Day 022: Lots of Things to Be Scared of in the Universe
Summary: A pair of Delinquents discuss the many ways to die and what to do about it.
Date: 11 June 2016
Related: None directly
Cassandra Silver 

Tech Tent — the Camp

This tent is really nothing more than a taut stretch of sun-bleached blue and gold parachute pulled taut into a large eaves. One side of it has been attached to the outer wall of the dropship, while the opposite corners have been tied tightly to the tops of some thick sapling poles. Evergreen branches have been used to make a screen-like wall adjacent to the dropship wall, creating a little corner of protection. The rest of the tent is open to the remainder of the camp so that the communication relay can get the best signal. Inside the tent, a couple of small, crude tables has been made from dropship panels and tree stumps.

A panel to the dropship remains open, and thick power cords have been drawn out to provide power to the various equipment that is being set up in the tent. While there is still an absolute lack of real, true-hearted technology, the rough approximations the delinquents now have are not all that bad.

The two-feed AV monitor has been set up on a short table at the back of the tent to provide a little privacy, and a couple of dropship chairs have been pulled in to give people somewhere to sit while talking to the Ark. Using the AV monitor is a precarious business, as the video often has feedback static now and then and sometimes the audio cuts out, but it does give the camp a leyline to their people.

22 Days After Landing

In a shrinking camp of The 85 prisoners sent down from the Ark, news has been travelling fast. Some of it is petty gossip surrounding who's sleeping with whom, some of it more grisly business like who the haemorrhagic fever killed, and somewhere in between is the news that Silver Kennedy is back in camp. Cass Bonheur, also known circumstantially as 'Boner' and more recently one half of the Patient Zero, is no stranger to either spectrum of talk. Talking is one thing and seeing is another; she looks like hell when she shows up at the Tech Tent, barely recognisable. Eyelids bruised and swollen, a bandage wrapped around her temples, she's a far-cry from the plucky honey-badger she was when she last sought Silver out here. In part, this is because she does not come in radiating hostility this time; she approaches the med-tech as a friend, or at least neutral, which is close enough for her.

"Heard you were back," Cass calls out when she enters, gripping the edges of the tent flap before manoeuvring herself into a nearby seat. "I'm guessing you heard about the Blood Fever too. Glad you found somewhere to stay safe."

Communications. The Ark may be out of reach, but with Grounders all around, communications would be helpful for the delinquents trying to scout around the camp. She's looking a little rough around the edges herself, pale beneath her usual skin tone and with new bloodstains on her clothes. She looks up when Cass comes up, smile rueful.

"No such luck," she shakes her head. "I went out with Wren looking for you guys, actually. Caught the tail end of it by the time we made it back, then the tail end of it caught me. It's not your fault, you know," she adds, turning back to the bits of tech she was fiddling with.

"I know," Cass says placidly enough, though her eyebrows do rise with a hint of surprise. "Your…" She tries to find the word, but none seems appropriate, so she just settles for a name. "Wren didn't seem to think so." No looming over Silver's shoulder today. Once the banged up girl's settled into a severed chair from the Dropship, she curls up into it and doesn't look apt to get up. Her raccoon eyes roam the tech on display all the same, including the communication devices Silver's working on.

"He's a little bit conflicted right now," Silver shrugs, setting a piece carefully aside with a few others. "For what it's worth, he's not likely to do anything about it. Except try to keep the camp safe. It sounds like he's not the only one, either." She frowns slightly to herself, then looks back over. "What're you thinking about?" She's not angling for something, which is unusual. Something must be up.

It is unusual. Not only that, but Cassie decides to try this whole, 'opening up and talking about her feelings' thing, and after a beat of thought, unceremoniously admits, "We're probably all gonna die." And her tone is wholly accepting of that fact. "If we can't figure out what to do, where to live. I mean, either we all kill each other or the Grounders kill us or the Ark does. It's kind of a lose-lose situation." Another glance is sent to Silver's disassembled communication device, likely adjacent to where a distress signal was sent to Mount Weather. "Or Mount Weather does."

"That seems likely, yes," Silver agrees placidly. Apparently she's at peace with it, too. Either that or she already got her existential panic out of the way when no one was looking. "I was hoping we'd be able to make some peace with the Grounders. We were getting so close. And then the ship…" She trails off, shaking her head. "We could tell them it was a malfunction, that there's no way we could have done it on purpose even if we wanted to, but we've got no way of proving it to them."

"Smart thing to do right now would be to fight," says Cass, for all her prior peace efforts at Coesbur. "Cole and Crew are making bombs and traps and grenades. The ex-Cs are teaching people to shoot. There's even a Grounder here giving archery lessons." She picks up a tied off cluster of fried wires to toy with, testing the insulated ends. "I'm wondering if you have a back-up plan."

"I'm not sure fighting is all that smart, honestly," Silver grimaces. "I mean, maybe it's smart for the people who are good at it. Fighting's worthwhile if it can actually win you a chance at surviving. But I'm not a fighter." She reaches for a tangled ball of wires, slowly starting to work them apart. One at a time. Untangling. "I wouldn't call it a back up plan. I don't think it's a plan, at least. Just…an option."

"How sure are you that the Grounders a gonna help you?" asks Cass, raising her gaze from the cluster of wires in her own hands. "This Wren guy, I mean, he could be using you or lying. Why would he help protect this camp from his own people? I'd like to have an option too, though experience tells me sometimes those options are frying pan to fire." For an eighteen year old girl who's been only three weeks on the ground, perhaps this supposed experience sound pretentious. She speaks as a jaded old woman. "But staying here, even if we live… yeah, it's not gonna work out either."

"I'm completely sure he'll try," Silver replies, voice even as she looks back to the other girl. "I don't know if he'll succeed. The way the numbers look to me, he's more likely to end up dead from trying, and there's no way he can buy me enough time to get by on my own as it is. I can't tell him that, though. He thinks it's worth it." Pushing a hand through her hair, she forces out a heavy breath. "It doesn't matter, though, Cass. If all of the options mean we die, then why stress about which one to take?"

The question gives Cassie pause, and though at first she opens her mouth to issue some retort, she hesitates, rethinking. "Something to do I guess," she concludes, and if there was a deeper response she might have offered, she's playing coyly teenage apathy now instead. "Better than being in Solitary." With some difficulty, she pushes to her feet and makes her way over to where Silver is working, reaching out to pick up the radio that was used to send a signal out to Mount Weather.

"The Grounders are terrified of that place, you know," Silver notes, glancing toward the radio. "The people who ritually scar themselves, engage in biological warfare, and think slaughtering a camp full of dumb kids is justice for an accident, are scared of people who hide in a mountain."

<FS3> Cassandra rolls Electronics-1: Success.

"Lots of things to be scared of in the universe," says the bandaged Skaigirl, turning the radio over in her hands and inspecting it with interest. She can obtain little information of use from it, but she does raise it to her ear for a moment and narrow her eyes at the strange crackling sound. "Wouldn't mind the Grounders being scared of us, for one. But I don't have a back-up plan or… option. And I don't wanna bend over for the Grounders any more than I do for the Ark. Or for the ex-Cs who get to decide who gets a gun or not." Cassandra eyes Silver aside, then sets the radio back down. "You get it. You're a pragmatist."

"I get it," Silver nods, tucking her hair behind her ear. "It's not how I want to live my life, either. I don't want to be someone's pawn. I don't want to be at the mercy of someone else's choices. But while I am? I've got to be smart about it. I've got to…" She grimaces, shaking her head. "I thought we were making progress with the grounders, showing them we had our own value. Then whoever's up on the Ark had to go and fuck things up again."

"It's what they do," Cassandra replies. She gives Silver a long, critical look, trying to reach some sort of decision. But soon she's turning away. "Any news comes of that radio, you let me know. It's making a funny sound, by the way."

"Yeah," Silver looks over at the radio. "Not reassuring, that. Hey," she adds, looking back up to Cassandra. "I'm glad you guys made it back okay. Biological warfare or not."

Pausing, Cass offers to Silver, "Glad you made it back too. You're needed over here." And then she retreats to the tent flap, heading back into the nervous camp.

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