twitches from slouchy to fidgeting, dark eyes wide with a mixture of shock and desperate attempts at denial. "They're not actually going to do this, right?" she asks the random person in line behind her. "This is just to freak us out. Like, propaganda. That must be what they're doing, right? This is nuts…" The babbling keeps going as she's strapped into a jumpseat. Maybe it's a coping mechanism. Albeit possibly an annoying one.

Being led out of his cell, Devin is now sporting evidence of the unusual graduation ceremony performed on his class by Jack Carter. New bruises around his eyes and a cut on his lip. As he steps out of the cell, he struggles a bit against the guards. "Let me go. Where the fuck are we going?" He asks, but is only met with a swift gut punch. He becomes much more compliant after that, being led to the dropship by the guards holding him up. He looks around to the others, trying to find anyone who he may know. He is led to one of the seats and strapped in. His eyes widen slightly at the thought that they're doing a mass floating to get rid of them all.

Having only been in the Skybox for a few months Frankie certainly could fall into the newcomer category. Being the new girl in the cell block she didn't want to make waves and has pretty much been going with the flow and flying under the proverbial radar. Now though she is finally showing a bit of backbone, while she isn't outright fighting the forced exodus she is clearly showing her dislike via body language and the occasional dirty look thrown about. Her ever observant eyes dart about, taking in the states of her fellow delinquents as she finds a seat and straps herself in.

While she doesn't exactly outright struggle, Ruth isn't quite as easy to drag as some of the more willing. It's like she's forgotten how to walk, long limbs locked. "Does this have to happen?" her cajoling alto can be heard, uncertain (and not very convincing) laughter interspersed. "I mean, isn't this cruel and unusual? I shouldn't even be here. I…" She eventually does quiet, when she's left strapped in her seat with no ears to pester. She doesn't bother attempting conversation with her fellow imprisoned, at least for the moment.

Morgan started out more confused than anything. He knew he was going to be floated sooner or later. Probably sooner. He expected to be already. But now? Would they be doing so many at once? He's keeping an eye out for an opportunity to either escape or get his hands on one of the guards but they're expecting that and no opportunity presents itself. When they get to an actual ship though, he quite willingly goes to take a seat. Whatever's happening, it's better than breathing vacuum. "They're not going to waste a ship just to kill a hundred of us." he says to no one in particular but everyone who's looking scared.

All those angry faced people? They'll see Zoe there, all smiles and sunshine and excitement. Her face probably looks very punchable right now as she practically vibrates out of her seat in anticipation. She turns to a particularly terrified girl next to her, speaking quietly. Something is muttered about 'Calm down.' and 'Don't ruin this for me you cow.'

Grey is toward the back of the line of Delinquents, since he was delayed in leaving his cell. Evidently, he 'put up a fight,' because blood trickles from one nostril and he has a bruise rising beneath the dark skin of his opposite cheek. And he wasn't even chosen by Carter as an example. As he makes his way along the line to the dropship, it becomes clear he has a bit of a limp too. One of the Guard guides him into the dropship by one arm, giving him a shove toward the nearest of the two ladders. Grey staggers into it, grabbing hold and snapping over his shoulder, "Hey, fuck you, Isaacs! You didn't have that shock stick…" The Guard puts a hand on said weapon, and Grey quiets. He works his left arm where the probes of the bracelet pierce his skin, wincing as he does, then begins to climb. As he reaches the second level and is directed off the ladder and to a seat, he responds to Jia, "It's nuts, that's for damn sure. But I don't think they're just screwin' with us."

Not so much as a word comes out of Fiona's mouth. For someone who's known for having a way with words, she's been awfully quiet during this whole procedure. She glares daggers at the guards as she's forced to walk along, climbing the ladder and letting herself be herded into a seat. "All those classes…" she murmurs, shaking her head. She looks across some of the others. "They wouldn't waste all the resources for this just to be a joke."

Silas doesn't look so much scared as he's incredibly confused- but the fear is very much still there. Silas' eyes dart around, looking for just about anyone who can offer him a half decent explanation. The words of both Morgan, Fiona, and what he could have heard from Grey seems to settle him down somewhat- but the confusion and suspicion doesn't cease its rise as his hands come over to tightly grip the straps that fasten him to his seat. "S-so they're going to fucking launch us?!" he blurts out in a bit of disbelief, shock, and fright, having gathered that from the passing sentences that jumble up the room.

"Then why haven't we been told what's happening before now?" Ruth demands airily of Fiona, her white-knuckled fingers gripping the straps the straps with as much keyed anticipation as Zoe; perhaps without the fervor to match. Tremors wrack her form, though it's difficult to tell whether with fear or something else entirely. "We might just float around in space until we run out of oxygen and die."

"We're being shot into space like fucking hairless monkeys." Quinn points out to Silas when she overhears his question, leaning her head back to rest against her seat, eyes closing in some attempt to block everything out. "It doesn't matter now…unless this is some test, and they unhook us all after faking a launch…we're done."

Once everyone is seated, and all of the straps have been checked, the Guards depart from the dropship, and the door in the empty hold below — yes, everyone could see just how empty it was when they filed through — clang shut. There's a blunt, hard finality to the sound. Then there's silence except for the babble of angry and scared voices from within the dropship, ten seconds, twenty, thirty, a minute… and then a more muffled clang, and gravity falls away as little jets on the outside of the ship steady it from the spin imparted by the station. Everyone inside is suddenly weightless.

That big lout of an ex cadet over there, Faolan, hasn't said a word the whole time they're being shepherded like a flock to a slaughter. There's no struggle, no resistance, no flailing or protesting. Instead there's a zen embrace of fate closing in on him. If anything he smiles, just a little bit, because whatever is going to happen is going to happen and at least something is happening. Rather than just rotting away in the SkyBox waiting on an inevitable floating. He straps himself in when he finally gets up the ladder, close Layla.

"It's better than being floated," he tells Quinn, when he finally speaks. "At worst we burn alive, right? And imagine if it works."

Then they're weightless. He sucks in a deep breath of air. "I bet we make it. Anyone taking odds?" Because who cares if you lose, right?

"And waste the resources and space of an entire drop ship that could be used in the future?" Fiona points out. "If they wanted us to litrtsllu float, they wouldn't bother to strap us down. And if they wanted us to figuratively float, they'd just shoves out of an airlock, or move us to a secure part of the station and then vent it." And then she feels herself go weightless, and she half lifts her hands, looking around the ship as if it will somehow magically provide answers. "That's cheerful." she notes dryly to Faolan.

Devin continues to look around the hold as he listens to the conversations going on around him. He struggles a bit at the restraints of his seat to test them before he looks towards Silas and Morgan as the sound of the doors closing echoes throughout the ship. As the silence takes hold, his breathing quickens and his heart beats harder. Then the ship drops away from the Ark, his hands reaching up towards his restraints, gripping on for dear life. His eyes widen with terror as he looks rapidly around the space, his teeth clinched together.

Hanne is staring forward, trying not to look around too much. She starts to chew at her inner cheek, and her mind is racing. She turns to whoever is sitting at her left, and remarks in that matter-of-fact, academic tone: "It can take less than two hours for symptoms of acute radiation syndrome to manifest." She blinks owlishly. "Exposure causes cellular degradation, and directly damages DNA." If there is more to this fact vomit, it is lost as the dropship leaves the Ark and her entire brain feels like it has been turned upside down. Her stomach gives the sensation like it is floating, filling her throat and threatening to burst from her mouth. She swallows it down, though her skin takes on a green tinge.

Jia's eyes get wider as she starts floating. Wild panic creeping into them. This is real. She stops babbling. Only to start screaming. "HOLY SHIT! HOLY SHIT! WE'RE GOING TO DIE! FUCK FUCK FUCK! WE'RE GOING TO DIE! I SHOULDN'T BE HERE! OH GOD! I SHOULDN'T BE HERE! WE'RE GOING TO DIE!"

"Whatever's going on, it beats being floated." Is Morgan trying to reassure the others or convince himself? "They're not going to destroy a ship they can't replace when it's cheaper to push us out an airlock one by one." He cranes his head to look over at Fiona and nod. They're on the same page. "Everyone calm down and don't give them the satisfaction of knowing you're scared." Fuck em all. And then they drop indeed and he clenches his hands on the arm of the seat. Fuck em all, fuck em all. It's a mantra.

"And exactly what are we betting with?" Frankie finally speaks up "Our good looks?" she glances around at all the others, but doesn't make the insult that would normally follow that question. Smart people don't insult the people your life could depend on later. As the ship starts its engines and everything goes weightless her hands white knuckle on the straps across her chest "Someone want to wake me up now…please."

As if to brace herself for the worst of any damage the dropship might incur, Ruth prematurely curls in on herself as much as she can within her restraints, chin dipped down against her chest with arms raised to shield against expected impact.

Upon feeling himself rise somewhat out of his feet- and promptly begin to float there, Silas' eyes are as wide as his head will allow. His lips are pursed as tight as they can go and his knuckles are nearly as white as snow. He sucks in a sharp breath through his nostrils before he mutters to himself. "Don't piss yourself Silas- don't fucking piss yourself..!" as he bites down on his lower lip viciously, threatening to draw blood. Hannes words don't seem to be helping whatsoever as they set it, either.

Grey's eyes widen sharply as they go suddenly weightless. He's no zero-G tech that's used to this. No, he was training to be a Guard, one of those flatfeet who is supposed to stay in the nice populated areas of the station and keep order. Weightlessness is new. He pales under his bloody nose and his bruised cheek, grabbing for the five-point harness across his chest. "Uhhh…" Jia's screaming right in his ear causes him to wince, and lean hard away. The verbal fact diarrhea from Hanne isn't helping. In fact, he goes so far as to get out a strangled, trying-not-to-puke, "Not helping, not helping…"

Screens crackle on around the two levels of Delinquents strapped into the dropship. Some of them are crisp and clear, and others are washed with pixelation. Chancellor Thelonius Jaha, a distinguished man with a rich speaking voice and a calm demeanor looks straight into the camera, "Prisoners of the Ark, hear me now. You've been given a second chance, and as your Chancellor, it is my hope that you see this as not just a chance for you, but a chance for all of us, indeed for mankind itself. We have no idea what is waiting for you down there. If the odds of survival were better, we would have sent others. Frankly, we're sending you because your crimes have made you expendable. If you survive, those crimes will be forgiven, your records wiped clean."

"He. Heheh.." It starts as just a slow bubbling giggle from somewhere in his chest. Faolan tries to stop it but just can't seem to manage it as he hears the Chancellor speak. He keeps going: "Heh. Hihi. Heheh."

Devin's eyes move to the screens as they flicker onto life, his eyes narrowing and the anger building as he sees Jaha on the screen. He bucks against the restraints in anger. "Fuck you, Jaha!" He calls out, the growling in his throat evident. That is the man who killed his parents and left him to be raised in the skybox. "I'm going to kill that motherfucker." He growls, not really paying attention to the words that the Chancellor is speaking.

That resounding clang? Sadistic, Po-Po. Not appreciated. With a groan and further grimace, Cookie, who has yet to find an ideal position to 'sleep it off', croaks, "Not cool, man." As the weightlessness sets in, she seems unperturbed, perhaps her brain too fuzzy to alert her stomach to violently protest what's happening. Limbs move a little and head twists in a vain attempt to get comfortable enough to fall back asleep.

Maybe she would've succeeded, but then Jia's freaking the fuck out. "Aww, c'monnnnn," is groaned, Cookie still not bothering to open her eyes. "Seriously, girlie? Let a sistah sleep. Please."

"Shut up," Ruth hisses at the dubiously sane Faolan, the heel of her palm pressing into her mouth as if this alone will keep further comment from spewing forth. It doesn't. Her words just come out garbled, instead, pale hazel eyes staring daggers at the oblivious man on screen. "I'm no' e'en s'pposed to BE HE'!" It's a tiresome sentiment many have likely heard her express before. "I made an appeal."

A second chance? A second chance to kill you and this time he'll start at the top. Yeah, Morgan will take that opportunity. He just glares his hatred at the screen instead of responding, knowing if he opens his mouth to try to talk, he might end up puking instead.

Quinn's pretty calm, her eyes remaining closed through weightlessness, through Jaha coming on, through it all. "I'm not making any bets…it's pointless. What is going to happen is going to happen, nothing we can do." She cracks one eye open very faintly, glancing towards Ruth, smirking a bit before closing her eyes again, "We were never getting out…it was all bullshit."

If. Considering Jaha's particular choice of words, it's no doubt that Silas is staring with his lips pursed to keep whatever contents of his stomach, well, in his stomach. But the simple fact that he begins throwing around Ifs is enough to make it quite obvious that Silas is scared shitless.. Well, not literally- not yet, at least.

"WE'RE ALL GOING TO DIE!" Jia screams some more, freaking the fuck out indeed. She would've probably kept onn like that, but the voice of Chancellor Jaha makes another scream die in her throat. She blinks, those saucer-wide eyes staring at the screen. She does not look like she finds any of that reassuring.

Hanne looks up as the screens flicker to life, and there's Jaha speaking to them. Her throat tightens a bit as he starts to speak, though it is hard to discern the emotion: anger, sadness, or maybe just more zero-g sickness. She glances behind her at the laughter bursting from Faolan, and she looks confused. Then she looks at Devin. "Statistically impossible… the Ark orbits at an estimated 340 kilometers above the ground, in the upper two-thirds of the thermosphere… I doubt you would be able to kill him from that distance." Then she closes her eyes as another wave of nausea hits, and she is trying to remind her brain which way is up.

Grey actually shuts up when the screens come on, scowling up at the nearest one. He really does have a good face for scowling narrow-eyed at someone or something. The words hammer home, though, sparking anger within him, and his reaction is similar to Faolan's, laughter. His laughter is not pleasant, however, but rather mocking, "Oh yeah, sure, jackhole. Send us to get our asses killed and you'll damned well pardon us. Accept all the murderin' children back into the fold." Scorn and anger lace his words, giving them a sharp, brittle edge.

Fiona flinches as Jia starts screaming, but then her eyes rivet onto the screens. "Shit." she says softly, and tilts her head forward. Gritting her teeth, her grip on her straps tightens, turning her knuckles. "There aren't going to be any appeals." she says, closing her eyes.

Zoe's excitement is only a little dampened by the crying of the girl next to her. She maintains her upbeat persona, not talking to anyone else… but her enthusiam, if infectious, would likely leave the entire dropship awash with goofy grins and fist pumps. Thankfully it's not. "You better not puke. Don't you dare puke!" She snaps at a boy on the other side of her as he starts to go a bit green in the gills. "If you puke I swear I'm…" And then Zoe claps her hands over her mouth and her eyes bulge out. Anyone who's ever tried to swallow their own vomit would recognize that look. Odds are she won't be running her mouth for the rest of the trip.

Even as the members of The 100 scream threats, quiet down, laugh, and curse, Jaha continues without pause, "The drop site has been chosen carefully. Before the last war, Mount Weather was a military base built within a mountain. It was to be stocked with enough non-perishables to sustain 300 people for up to two years. No one ever made it there. Because we could spare you no food, water, or medicine, you must locate those supplies immediately. Mount Weather is life. Your one responsibility is to stay alive." There is a sudden shock to the dropship, a shudder as it strikes the upper reaches of Earth's atmosphere and begins to plummet downward.

Frankie stares at the screen in disbelief as the Chancellor's video plays, "It would have been kinder just to float us." she murmurs to herself finally as she pulls her eyes from the screen and looks around at her fellow exiles

Two of the Delinquents evidently managed to get out of their restraints during the Chancellor's speech, shoving off one another and beginning to float around the hold. Until that shudder and shock, when they are thrown into the deck violently.

Slowly Faolan's giggles turn into chuckles. Then they gets louder, become something increasingly unhinged. Delighted. Terrified. ALIVE. "Hahah. Hah. Ha." He tries to put his hands over his mouth to stop it, but that doesn't work. "Hahahah. Ha. Shit. Hahaha..HA!" As they surge towards Earth Faolan's laugh is maniacal, booming against the interior of the dropship, fighting to overwhelm all the over noises and drown them. He's given up all attempts to constrain himself. It joins with Jia's screams like they're performing a duet. "HAHAHAHAH! FUCK YEAH! HAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAAH!" His eyes are wide open, as far as they can go, the whites of them all but glowing with crazy glee. "WOOOOOOOOHOOOOOO! YEAH! HAHAHAAAH!" His hands cling to his straps.

Devin's shaking and growling stop as he looks at the screen as Jaha mentions Mount Weather, his eyebrows furling together. He listens and blinks. If they're going to survive and there's a place that can happen, then he needs to know where. Then the two kids start floating around, a slight smirk forming on his lips as he watches before the shuddering starts and he starts to grip his restraints again.

And no doubt does that shudder hit hard- at the very least it does for Silas, who finds himself thrashing into his seat a bit, clenching his eyes shut. He holds in his voice and his urge to just let out the highest pitch scream this dropship could hear. His eyes flit open to eye the spots where the kids who wanted to start floating around ended up, clenching his teeth together as he lets out a muffled sounding shout from between them- "Fuuuuuuuuck!"

"G-g—" Ruth can't even force further word out at first, her fingers flexing in their grip on the straps. Otherwise, they may as well be glued there at this point. When the two others are thrown, it's the sound of impact itself that finds her head whipping in their direction, her breath quickening. "Mount Weather. We can do Mount Weather," she reasons with a swallow, her voice just a thick exhale. "We can do Mount Weather."

"Fuck that." Morgan says grimly. "We're alive." Unlike some, there was no appeal for him. He turns to look over to the one who crashed to the ground. Yeah, don't do that. Idiots. "And we'll stay alive as long as we can. You want to off yourself instead? Go right ahead."

The shudder through the ship as it hits the upper atmosphere has Frankie, showing her first bit of terror. Up until then she was still assuming this was just some cock up by the guards and council to maybe scare them all straight. Her knuckles remain white as they grip the restraints holding her down into her seat. As the ship rocks and the two dare devils crash to the floor her legs come up and she pretty much assumes an upright fetal position.

Grey watches the two knuckleheads get out of their seats, but he doesn't comment, looking around the bunch of seats instead. Faolan's hysterics cause his eyebrows to rise, his attention just starting to go back to the screens when… WHAM… his grip on his straps gets tighter, his knuckles going grey as he squeezes hard, and one of the floaters slams into his shins, "Damn it! Ow!" It probably hurt the unmoving guy a lot worse.

Jia screams again as the dropship shudders, but it's wordless this time, and dies when she runs out of breath. She curls a little in her seat when those two delinquents start floating. She likes her restraints and wants to stay in them.

Hanne has closed her eyes tight, allowing her senses to focus on the intial rumbling and the screams all around her. Her hands have gone white as she holds tightly onto the straps of her seat. She starts to mutter something under her breath, reciting something — the alphabet. She would recite the alphabet when getting shots, and it is her only comfort, or the only one she can think of.

Fiona cries at the same time as many of the other kids do, feeling the abrupt, sharp bounce of atmospheric connection. Still gripping her straps like it somehow keeps her more firmly held down, she flinches as the bodies of the unstrapped kids get flung about like ragdolls. She closes her eyes once more, lips moving as she…prays? Talks? Something, to herself.

Quinn grits her teeth, and just holds on to things. She's not screaming, or crying, cursing or anything. Instead she's just saying her last prayers before they explode into fiery death or something.

Zoe is shocked by the jolt too, but for the SAKE OF HUMANITY she keeps her hands clasped tightly over her mouth and nose. She seems to be having conniptions over there, doing her best to spare those around her of a fate worse than death. Well, maybe not worse than death… but it would be pretty awful. Someone with medical knowledge might recognize the look in her eyes though. The girl's just shy of passing out. And when that happens… may Jaha help us all.

"Daaaamn, y'aaaaall," is murmured by Cookie, who's woozily managed to draw up her hood as far as possible, tugging it down to cover her still-closed eyes. When atmo is hit, she rolls with it like a pro, which is to say with the supple ease of a drunk person who offers no resistance. Of course, that means her hand slips, which leads to a slow, epic fail of a flail to reacquire the material, coupled with the kind of noises that are an amalgam of annoyance and getting jostled.

Tears are absolutely useless but apparently unavoidable, at least for @Ruth. Instead of even attempting to form words, now, she instead tries to keep the scream building up in her throat from emerging. Her breathing is deep, almost to the point of being granted voice, and her nose starts to spring a bloody leak.

The ride, so smooth since the first kick of launch until the first buffet of the atmosphere, now gets rough indeed, gravity returning rapidly as the members of The 100 get shaken around in their straps. The transmission begins to get rougher too, crackling and fuzzing, "I'm sure you're all wondering about those wristbands. They are not a punishment, they are a lifeline. They are how we will…" And then there is an almighty WHUMP as the parachutes deploy above, and something breaks in the dropship, a shower of sparks spraying out from the comm and navigation station on the second level, and the transmission from the Ark is cut off.

Faolan keeps his manic laughing going, grinning in the face of likely death. He is utterly oblivious to everything else around him.

By this point Silas is most definitely shaken and not stirred. He clenches onto his straps for dear life as he tries to stabilize himself, muffling screams of absolute terror at the fear of slamming into the ground and having everything come to an end. His eyes are clenched shut and, much like Ruth, tears force their way out as he tries to block out the near maniacal laughter of Faolan and the screaming around him. Well it at least looks like screaming is working for him.

"HOW WE WILL WHAT?" Jia demands of the fritzing screen. Like Jaha's going to pop back on and reply to her if she's loud enough. Her screaming has mostly abated, though, and she doesn't start yowling again after that demand. Mostly because she's trying very hard not to pass out as the dropship goes down, down, down.

"You are fucking insane." Quinn says to Faolan, the words coming out semi-rattled from all the shaking, her teeth still gritted as she tries to keep her brain from vibrating out of her skull. She opens her eyes so that she can look towards the direction of Jia and her shouting, frowning a fraction before she just shakes her head.

The violent shaking of the ship, the jarring thump of the ship violently being slowed by the parachutes deploying…it's to much for the straps that hold Frankie in place. The sound of the strap ripping joins the sounds of terrified teens and vibrating metal and the sound of the teen hitting the floor follows as she is thrown from her seat to floor where she is flung around a bit herself.

Devin continues to get shaken and jostled around in his seat as the shower of sparks rain down on them. His eyes widen as he thinks the ship is coming apart. "This is it."

How they'll track us. Morgan's going to have to get rid of his as soon as… Oh. shit. He was sure they weren't sending them off to die. But he's not at all sure that accidents can't kill them all before they even touch down. Or maybe it'll be the touchdown that does it. Hopefully, only the communication system blew up. But since there's nothing he can do, he just closes his eyes and holds on tight. They'll either live or they won't.

The whump causes Hanne to finally release a sharp cry of surprise and fear — though it is the sparks that sends her into a small panic. She hears the sound of Jia's scream at the screen, and she releases a soft whimper. "Survive," she says in reply. "How we will survive." She looks up, her own dark eyes filled with tears. "We're the canaries."

Grey grasps harder and harder at his straps as the world begins to shake apart at the seams. He is kind(?) enough to put a foot on the back of the boy crashed to the deck at his feet, keeping him from skittering and thumping all around. Jia's scream in his ear causes him to wince aside again, and he grumbles, "Keep track of our criminal asses, no doubt. Make sure we snap to like good little hairless monkeys and don't screw around." The words jounce and shudder from his lips as he is shaken about like the contents of a can of spray-cheez. Hanne's response makes a great deal more sense, however.

It's Hanne's quieter, closer voice that cuts through Ruth's uncertain haze, her eyes focusing only slightly and her limbs rather limp with the absence of effort to keep them close to her person. "Canaries?" she coughs as some blood from her nose finds its way into her mouth, gratuitous spittle issued. "We're birds?" Even as she asks, her head is jerked abruptly to the side with the dropship's most recent jolt, and she cries out in pain.

Fiona shrinks back at the shower of sparks, "Just ten more seconds." She says, more to herself, "If we can make it ten more seconds, we can make it to the next." Her eyes open, and she looks around. Seeing Frankie hit the floor, she looks as if she wants to help, but stays put. "In the coal mine." she manages. "They're waiting to see if we die."

Anyone who studied rocketry or zero-G mechanics might be counting down the time when the retro-rockets should fire to slow them the last amount necessary to make landing survivable. Except they get past that time, two seconds past, three, five, seven… and then there's another roar, and a kick in the ass for everyone onboard the dropship (except the two people on the ground out of their seats, they get kicked in the chest or back, as appropriate). That roar lasts a second or two, and then the dropship hangs back on its parachutes, there's a faint crackle and scrape from beneath them and outside, and then there's a thump, and silence from outside. But is it the silence of hope, or the silence of a radioactive grave?

"WOHOO! HAAHA! WE'RE THE CANAAA-AAA-AAARIES!" A hard shake snaps Faolan's jaws shut, and he narrowly misses biting off his tongue. A snap-back dazes him. That's it for the loud cackle, and restores some of his sanity, though he still giggle-chuckle-snorts to himself. He looks at Quinn with his wild crazy eyes, and ''winks'' at her. He's one big toothy grin. All of him is rattling with the turbulence.

And then they're down. He blinks, looks around. "Shit. That was.. fucking awesome." But rather than go out to check on radiation death, Faolan is unstrapping himself so he can wobble with absolutely no balance, every limb in his body made of jello, to check on the life stats of the pairs of stupid free fallers.

She managed to hold it. Zoe didn't vomit on the way down. Finally her eyes roll back in her head and she sags forward against her straps, unloading on… well. The poor kid who is pinned down to the floor by Grey. His life may or may not have been saved by the Grey's heroics but at this moment he's probably wishing he was dead. And with that Zoe is unconscious, a boneless sack of meat. At least her jumpsuit is still pristine.

"What the fuck are you even talking about!?" Jia yells at Hanne. It's not exactly screaming, but it's still loud and high-pitched and edged with panic. "I'm not a bird!" She lets out another squeak as the dropship well and truly drops, shaking in her seat. For a moment, she just stays curled there. As if it offers some protection from what's outside.

Devin clinches his teeth as the rockets kick in finally, not knowing they were late. He flinches a bit at the scraping and crackling from outside then the thump. Then silence. He looks around for a few moments, his breathing heavy and full. After a few moments, he starts fighting with the buckle on his restraints, trying to get them undone. After a bit, he manages to get them undone and climbs out of his seat, feeling a bit unsteady on his feet before he starts towards the exit. "Get me out of this damn thing."

As they are jerked around Quinn continues to just…sit and take it. Teeth clenched, an unhappy look on her face. But she doesn't make any further comment until the silence echoes. "So.." She drawls, unclenching her jaw with an almost audible crack of tense muscles.

"They used to send birds down into mines. If they died, they knew there was poison gas." Morgan says, eyes still closed. It seems like they've landed. "We're the birds. They'll track us and see if we stay alive. We should get rid of them." Since it seems they have indeed landed, he opens his eyes, looks around, them unbuckles himself from the seat.

Silas feels the force of the retro-rockets hit him- a huge kick riiiight into his ass. It wouldn't be too odd to say that he sort of hit back into his seat as he grabs onto his seat, before feeling the force pull away for a moment as the dropship parachutes down. The crackling and scrapes earn opened eyes and some heavy breathing as his eyes quickly widen as he looks around toward the door, listening to the silence. The complete silence as he begins to wildly pull at his buckle for a bit before rising. "Fuck- fuck, this is so fucked!" he growls to himself, staring around at the others.

Hanne had been counting — and panicking. When the engines finally fire, her heart nearly stops beating in relief. Then there is that soft floating and thump, and she is frozen in her seat. She looks around at the others, and she swallows thickly. "They used to send canaries down into coal mines… because if the canaries died, then the miners' lives were also in danger… the canaries always died first though… always." Then she nods to Morgan. People start unbuckling their harnesses, but Hanne remains in hers for several moments longer. In fact, she is almost the last to unbuckle and ease onto her feet.

Grey was one of the last ones strapped in, and now he's one of the first strapped out — and headed directly to the nearest ladder, stepping over the now vomit-streaked body of one of their fallen spacewalkers. He himself has some puke on his pants and boots, but there are more important things going on. Reaching the ladder, he presses in on the sides of the ladder and scoots down it as fast as he can. Landing with a thump in the empty cargo bay, he winces sharply as his leg reminds him that he received several good kicks there not long ago… a lifetime ago now. He hurries to the door controls, but does not immediately throw them, instead scooping up a piece of broken metal from the floor and taking position in front of them. Devin's demand is responded to with a curt, "Wait."

When the roar has finally silenced and the only sound from within the dropship is the panic and deliberation of the other delinquents, Ruth's tears finally come in earnest, accompanied by dry-heaving sobs that issue her a different brand of panic. She fumbles at her restraints, teeth chattering. "L-l-let me loose," she bids of someone near her seat, a belated yell accompanying her fist as it slams into the seat behind her. "Help me!"

Of course Frankie needs help. She is being tossed around the ship like a ragdoll. She flails for any hand hold she can get, seat frames, legs whatever, and manages to occassionaly grab something or someone only to be jerked hard enough to break her grip and get thrown around more, there is the sickening sound of snapping bone as her leg hits something and then the crack of her head hitting the floor hard. Lights out for Frankie.

"No we should not. Letting them know whether or not its safe can save thousands of lives, can save humanity itself," Faolan tells Morgan breathlessly. There's still some of the giddiness about him. ITs only when he kneels by the pair that some of his delight fades away before somberness. "Shit. No pulse. Fuck. Someone help me?" Because while there might be vomit all over, and it might be a lost cause, he'll still try to use his scant first-aid skills to try to revive. His expression a mask of serious focus. No kidding around. Checking airwaves. Breathe kid! Pump-pump-pump. Breathe!

Zoe is slowly coming awake from her short blackout. She looks groggy. Dazed. And like she really, really is starting to regret some of her life decisions. She drunkenly starts fumbling with her straps and nearly falls face down in the vomit before she catches herself by grabbing some poor unfortunate delinquent near her. Her hand is already working at the stupid bracelet, trying to pull it off. Stupid bracelets. Stupid dropships. Stupid everything.

"That's sick!" Jia squawks at Hanne and Morgan's explanation of canaries in coal mines. She unbuckles her harness with shaking hands and stands, though she has to steady herself against the seat to keep her feet. She watches with wide dark eyes as Grey descends toward the doors, swallowing. Taking in the chaos around her numbly. There's also a dazed look about her and she murmurs to herself, very quietly, voice shaking like she's on the verge of tears, "I want to go home…"

Looking around as he collects himself, Silas is still breathing in deep, heavy breathes as his eyes travel the rest of the passenger area. Ruth's yelling is acknowledged, and he stumbles over to help her with them, before staggering back as he feels his legs shaking- looking down to quaking hands. "F-fuck…" is all he can muster before he looks over, staggering over and to the ladder, making his way down to stand some way behind Grey, as he stares at the door, his lips pursed as he stares expectantly. "D-do you think it's safe?" is all he can ask, to no one in particular.

"Yes, we should." Morgan counters. "We play by their rules and we get nothing from it. You really think they'll keep their word?" He stands up, looking over at Faolan and frowning. "Let me see." He goes over to kneel by the one who supposedly has no pulse and check him out.

Quinn unfastens her buckles, sliding out of the straps before she shoves herself to her feet. She glances towards Faolan and his attempt to help those on the floor, shaking her head a fraction before she heads towards the exit, pushing past people if she needs, "G." She greets when she's within speaking range, "We're going to have to take our chances sooner or later…the longer we hold off the more shit is going to stink and people are going to riot."

In the silence, Fiona does her best to steady her breathing, and it's all she can hear for a few moments. Then she's unsnapping her restraints and getting out of her seat, beginning to thread her way through the others. Stopping to kneel by Frankie, she puts her cheek close to the other girl's mouth. "Still breathing." she murmurs, though she winces at the state of Frankie's leg.

Ruth's fingers find the side of her neck as soon as her restraints are loosed and she takes a tumble with a sickening thud of knees on floor. She is in no place to start a riot, the blood half-caked on her lower face flaked off with her free hand as she spits the rest from her teeth. "Can we slow down?" she gasps, shifting so she's seated on her behind rather than on her knees. Not that she really has a choice. Her head reels back and she mostly catches herself on her elbows, all disorientation. "Just… slow down. Slow down."

Yep, Frankie is still breathing, though she has a nice head wound and that leg is not supposed to be either twisted or bent at that angle. She'll be lucky if she can walk on it in the future.

Faolan's expression turns desperate, his eyes taking on that same manic state they had before, but now its a dark glow. A refusal to accept what's plain, that the pair of them are dead as dead can be, and no amount of shaking or hammering his fist (in the end) against unmoving chests are going to change that. "Fuck. Fuck, fuck, FUCK! YOU FUCKING IDIOTS!" He roars at the corpses, raging, hammering ''violently'' now. "WHAT THE FUCK WERE YOU THINKING?! Unfph!" And he falls back on his ass, wiping vomit off on the dropship floors. It doesn't really seem to bother him that much, because instead of icking, he sighs defeatedly and starts checking on others that might've been passed out and need help.

Grey finally has a chance to wipe the streamer of blood coming from one nostril with the back of one hand, scowling over the crowd gathering from up above. There are shouts of greeting from those separated into upper and lower deck, and a great deal of confusion from the one hundred young people crammed into the dropship. Grey shrugs first at Silas, then over at Quinn, "Heya Q. No, I got no idea if it's safe or not, but if we open these doors right now, there's gonna be a damned stampede, and I'm not gettin' trampled. So who's gonna be the canary of the canaries?" Evidently he was listening to Hanne and Morgan and others as he was getting shaken around earlier.

Zoe reels drunkenly, slowly steadying herself before she closes her eyes and takes deep breaths. It does no good. Things still suck. She opens them again and mutters to herself as she sets about helping others unstrap themselves. Those with good eyes or paying attention to Zoe might notice that she's rifling through pockets as she 'helps' others. But who's paying attention to anything like that now?

"Him." Quinn jerks a thumb back towards where Faolan is shouting, "He should be the first out." If it's a death trap, she wont have to deal with his thumbs up any longer, at least. She glances briefly at Silas, then back towards the rest of the delinquents that are starting to move around, possibly for a second choice.

TripAdvisor review of Air Ark Delinquent Dropship by Cookie Baker (destination: Earth): ZERO STARS The seats were incredibly uncomfortable, and the flight attendants did nothing about the unacceptable noisiness of the other passengers. In-flight entertainment fizzled out half-way through, and there were no snacks. Also, the cabin reeked of vomit. Would not recommend. Would not fly again (unless forcibly strapped down and unable to escape).

When Cookie finally wakes up, her bruised shoulders and sore ass will do their best to fill her in on what she missed. For now, she lets out an "oof" and a tired moan, and tries to fall back asleep.

Faolan's outburst pretty much ensures that she doesn't succeed, though. Blearily, and reluctantly, she opens her eyes, brows furrowed from a wince, and makes an attempt at parsing just what she's awoken to.

"Not it," Hanne says without thinking. She is out her seat, and standing behind Silas. She looks around when Faolan reacts to the fallen bodies, and her face pales a bit. She then intakes a deep breath.

Max was characteristically silent through most of the confusion and chaos, fingers wrapped around the straps until finally prying themselves loose to free himself. Dragging himself to his feet, he looks around at those moving about, and makes his way from the back toward Quinn, gravitating toward her until he finally enters her orbit. "I'll go," he finally offers, apparently not minding the idea of being a canary. "If no one else wants to."

Devin glances to Grey as he speaks, slowing down, but still keeps moving towards the exit. "I just want out of here. I don't want to be in here anymore. Let me out. Please." He says to no one in particular. His stomach starts to contract and his eyes starting to water as if something is starting to come up. "I'm going to be sick. Let me out."
ooc (don't forget to +cookie people (or just use +cookie/here). It's how we get Luck points so we don't die later)

Morgan checks both of the delinquents and doesn't bother even trying CPR. There's no medical equipment so even if he got their hearts going again, they'd just be leaving them to die all over. Instead, he goes over to look at Frankie. "This one is alive. Broken leg though. I'll need some shit to make splints from."

Silas looks over upon hearing Hannes words and eyeing her as she moves behind him- he blinks as he looks around for a moment somewhat frantically, "F-fuck that I'm not it either." he says, bringing his hands up in open palms as he shakes his head. He looks over to Quinn as she proposes Faolan goes- but Max eventually grabs his attention with his volunteering, and Devin as well for the same reasons. He stares for a moment as he purses his lips, furrowing his brows before he says, "F-fuck it, I'll go too." he says. "B-but if I choke to death, you don't get to laugh at me when I piss myself." he says, pointing a hard finger down at the ground as he growls the words at those around him.

Hanne opens her mouth to mention loss of bowel control, but decides better of it. So, she just nods shyly at Silas and draws her hands at her chest again, wringing them together nervously as she waits for the door to open.

Though slower on the uptake, a battered Ruth eventually rises and steps to join the others, her fingers digging into the nape of her neck. Since she's already pale, she currently boasts the complexion of a nauseated ghost. She stands on the fringes of the gathering crowd of those who weren't killed and/or jostled to unconsciousness.

Quinn glances over at Max when he gravitates closer, a brow lifting with a frown, then she shrugs her shoulders again, "If you want…" She replies, glancing between Silas and Devin as their volunteering is made as well.

Faolan would probably have volunteered if he'd heard Quinn, but he's busy checking on the Delinquents still strapped in. He finds himself by Cookie, putting his (semi vomit stained) hands on her shoulders, giving her a check up. Tipping up her head so he can look her in the eyes. "Hey there. You okay? You hurt anywhere?" While his hands'll do the travel thing to check for injuries, clinical and practical. "Lemme see if I can't help you get out of this. We're landed. WE're fine. We're alive. Soon to discover if we're dead from radiation poisoning."

Grey nods slowly at Quinn's suggestion, but then Max and Devin and Silas speak up, and he shakes his head, "Q, Faolan!" The young man raises his voice to be heard over the rising babble, "Crowd control. I don't want my ass trampled." He steps aside slightly then, getting into a place where he can help slow down a rush. Looking down to the small Devin, he nods, "You're it, kid." And then he reaches behind him with the arm not holding the shard of broken metal, pulling the lever. There's a hiss, and the door begins to descend into a ramp. Light floods in, blinding compared to the dim illumination The 100 have been rattled around in on the dropship. Exactly what is out there is… unclear… but the scents… it's clean, crisp, and green.

Of course, there's also the faint crackle of smoldering fires and the scent of burned vegetation… they did land on rockets, after all.

Jia does not volunteer. She stays huddled by her seat. Maybe she screamed herself hoarse during the flight, because she's gone silent now. Eyes still wide, staring at the bodies of the formerly-floating delinquents.

Morgan checks Frankie's pulse, peels back an eyelid and feels the lump on her head which isn't bleeding too badly. "Right. I need a hand over here." He looks around and focuses on Faolan. "Hey handsome, you want to save someone, get over here and help. I need someone strong to hold her steady."

Zoe's got a few personal effects she's lifted from those she helped out of their straps. Nothing major, nothing really useful. But when that door opens? She's one of the ones who goes straight for it. Not to go out, though. She stays near the door and waits for someone else to be the canary. Or goat. Or guinea pig. Or whatever animals people sacrifice.

"Good luck, kid." Quinn informs Devin, a hand moving to give Max's shoulder a squeeze as she moves to block anyone else that might make a mad rush for the exit. She settles herself into a well practiced stance, relaxed but ready to move in any direction if stampeding occurs.

Max waits for Devin to go first, since he's been designated as primary canary, and hangs back near Quinn for the time being. He covers the hand she places on his shoulder and gives it a squeeze as she moves off to perform crowd control. His eyes are on Devin though, waiting to see what happens for a moment or two before following after.

Hanne closes her eyes tightly, her entire body bunched up in complete expectation of the floods of radiation. She is counting as she holds her breath, and eventually has to releases a gasping exhale and inhale. Her lungs burn almost as the oxygen-rich air floods them, causing her head to become abruptly woozy. She staggers a bit, reaching out to grasp at someone near-by so she doesn't fall over. Breathing actual oxygen — not just recycled air — causes her brain to spin as if it is on drugs. Then she takes another breath, and another, and she seems to be able to focus once more. Now she can look, peering around Grey and Quinn observantly.

As soon as the doors open, Ruth's hands grope at her face. It's as if she expects any radiation symptoms to set in immediately from the exposure. When they don't, though, she voices a laugh. It's nowhere near Faolan's crazed descent, but it's a doozy.

Devin's breathing becoming a bit deeper and more rapid as he looks up at Grey then to Quinn at her words. His stomach contracts again as he fights to keep his lunch down as he watches the door fall. As it is fully extended. He slowly starts to move down the ramp, the weight of his role finally becoming evident. He moves down the ramp, closer towards the ground. He shields his eyes from the light outside, wincing a bit. He pauses for a moment at the bottom of the ramp, just one step more to go. He glances back over his shoulder before he takes that last step onto the Earth. He pauses for a moment, looking around. After a moment, his stomach contracts again and he moves to maneuver himself aside the ramp and vomits up his food. As he finishes he wipes his mouth, looking back to up the ramp and gives a thumbs up. "I'm okay." He looks back out at the new world before them and takes in a deep breath of the fresh air. "It's fresh!" He calls out with a huge grin on his face. "THIS PLACE IS OURS, BITCHES!"

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