Day 010: Puke And Bear It
Summary: Medbay can be a busy place, unfortunately for Cole.
Date: May 17 2016
Related: None
Cole Cassandra Morgan Cameron Grey 


Primary Passenger Hold, The Dropship
This was once the main passenger cabin of the dropship, holding rows and rows of seats and a small communications console along one wall. Since landing, the seats have been removed, and it has been turned into a combination sick-bay and storage. The deck, ceiling, and walls are all bare metal, and several "wings" jut out from the main area, forming little cubbies that still provide exactly zero privacy. One of the cubbies has been re-purposed as a makeshift medbay, with an equally-makeshift table and several small bundles of supplies. There is usually someone sitting around here tending to the medical supplies or just watching over them. Two ladders descend to the cargo hold below, one of them also rising up to the top level of the dropship through a hatch that can be locked from below.
Evening of Day 10

It's been at least three hours since Cassie ditched a sick, near-unconscious Cole in his tent to send better medical help his way. The late evening sky is tinged a bruise-like shade of purple and blue when she comes trudging up towards the Dropship where he's been hauled, by which time her bags for tomorrow's expedition have been fully packed, she's eaten her fill of dinner, and several campfires are roaring around camp. Her heavy steps come clanking up the ladder to the primary passenger hold, and her appearance is preceded by the sight of a backpack being thrown across the floor at the techie's feet. Soon she's pulling herself up through the same gap and is once again on her feet.

"He looks like crap," she says, appalled, to the nearest medic on hand.

If wasn't by the shallow breathing causing the movement of his blanket, Cole would look dead. The fever hasn't quite broken, but it's at least lowered a bit, the rambling has died to something that borders more on pathetic perhaps slightly whiny sounds. Bouts of sleep, intermittent with more bouts of throwing up. The sound of a voice rouses him, at least tot he point of cracking an eye open. "Didn't know you fuckin cared…" he utters weakly back to Cassandra.

A medtech, by the way of Jonsey, with mousey-blonde hair, regards Cass a bit. "Silver had him brought up here a couple hours ago. Reduce spread of contagion. Thinking it's a virus of some kind. Just gotta let it play out." There's a dubious tone to his voice, not wanting to add on 'if we had better medication' out loud. "He's fighting the water, keeps rambling on that other people need it more than him. Maybe /you/ can talk some damn sense into him."

"Fuck off Jonesy. Don't need your damn…speechifying." Cole coughs into his blanket.

"He's such a great patient. Reminds me of my mother. She was a bitch too." Apparently, they two have developed a relationship based on verbal jabs.

'Contagion'. 'Virus'. Whether or not Cassie cares, those words are enough to have her taking a seat at the far edge of the cramped hold, with as much space between her and Cole as is feasible. "Virus?" she asks all the same. "I heard he did this to himself. Seems like just the type of stupid shit he'd pull." She gives the man a stare from across. "I don't care," she insists. "I just came to hear it from the horse's mouth if it's true."

Morgan's presence is heralded by the sound of someone climbing up from below. He's shirtless as has been standard the last couple days but the bandages on his chest have also been removed revealing an arrow hole that's healing cleanly though it still has a ways to go and is going to scar. The missing bandages are bundled in his hand, damp, as are his pants though not his boots or sword belt. And he's clean. "Hey. I just heard." He'd been out of camp a number of hours. "So what's going on?"

Saying that she doesn't care, that seems to actually bother him, Cole turning to face the bulkhead and his back to everyone else. "You heard it. There." he utters, coughing again.

"Flu. I'm guessing at anyways. And yeah, it's a virus. Normally not something you or I really have to worry about. For the…most part, we're healthy. But him," Jonesy nods over at Cole. "Yeah, did it to himself. Long work hours. The whole idiotic thing with giving his rations away, because who the hell does that beyond an idiot. Dude tried to literally work himself to death. So…now I get to watch his dumbass." And there's really not much he can do beyond make him drink water in the hopes of keeping it down. The medic shakes his head at Morgan. "Nothing, unless you consider suicide by work an interesting way to go."

It's not long after Cole climbs that Cameron, much more silently— everything he does is silent, even when he's wandering around he's really /sneaking/ around— that Cameron comes up the ladder. He's clean, too. Remarkably. His hair is a bit mussed, but in a fashion that's not like, unappealing, and otherwise his rather pale complexion looks downright healthy and … shiny? No, he's not shiny. Just brighter then usual, what with not a smudge to be seen on him. He also has this completely unapologetically /smug/ expression on his face. Cameron totally ate the canary. He ate that canary but GOOD. And he's not the least but shy about it, no he's not.

Cassandra definitely isn't the kind of person to give her rations away. Ever. Hell, she's the kind of person to steal other people's rations when they aren't looking, or at least to passively take more than her fair share. So when the mousey-blonde medtech by the name of Jones explains that this is what Cole's been doing to end up here, she can only stare and slowly nod her head for a few aghast beats. "Jeez, Cole," she eventually says to that, rising to her feet. Though she's still reluctant draw too near in case of contagion, she does approach to where they can see each other better, and places her fists on her hips two feet from his bed rest. "For someone so damn smart you can be so dumb."

"So he's actually sick?" Morgan asks and doesn't get any closer. "Wonderful. I can't afford to pick up his bugs and spread them to the Grounders too. The last thing we need is to kill them all off." Glancing over his shoulder, he smiles at Cam but turns back to look at Cole. "So, worked himself till he dropped and made it worse by not eating?" He shakes his head. "That sure helps everyone. Make sure he eats and drinks and give him lots of willow tea. Extra strong." He definitely heard something about a fever.

"Short version, his immune system bottomed out, allowed the virus to take hold." Jonesy says blithely. "Long version, a combination of lack of sleep, constant work, mental stress, fatigue, little food or water, and that puts together a lovely little cocktail that I like to influenza pneumonia. And you're completely right. But just be glad you're not the one that gets to empty his barf bucket out behind the dropship." he explains, using a piece of cloth for a breath mask, soaked in water. It'll keep some contagion down. "So if you guys are gonna sit in here, do it over on the /other/ side of the room please. I'm already exposed, but our odds are good that we won't actually develop any symptoms. Because, y'know, we actually eat, drink, and get something that borders on real sleep."

"Are you…fuckin done yet, Jonesy?" Cole sputters from his makeshift bed on one of the benches. An eye looks over at Cass, resulting in a sigh. "Nobodies perfect…" he mutters. "I fucked up. Happy now?"

"No, not really. I'll be happy be when you learn your lesson and we're not doing this again. But if you're lucky, this'll get you sympathy with the ladies. Y'know, pending they'll want to touch you afterward."

"Oh…you can just fuck…" he makes an odd sound.

"Mmhmm…Cassandra, I'd step away if I were you. I know that sound." Jonesy add lightly, getting up, picking up the barf can. "Thanks, Morgan. I'll see if I can get him some."

Having scrambled up, Cameron glances around, and sidles over to stand beside Morgan, seeking to entwine his fingers in the other man's. Oh he's so full of smug self-satisfaction that he could burst. He even look sat Cassandra and doesn't sneer, not one it, but greets instead in an amicable tone, "Hi, guys." He adds, a bit absently, letting the medical talk flow over him, since he's got no real input better then the medtechs here. But he doesn't seem to mind one bit.

Grey comes clambering up the second ladder, and if he's not as clean as Cameron and Morgan, he's only a day removed from it. He still needs a shave though. He looks around the second floor of the dropship, skipping past Cole in the crowd of folks not-quite-getting close to him, then his gaze comes back, and he swings off the ladder to head in that direction, resettling his slung baton and faux-leather jacket.

Cassandra doesn't need to be told twice. The beautiful sound of her own name coupled by 'I'd step away from danger' and she's two steps behind. Then there's that other thing the resident medtech says: 'mental stress'. "So you're saying I basically shouted him to death," she divines. For that is the last memory she has of the moment before Cole passed out.

When Cameron climbs up, she turns to give him a nod. Not only does she not sneer at the man, but it's been only twelve hours or so since their spat and she already seems to have forgotten about it. Feisty she may be, but a grudge-holder she apparently is not. "Help if a few of you could hold him down and make him drink something, I guess," she suggests, now that there are three fine specimens of muscly masculinity hereabouts. And lest anyone think her selfless: "Won't help no one if he dies overworking himself before he's finished that wall."

"Unlikely." Morgan confirms, clasping Cam's hand. "But we can still carry it and spread it. Probably good that we're leaving tomorrow. Just in case." Getting Oxfor sick would be bad. Though the Grounder's probably as healthy as an ox given how close the resemblance is. Lifting Cam's hand to kills it, he releases so he can give Cole a wide berth and dump the damp bandages onto a curved section of tree bark on the floor: the 'to be boiled and reused' hamper. Pseudo-hamper. When Grey shows up, he looks over and nods once before commenting "Wall's useless. Might keep out some wild animals but that's it. Good for morale I guess."

Cameron gives an easy, quick nod to Cassandra's suggestion, "I'm up for sitting on a guy. I managed to sit on an Asher and not get bucked off, so this is becoming a pretty practiced thing I go about doing. Cameron! Come sit on a guy, says Morgan. I say, sure lover, I will come sit on a guy." He gives a wry half-shrug and grins, showing quick signs of dimples as he does so, "So if need be, if the good of the people call upon me, I, Cameron He Who Sits, will sit on a guy." Cam doesn't object to Morgan going and doing his dumping, even if it means they aren't snogging for the moment. He adds with a nod to Morgan, "The problem with a wall is we're too close to starvation. Someone surrounds us and we die in three days even if they can't get past the wall."

With almost a sigh, Jonesy grabs the old coffee can that's being used and sits on the bench with Cole. "C'mon, just get it out already." Don't have to tell Cole twice, and there's that uncomfortable, gut-wrenching sound of someone losing their lunch. Mostly just water, really. And most of that is just dry heaves. Throwing up bile is never really that much either, which just suggests that he really isn't keep anything down at the moment. At the end, he sets the bucket under the bench, then going back to his own little assortment of things, rubbing his hands with a bunch of leafy-looking things. He shakes his head at Cass. "No, not likely. I figure it's been building up for awhile. The shit he's talked about when the fever was it's worst, yeah, I'd say the dude's had plenty of shit on his mind. That whole thing talking with Oxfor, was probably the tipping point. You, if you did really yell at him, just bad place, bad time. Though it might've been the last straw, dunno.

Cole maybe two steps away from dead, but he hears Morgan. "Walls not…fuckin useless…it's-!" A little bit of fervent energy there, but he's held down by Jonesy. "Stop, Cole. Someone getting pissed at your work isn't going make things better."

Grey frowns at the suggestion of holding someone down, "What the heck happened to him?" He nods to Morgan, Cameron, Cass, and Jonesy, then shrugs, "I don't know, the wall was something that brought people together. Out of fear, sure, but still…" Turning his attention down to the fallen techie, he frowns, "Well hell. Here I was hopin' you could fix me up something to go fishing with, Cole."

"And I was hoping he could fix me up with a crossbow," says Cassie with a wistful sigh. At Jones's advisement, she takes a few further steps back until she's against the far wall again, where she crosses her ankles in a crooked lean. "Not taking a Grounder-made sword to their own village. I really hope nobody else is planning to." She sends Cameron and Morgan a glance, though in truth, it's those not in the room that bear worrying about most. "He's been refusing water and food. Overworking himself. Apparently," she tells Grey, grimacing at the sound and smell of vomit.

"It's very nice wall." Morgan assures Cole. "Very well built. You did a good job of it. But the trees on the other side of the wall are all taller. And the Grounders have spears and bows and are very good at climbing trees." Proven by their initial ambush. "So all the wall would do is trap us inside while they kill us off one by one at their leisure. Or let us starve to death. Though we'd die of thirst first." Since there's no food or water supply inside the wall. "But it brought people together so it was a good idea." Just… useless. "Nice view too. You should finish it." He picks up some fresh cloth/bandages then pauses to glance down at his sword when Cass mentions it. "I haven't decided yet actually. Oxfor's already seen them." He looks across at Grey. "You took yours when you took them back to their village?" He doesn't recall if Grey was wearing his when he showed up outside the wall. Oxfor was the main attraction.

Jonsey sighs at Morgan. "Look, I get you want to be all smarty-pants and point all the things wrong with someone's project, go ahead. But right now, in the end pointless, just don't do it when that person is sick as shit, yeah? That's just in bad taste." Then a shrug. "If you really want to make it better, go chop down all the trees in a ten yard radius or something, I don't know. I'm a medic, not some dude with all the damn ideas." A look over at Cole. "Unlike /some/ people. Either way, his fault or not, lay off. Won't make him feel any better. And I don't know about you, but I feel a lot better with that wall. Some protection is better than none."

"Maple…bends good…" Cole blinks up, as if suddenly coming awake for a the moment, lured by the mention of the crossbow. "Harder wood for stock…string…can't think of anything good. Sketches in tech tent…" then another coughing fight, because talking a lot at once isn't a good idea for him. Wet, hacking coughs, Jonesy then rolling back over onto his side, as a precaution. Then the mention of the fishing pole. "Willow…good luck with…string…" No, not ever two steps away from the grave, can't stop thinking about stuff to work on. Better than anything else going on in his head.

Grey shakes his head at Morgan, "It keeps us from being overrun. Starvation gives more time for a response than being swept aside in a tide of…" one hand pinwheels a moment, searching for the right word, "panthers, Grounders, Mountain Men, whatever." He shakes his head at Morgan's question, gesturing over to Cassandra and then reaching up to pat the 'hilt' of his steel-rod club, "Nope, I left it here. Wore my Ark shirt too," as opposed to the Grounder-made one he's wearing now under his jacket. "But I also didn't hide that I'd been at the Rescue, or that I'd killed someone there," although the mention of his killing someone draws his lips tight for a moment. The coughing and hacking from Cole, deepens the frown, but the man's words cause the frown to evaporate, replaced with a too-wide grin, "Oh no. I was thinking about some explosive fishing. Figured if anyone knew how to make something blow-up under-water, you would. Plus, you might like some deep-fried river snake."

The mention of Grey having killed people at the rescue has the colour rising in Cassandra's cheeks. She's killed people too; two, in fact, and it happened after only six days on the Ground. "You reckon they're going to let Asher keep Steak and New Boots? I know he's planning to ride it to their village." While Jonesy's chiding of Morgan does have her hopping on the bandwagon to give the critic a look, that look is equal parts concerned and attentive as it is admonishing; apparently, she isn't dismissing his points out of hand.

After a long, long pause — a deeply uncomfortable one at that — she adds, "I don't think any of us can deny the Grounders seem to know what they're doing… on the Ground."

Morgan watches Cole as he talks. Getting the guy mad was kind of the point if it gives him a reason to want to get up and prove him wrong. But perhaps too soon. "Tendons." he suggests. "From one of the kills. The tendons in a body are some of the strongest things in it. And very ropy. Might work for both the bow and the fishing pole if you dried them." Cass' mention of the horse gets him to look over at her sharply. "Damn. I knew I was forgetting something. I wanted to ask Asher to give it back as a show of good will."

"Charcoal." Cole starts, Jonesy shaking his head, unable to stop the man from talking. "Sulfur. Saltpeter. Don't know the…ratios…" More coughing. "…someone with chemistry. Not me…boom." A weak gesture with his hand, suggesting that the right amounts of each will make the thing that Grey is looking for. But he's not chemist, he just knows the ingridients involved in making it.

"Stop it, Cole. Stop talking." Jonesy notes, taking a rag to wipe off his brow, and keeping damp hair out of his face. While attends to his duties, he listens to the stuff about the horse. "Sounds like he just wants to ride the horse in as a big 'screw you' to the Grounders. Because something like that won't show we're petty at all. Gonna tote around their heads on poles next? I mean, if we want to go all out?"

Grey shrugs slightly at Cassandra's question, "Don't know. Don't figure he'll want to give it back even if they ask." He nibbles at a fingernail, "Wonder if I have time to stop him," nodding to Morgan, he adds, "Or suggest he give it back. From what I saw, they're pretty protective of their horses." Cole's 'recipe' draws a slow nod, and he glances over to Morgan and then Cassandra, "What the hell's saltpeter? Or who do we got down here that knows chemistry?" Jonesy's sarcastic(?) comment about heads on pikes has Grey looking up sharply from his thoughts, "No!" Shaking his head, he adds, "I'm going to show them where we hid the bodies. And they're going to show me where Rees and Perry's bodies are in return."

"Saltpetre's a mineral used for explosives. You could probably find it in the Anarchist Cookbook. Too bad we don't have the Anarchist Cookbook, or any books with any useful information down here on Earth. Someone should talk to Jack Carter on the radio and ask him to copy us a new plant and tracks chart for the local area." A deep breath, and the disgraced nerd continues. "And don't show them the blasted bodies. We stripped them fucking bare. They'll just crucify you if you do. Literally."

"Us…" Cole gets out. "Gotta…boil down your piss…" There's a very faint smile on his lips. "Have…fun, with that."

Jonesy, as always, listens, then nods. "Potassium nitrite. Saltpeter. I mean, where do you think the name comes from? We excrete salt in urine. From…hell, don't make me say it. I don't know a lot of chemistry, but I do know a bit of organic chemistry. Sorta comes with the territory. DOn't know how to make whatever you're talking about but…potassium nitrite, yeah, you'd have boil down your urine. Or manure, I guess. Though I go more animal than person, but I guess you could get it there too. Just…be careful handling it. I don't want to start treating a bunch of people for E.Coli because they were playing with poop." As for the bodies,he looks skeptical. "Maybe giving them back means more than whether or not they got their stuff with them. I dunno. Though I'd be careful about taking or claiming of their stuff you took off them while at their camp. If I were them, I'd probably be a bit pissed about that kinda thing too."

"It won't hurt to ask him." Morgan says. "And he's not dumb. He knows it would help things." Though it's not going to be easy, if indeed it's possible. Grey's comment makes him frown. "They didn't find them yet? You must have hid them well." Reaching up to testing probe the edge of his wound, he sets the bandage back down. Let it breath for now. "Problem is, we don't have any other weapons to speak of except the swords. And while I don't expect they'd be much good against the entire village, there are other dangerous than Grounders."

Grey nods to Cassandra, "Yeah. I don't figure that discussion would end without punches thrown." Cassandra's worry about the bodies causes him to shake his head though, "They want to burn the bodies. It's their way, apparently." A glance to Cole, "So nice call on Victor and Skye." He blinks at the talk of piss, then glances to Jonesy, "Salt, from my Peter. Got it. Nothing else explosive around we could use, Cole?" He nods toward Jonesy, "'Cause I'd like to not go diggin' through the shitters." Looking over to Morgan, he adds, "When we went into Coesbur, we handed over our weapons. Spears and knives should do plenty to keep everyone safe to and from camp, yeah?" Shrugging, he adds, "Or just wear the swords. I mean, they know we killed their people. And I don't know if they found 'em all yet. Might have found some." He considers something, then shakes it off without further comment.

For someone who's been so insistent on peace with the Grounders from Day One (or Day Five, rather, which is when they discovered their existence), Cassandra seems oddly defensive now about the bodies thing. When Grey persists with his argument, she snaps, rounding on him, but with the ferocity of a caged and cornered cat rather than a predator planning an attack. "Look, I found the bodies, okay?" she says. "Rees and Perry's. Let it go. You don't want to see them. I've seen them, and trust me when I say you don't want to see them. Don't show the Grounders what we did to their bodies. They're just bodies. We don't need ours back and they don't need theirs. Tell them you sent the bodies down the river and you're sorry."

"Cass's tits…" Cole utters. "They're pretty…bombastic…." Oh yeah, leave it to him. But it's clear he's only /kinda/ listening to all the voices going around, in and out of consciousness. A tug at Jonesy's shirt. "Duuuuude, she's hot…"

"That's nice, honey. Just go back to chasing that pink unicorn." Jonesy remarks, putting a hand on Cole's forehead. Then a frown. "Sonavabitch, you're burning up again." he mutters, getting up to soak his rag in a small container of water, wringing it out and putting it on his forehead. "Look, we don't know their customs or cultures or anything like that. Maybe their dead, in whatever state their in, is important to them. We don't know that. Maybe they'd be more offended if we didn't give them their bodies back. What then? If they want them, give them to them. I really don't want to think about what might happen if we don't."

"It hurts nothing to let them have their dead for funerals. And burning seems just as good as any other way." Morgan says with a shrug. Hearing Jonesy, he looks around 'medbay'. "We don't have any willow tea boiled up?" Now where'd they put the damn bark?

Cameron's been around, right? Somewhere. Doing something. He pipes up, "We can't really afford to offend them right now. We lose nothing by giving them their dead, and they might interpret it as respect." He pauses, "Or they may not care. Net result, win or neutral, why not?"

Grey blinks at Cassandra's vehemence, confusion splashing across his face at the confession. "You found…?" And then his brows rise, "Oh. Right. Because…" Shaking his head, he notes, "It's too late to keep hiding them, Cassandra. I told Wren kom Trikru that I would help him find his sister's body." He nods to Cameron slightly, "And I think they value honesty. At least Wren does." His features harden for a moment, "And I plan to make sure that even our dead come home." One hand gestures in the general direction of the little four-person graveyard that has sprung up just outside the walls, and then he relents a little, admitting a little greenly, "It might be good to get someone to make a… what's it called… shroud? outta the new parachute cloth."

She's doing her best to be serious, really, which is why Cassandra looks very uncomfortable and doubly confused when her tits are brought into the equation. Cole is spared a glance, and then one hand comes up to absently drape across her upper chest area, holding her arm and making her look both smaller and more androgynous. "You're right, we don't know their customs or cultures," she falsely concurs with Jonesy, for something in her expression implies she does know something. And despite the fever-brained distraction, her tone remains firm. "We don't know that they won't kill us all and crucify us alive if they find out we've disrespected their dead. You give them back, you might have to give them back their clothes and weapons and all that too. We don't know where our needed show of 'respect' might end." She purses her lips. "Better to lie." Better to lie — that's Cassie's policy on everything in a nutshell.

"If one of them asked specifically for the bodies, then maybe we should just do that." Jonesy suggests idly, but his tone is distracted, trying to to get Cole's fever down, absently waving a hand at Morgan. "It's about time for his drink anyways." Going back to the others, he shakes his head. "If we start lying now, where would it end? And when it comes back to bite us in the ass for doing so? No, I'm good. Honest and dead or dishonest and dead, you're still dead. That being said, I think not giving them the bodies back at all is a bigger sign of disrespect that bringing them back without their stuff. But that's just me."

"We don't have an airlock to push bodies out of now." Morgan points out. "We might as well adopt their custom in this. Burning the bodies seems like an efficient way of doing it. And they burned up on reentry too so it's sort of the same. The only point to burying them is for fertilizing crops." He nods his agreement with the medic. "I agree. In fact, I was planning on giving them back what I got off of one of the bodies. These small glass spheres. They're meaningless to me but the guy's family might like them. It might be a good idea to do the same with other things people collected that have no real purpose to them." A glance at Cass.

"Lying is never a good idea, because once you do it you have to stick to it forever — and sooner or later it'll all fall apart. Guaranteed. If we start basing our relationship with them on lies, then everything we do with them will be built on an unstable ground." counters Cameron, the paragon of virtue and faithfulness who would never, ever, go against his stated word or principles. Except that once. He does shake his head at Morgan, "I'm not giving back the stuff I took, we can't afford it. We don't exactly have a lot of weapons and armor. There's a limit to how far we go to show respect, we also have to show strength. They killed some of us, we killed some of them. We can't take any of that back, and giving back the spoils just weakens us." That and he likes his new sword. The new armor isn't so nice, but still.

Grey shrugs at Cassandra's words, "They might ask. It can be somethin' for the negotiators," he glances to Morgan, "to handle." He nods to Cameron, "If we start with a lie with the Grounders, where's it end?" He nods to Jonesy, "It's too late now anyhow. Unless I can Bee-ess them into thinking I can't find the bodies again, and I'm good," he smirks a little at that, "but I'm not that good." Really, he's not very good at faking or lying at all. The mention of their own funeral customs causes Grey to shrug, "I kinda like having the graves to remember 'em by, but I've got no skin in the game for how we deal with the bodies, I just want 'em home. With the rest of the One Hundred." Keeping his focus on Morgan again, "One thing you and the other negotiators are gonna have to remember when they start sayin' 'Juice Train Juice Dawn,'" He's really not good at this Trigedasleng thing, "or 'Blood must have blood,' is that blood has had blood, like Cam said."

The Trigedasleng phrase gives her pause, and the glance Morgan gives her when he suggests people return meaningless trinkets isn't missed — but she sure pretends otherwise when she breezes right past. "You didn't see Rees and Perry's bodies, man," a shaken-sounding Cass points out to Jonesy. "I want peace with the Grounders too, but that doesn't mean I'm willing to do something as suicidally stupid as risk upsetting them. We aren't disrespecting their bodies if we just… 'happen' to not find them again." She sends a meaningful, hopeful glance at Grey, like she expects the ex-C to back her up and let them play at 'thick as thieves'. "And Cameron's right." Did she just say that? "About the weapons and armour. We have to be prepared, even though we're trying for peace, that there's also a possibility this all goes south. I plan on heading to their village unarmed, not on stripping down our defences on the off chance we need to tail it back here." After all, Cassandra would be an expert on tailing it back here, eh?

"Did I say armor or weapons?" Morgan asks, looking over at Cam. "Did I say armor or weapons?" he repeats, glancing around. "I said no real purpose. I'm not giving up my sword either but these…" Opening the pouch on his belt, he tilts it and shakes it till some marbles spill into his palm. "These have no purpose except as a relic of the past. If giving them backs earns us some good will, it's worth it. I know other people have other stuff. But what we need to survive is ours." …Juice train? Okay.

Cameron blinks at Cassandra a moment, what was that? She /agreed/ with him? He looks openly disbelieving, but then he's nodding at Morgan, "Okay okay, I misinterpreted." That said, he pauses, and adds, "Since they have the captives, they know we killed that group. Lying about where the bodies are will be completely transparent. That is a far more likely risk to upsetting them."

Jonesy has nothing really helpful to say. So he just shrugs. "Just give them back. Maybe at the first least, they only kill one of you. Or maybe they'll be happy about it. If there's one thing I've learned with all you people, is that everyone loves to second-guess just about everything."

Cole says nothing, he's honestly deathly quiet right now.

Grey shrugs slightly at Cassandra's glance his way, "I want all my people here, even if they're dead. And I already made the promise. If it pisses off the Grounders, I'll be the first one to pay for it, and I'll do everything I can to make sure I'm the last." He shifts his stance a little, frowning in thought, "And yeah. We do need to keep a backup plan. I bet there's more than a few of them that still aren't real happy with us. They'd rather the Juice Train kept runnin'." He nods at Cameron as well, looking to Cassandra, "You're talkin' to an asshole who turned his own damn self in to the Guard. I start lyin' to them, they're gonna know." He snorts a laugh, "Hell, I start lying to you lot, you're gonna know."

"Whatever. I'll be at the Grounder village, making friends," says the haughty woman. It's hard to believe Cassandra could make friends with anyone, let alone agree with Cameron, but she's being all sorts of dubious today… as usual. And so picking up the bag she's packed for the supposedly social expedition, she turns towards the cargo hold ladder to make her exit. "You lot suggested it, so best be damned sure it won't be me showing them the bodies, and it won't be me they off for it. Grey and Cameron can do that." She pauses at the gap, evidently reconsidering, then amends, "Actually, scratch that. Grey's our muscle. Just you, Cameron." She upnods the botanist — her competition — then swings the bag down the hatch to proceed onwards.

Morgan finally finds where they put the damned bark and takes a piece. After glancing at Cole, he takes four pieces. "Say Cass, since you're leaving… Can you get someone to make up some tea for him please?" he asks, stepping over to offer her the bark. "Boil these in…" Yeah, no measuring cups, flasks or beakers. "…enough water for what looks like 3 cups or so. It'll be strong and bitter but maybe Cookie can give you some berries to help the flavor." To Jonesy, he says "Can't hurt to let it steep even after you give him some to drink. Should bring his fever down. If not, give him more till it does. Repeat as necessary." No way to tell dosage either. They might as well be living in fucking caves.

"I would but I can't exactly leave him right now. So if someone else wants to do it, it'd be /real/ nice of them." Jonesy remarks dryly. "Aaaaand, he's out again. Damnit." There's a light wave at everyone else. But it seems for the most part, he's focusing on his patient, making sure he doesn't at least die in front of him.

Cole is probably dreaming. Of diesel engines shaped liked boobs or something. That would be his thing.

"I don't know where they all are, Cassandra. I helped hide a couple but not all of them. Grey was basically in charge that day. He was basically directing things that day." replies Cameron to Cassandra, a little shrug of his shoulders. If she's thinking of sending him to offend the grounders, he doesn't seem to mind. Nothing's penetrating his pleased mood today.

Grey shakes his head, tapping his own chest, "It'll be me showing them. I'll leave you guys to do your doctor thing, and I'll just meet with Wren and the guys he's got to help move them, and do what I can to remember where they all are. You guys should totally focus on the sick." His lips twist up into a very dry grin as he realizes that his words could be construed as giving orders again, and he adds wryly, "That's my suggestion, at least." Shrugging a little helplessly, he adds, "Plus, if they get angry, I'll be the only one there for them to get angry at."

Though she outstretches her hand to accept Morgan's offerings, Cassandra gives him a suspicious look, eyes narrowed. This is the second time the medtech kid's asked her to fetch things and do things for someone other than herself… "I've got stuff to do. I'll pass them on to the next person I see," she says, closing her fingers around the bark. Grey simply gets a roll of her eyes, but before she disappears, she offers the dreaming Cole a curt yet sincere, "May we meet again." The sound of her muddy boots land with a thud down below, and then she's gone.

"You're coming?" Morgan asks, glancing over at Grey. Though it's not really a question given the tone. More like resignation. "Thanks Cass." he tells the girl and moves over to a corner to pick up a rag. Shaking it out reveals his shirt, dirty, bloodstained and holed. Exactly why he doesn't wear a shirt lately. "I should wash this thing out now there's some closer water.

Cameron nods at Grey's intention to go find them the bodies, but he otherwise lapses into some silence, though he blinks and adds suddenly, "I'm going to try chatting up their healer about herbs while there, friendly like." he ventures.

Grey shakes his head at Morgan's question, "Not… officially. I'm not goin' in to do any meet-and-greet or anything like that. With Faolan and Asher," there's a pause, and then he adds, "And Cam and Cassandra, you should be perfectly safe from any angry Grounders. But their village ain't a monkey shit fight like the camp is. Oxfor wants to give us a chance, so they'll give us a chance. I'm just goin' up to meet with Wren and head out to get the bodies." He chuckles just a touch, "I won't be steppin' on any toes." Cameron's note draws another nod from Grey, like he's confirming common sense.

"So you'll be coming back here once you've showed him?" Morgan asks, turning to look at Grey fully. "Look, I know we don't like each other but I want to ask you to do something for me. Find Devin. No one's seen him lately. I've looked a bit but couldn't find him. His stuff is gone though so he didn't just go hunting and fell into a river or something. I'd go myself but…" There's a village of Grounders to heal. And if Devin left on his own, that's different form being captured. "Will you go find him? Please?"

Cameron's head turns sharply, blinking at Morgan, looking suddenly concerned, "Last I saw him for sure was a couple days ago when we killed the panther around the refuge. His stuff is gone?" There's a sudden energy in him, and he shifts from one foot to another, and he glances at the ladder down.

Grey bites at another nail at Morgan's request, "I'll be back here by evening, unless somethin' dragged a body away. But yeah. Lookin' for Devin and Mika and Zoe is on my list. I like the little guy, even if I think you guys jumped on the Grounder train a little fast and a little hard. But even if I didn't," see the other two examples he listed, "I promised the whole camp I'd go after anyone who was missin'. No idea where to find 'em, but I'll damned sure look."

You don't have to look for the others. And really not for Zoe. Morgan just nods though. "Thanks. If this wasn't so important or if he'd been captured or something…" Morgan would already be off after him. "Yeah, Cam. I don't know why. He didn't say anything to me." And he's so going to get yelled at once they find him.

"Maybe grab Silas, he's good at tracking?" offers Cameron up quickly to Grey. and turns a concerned frown at Morgan's response, fidgeting.

Grey nods to Cameron, "Silas, or Evie, or Hanne, or Martin." Snorting a chuckle, he adds, "Because we know I can't track for shit." And then he blinks, tilting his head to one side as if thinking, and a smile spreads across his mouth, "Y'know… even if we don't find something that can go boom…" Shaking it off, he looks back to Morgan and Cameron, "You two haven't even been up to the village. I guess I heard right about enough water without river-snakes in it for washin'?"

Morgan is squeaky clean! "Cam and some others found it. Water's cold as hell but who cares. There's plenty of it to wash in and a lot closer so we can bring back all we want so long as we have containers for it. A bit of a walk but not as far as the river." He glances over at Cam and adds "Not sure where the stream leads, maybe even closer? Did anyone follow it?"

Cameron nods his head -emphatically-, "The stream's a bit shallow to wash in but if you crouch and aren't modest, it'll do the job, but it empties into a cave that has some deep pools. I can't 100% guarantee the pool yet, we should throw some more rocks in it and watch and make sure." He tilts his head, "More, there's a… domed chamber, with old campfires in it. It looks both defensible and you can light fires in it— there's a crack in the ceiling so the smoke will escape.. I'm calling it the refuge. It might be a good resource. The fires are old, decades old, so I don't think the Grounders still use it." He sighs, contentedly, "But fuck its nice to be clean. Relatively speaking, I guess." Then he shakes his head at Morgan, "No, after we killed the panther that was nesting there we came back. Niner got a bit … bitten, so I didn't scout extensively. Can do so when we get back, though."

Grey listens to the descriptions, and then his smile spreads wide across his lips, "Stop by the bathroom in Coesbur if you get the chance. They heat the water in basins." And then he blinks, and looks down to nip at one corner of a fingernail again, "Uh, just watch out, because anyone can walk in at any time. Men or women. No real privacy inside." And then his grin's back, and it's beatific, "But there is soap." And then he's back to the future-important point, considering, "I'm assumin' the cavern isn't big enough for all of us. But maybe it'd be nice for hunting parties who want to stay out late?"

"I was thinking it might be a good place to move to." Morgan agrees. "The ship is nice but there's no water." A glance at the dozing Cole. "We could always build walls around the cave entrance to enclose a clearing with the water running under the wall." It's what Grey says that /really/ gets his attention though. "Soap? Yesssssss. I want to take a bath with soap and really wash. But that means any actual surgery will also be safer. That's the best news yet."

Cameron looks inspired: hot water? Soap? Civilization! He's nodding along with Grey, "I'll have to check it out. But no, its not big enough for all of us. But, that's only /one/ cave. There's multiples, and we didn't explore alpha entirely. The panther attacked and tried to eat Niner then. It could be a whole cave network, no telling how expansive it is without a more serious and non-rushed exploration."

Grey frowns at Morgan's suggestion, "Unless it's big enough for all of us, there's not much point in moving away from the dropship, is there?" He tosses his head like a horse might toss at a fly, "Even if you want to run away from the rest of the Arkers when they come down." The only way the eye roll behind those words could be more audible would be if he were a teenage girl instead of a teenage boy. Pondering a moment, he wonders, "Would the vidlink up to the Ark even work down there?" Of course, it works when the Ark's orbit takes it to the other side of the planet from them, so…

"If the Arkers are smart, they won't land here." Morgan states. "There's no water. We can hunt anywhere but water is another matter. And don't forget winter is coming. You think all of us will be sleeping in the dropship? With fires going to heat the inside? With the smoke slowly filling it?" He shrugs. "We can't stay here no matter what, it's not practical. Exploring those caves completely sounds like it should be a priority."

Cameron rubs hia hands together, his expression thoughtful, "I'm not sure the caves are perfect, but perfect is the enemy of good. They're a resource we should be prepared to take advantage of, one way or another. Come winter, we're going to need more shelter then the dropship, even if it means we need to start chopping down trees and putting up buildings. However you do /that/. I'm a botanist, not a carpenter."

Grey shrugs helplessly, "I got no idea what the rest of the Arkers'll be bringin' down. Maybe they'll have prefabs, or construction materials, or whatever. If not, we're gonna need a lot of help from the Grounders to build some houses, like you said. 'Cause you're right, I don't want to be huddling in the dropship or in a cave come winter, although at least the dropship we can close the ramp if we have to." Of course, it would be a ridiculously tight fit for people living inside in that case, and he shakes the idea off, "And I damn sure know there hasn't been a carpenter on the Ark in like… forever."

"If he can build a wall, he can build a house." Morgan says, gesturing at Cole. It's totally the same, right? "But we need to figure out where. And what we're doing in general. A lot of people are going to say we need to wait till the Ark comes down but that's wasted time, time we might need later. I'd rather waste effort if it turns out we don't need whatever we did."

"Personally, if we are going to start building structures, I think the refuge is a better place. Its not my decision, but being near to clean, running water is a big advantage. The dropship is…" Cameron shrugs, lifting a hand up and running it through his hair, which he promptly pats back into place. "…just /here/. By happenstance, chance. Not because its an actual viable, valuable or strategic location."

Grey chuckles at Morgan's reference to Cole, "I'd like any house I live it not have so many… peepholes, thanks." But at least he's laughing when he says it, and he nods a little grudgingly at Morgan's words, "As long as it doesn't take away from anything else we're doin', I agree." Glancing to Cameron, he adds, "I'm not sure I want to give up the dropship though, especially not after someone stripped the escape pod." His brows lower into a frown, "I mean, I don't even know what sort of goodies are in here, but it's definitely a strategic location now. There's the batteries and solar panels at least, the lights, the screens, the engines…" the fuel, but he doesn't know that they're currently sitting on a reserve of hyper-volatile hydrazine. "You're right about the water though. All the more reason to have an alliance with Coesbur though. Then if someone attacks us, they can relieve us before we run out of supplies."

"Exactly." Morgan agrees and runs his hand over his hair. So much to do, so little time to do it. "Ok, look. We're going to the Grounders' village. Grey's going to go looking for Devin. And Cole needs to rest so he'll get better so he can start figuring out how to build us houses. Who did you say was at the caves with you, Cam? Can you get one of them to plan some trips to explore them while we're gone?" Pause. "And someone to start planning to strip the dropship." he adds once Grey mentions the pod. "Not yet of course but… Silver. She's on the tech side of medicine. She probably could see what would be needed." The rest of what Grey says gets a sidelong look. "So you're a convert now?"

"Lip, Niner, Silver, Alison, Devin, Martin." Cameron recites off the names of those who were with, "I'll talk to someone about finishing exploring cave alpha." That said, he nods to Grey, "I'm sure we have enough tech training among us that we can take all of that with us, and leave just a shell behind. I *really* don't like that we're so far from water, *especially* since we need to start thinking about *farming* as of like, *yesterday*. Irrigation would be invaluable to that ambition. I really don't want to live through winter on what hunting can be found. I don't know."

Grey raises up his eyebrows, "Convert? Hell, as long as they aren't coming after us, I got no reason to go after there, and they can help us, if they want to." Cameron's words have him nodding upwards again, however, "The Ark may not have many stores, but they've still got seeds and hydroponics. I'm not gonna worry about farming, I'll leave that to the Agro folks. I think that's one thing we gotta stop doin', gettin' in each others' business." He points to Morgan, "I don't try to tell Morgan how to heal people up, he doesn't tell me how to set up an ambush, no one tells the Ee-Ess nerds what to eat or what not to… we all gotta look at what we do best and do it for everyone." The idea of stripping the dropship and hauling all the useful parts away seems to have stuck in Grey's mind, however, because he keeps frowning in thought and glancing at the walls and decks around them.

Grey actually says something Morgan can agree with completely so he just nods. "The metal plates would be very useful. The ladders. Well, everything. I bet we could leave it an empty shell with nothing left to take if we tried and find a use for every single part. Even with the Ark coming down, it's all too valuable to waste. Anyway. Thanks for taking care of that, Cam. It finally feels like we're moving toward something instead of just trying to survive day to day." Even if it's just the three of them making plans so far.

Cameron laughs softly, "And I'm a botanist, which means me saying we need to start thinking about farming right now is an Agro folk keeping to his business." He grins ruefully, "But the Agro people can't decide where to set up their farms all on their own, it has to be done in consultation with those who would expect to defend it, among others. While I think we all need to do what we do best, *coordination* between teams is important or we'll *really* be stepping on each others toes, sooner or later." And he gives Morgan a nod, reaching a hand out to snag his and squeeze it.

"How long is it gonna take to break the dropship down? Compared to storin' more food and water and findin' some way to get messages to Coesbur if someone decides to start up a siege?" Okay, so maybe Grey's not completely agreeing with Morgan. That would be too much to ask for, really. Still, he waves to Cameron, acknowledging the point, "I mean, we already got a wall here, so I'd like to farm close by here. But even I know there's no room for it." He shrugs his shoulders as if trying to resettle a weight, "I don't know, man. It just feels… I don't know. This place feels like home now."

"After ten days?" Morgan asks dryly. "You'll get over it. "And it's not an either or situation. We can do both. Though I bet if twenty or thirty of the techs started to strip the ship, it wouldn't take them more than a few days with the proper tools. It'll probably take longer to improvise the proper tools. Anyway, that's all in the future. First we need to know if the caves will work for us all." It certainly will for at least some of them.

"What are the tech types doing otherwise right now?" counters Cameron with a tilt of his head, "Its not like they have a lot of technical things to keep them busy. And I'm not saying they aren't pulling their weight, just that we don't have a lot that requires their expertise, so tearing down the dropship should be right up their alley." He nods to Morgan with a quick grin as he seems to be thinking the same thing, "I don't know about you, Grey, but me? I think this *planet* is home. Besides, the drop ship is *way* too rank for me to think of it as home. Home's wherever Mor and I set up a tent, and ideally, that's near water. Anyways, give it some thought."

Grey shakes his head at Morgan's dry question, reaching out to pat the dropship's side, "Hell, this thing brought me down here, Morgan. It's where we got our first taste of not livin' on the Ark." He nods in the general direction of the little graveyard, "And it's where our dead are." He shrugs a little helplessly, "Maybe I'm bein' sentimental. But yeah, we need to know how much room the caves have, and if you can fix up the Grounders, and if we'll get an agreement with Oxfor…" Cameron gets a dry smirk at the romantic statement, "Yeah, but you've seen how that's gone for me."

Morgan lightly shrugs one shoulder at Grey's response. He's not sentimental, not about anything associated with the camp. "What's important is not where you are but who you're with. And yeah, I can fix them." Hopefully. "I know what to do. I just hope it works. That the Grounders have enough things I'll need." And that actually putting into practice what he's only studied doesn't go horribly wrong. "It should work."

Cameron just nods along with both of them, lapsing into a contented silence as he finds he has nothing to add to the conversation at this point. Cameron, not saying something? He must have been *thoroughly* cleaned at that bath, to have him be satisfied with just nodding along.

Grey nods once, "Good luck." He gives each man a nod, then starts back toward nearest ladder, "We'll keep things goin' while you're gone. And enjoy the bathroom."

"We'll do that." Morgan agrees, turning to watch him leave. "Find Devin, Grey. If he's in trouble, do whatever you need to do."

"Soap." muses Cameron with a wistful expression, and gives a half a wave to Grey on his way out.

Morgan's last point brings Grey's head up as he begins to descend the ladder, "It's what I do." Is there bitterness in his voice, maybe a little, but then he's gone.

Morgan just looks at the ladder a moment then shakes his head. "Right. So much to do, so little time. You'll take care of that then Cam? The caves and the ship. Also, if you run into this guy named… What was his name. Roger. He's a tech. Couldn't hurt to ask him to look into what it would take to do it and send him to Silver.

"I'll get on it right now." Cameron nods his head quickly at that, "I'll get someone to go finish scouting the caves, and meet up with Silver and have her start considering it." With that, he rolls his shoulders, and heads to the ladder to go about doing just that.

"Wait." Morgan says, reaching out to grab Cam's shoulder. Stepping forward, he turns Cam to face him and gives him a kiss that lasts a minute or so. "Thanks for showing me the cave. I had a good time."

Cameron is turned easily, and leans into the kiss, his arms going around Morgan and body pressing close. When the kiss breaks, he sighs happily, "Me too. I had a *real* good time. We'll have to make a habit of it, don't you think?" His grin turns mischievous.

Morgan grins back then reaches up to ruffle Cam's hair, stepping back quickly to avoid any retribution. "See you later. I have a few things to do too before we leave tomorrow." He has a call to make.

At the moment, Cameron can't bring himself to glare like he usually does. Instead, he laughs, and is off.

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