Day 021: Stitches, Bitches, And Bombs
Summary: The wounded recovering after the attack on the camp, their bloody doctor, and a crazy bunch of bomb-making techies share the dropship and manage not to all get blown up.
Date: 9 June 2016
Related: Don't Mind the Wall
Cassandra Stone Morgan Lark Tink Cole Cameron 


Dropship Cargo Hold
The lowest level of the dropship was once meant to store large amounts of cargo in addition to auxiliary seating. As the camp outside was built, however, it was cleared of the meager supplies sent down with The 100, and now is merely storage for the most valuable of resources. It's walls, deck, and ceiling have been stripped to bare metal panels, and several small areas extend beyond the central area, providing an illusion of privacy. A single lowered door with a pair of curtains across it is the only exit from the dropship, while two ladders pierce the ceiling, leading to the levels above.
It is Morning on Thu May 19, 2149.

It's the morning after the battle that tore down the wall of the Delinquent camp. Four are dead from the Blood Fever used by the Grounders as biological warfare, although surprisingly and fortunately, none were claimed by their actual attack. With the sickness passed, the Dropship is now being used to treat the wounded, and though efforts have begun to sterilise it, the air still reeks of dried blood and bile. Cassandra comes staggering back in a few hours after sunrise, clutching her injured head after seeing to some commotion at the Grounds. She almost steps on Billy Stone in her blind haste, and soon collapses into a severed chair to rest.

For his part, Boy Scout Billy (who may get get a new nickname like Pincushion or Meatshield after last night) was oblivious to the intrusion. Whether they found something to knock him out, or just bloodloss and after-battle weariness took him, it seems he's out for the moment like something akin to his surname. He's breathing though, despite the four arrows he took last night, the worst by far through the throat. Laying there, he looks like he's trying out for a part of a Mummy in some old horror flick.

Stripped to the waist, but by no means uncovered with hard dark muscles mostly wrapped in bandages at the moment. The thick ones around left forearm and stomach from axe wounds taken in the Rescue weeks ago, while those covering right bicep, both upper sides of his chest, thicker over the left where one of the two arrows actually was jutting out. And then the worst wrapped around his throat, dark with blood on the right side, but dry, so seemingly having stopped the flow before he bled to death. Despite all that, the gigantic ex-C frankly probably _still_ looks better than half the camp, having been one of those damnable few that seemed immune to the fever and eye-bleeding and such, so he got to skip all _that_ joy entirely other than he was too much of a do-gooder to leave people laying about without help and so before the battle spent most of his off-hours helping tend to the growing crowd of afflicted.

It's a few minutes at least of quiet breathing and her getting a chance to rest. Maybe even right on the edge of slipping off to sleep. But then the steady sound of his breathing hitches, turns into a low rasp of a groan as he stirs. One thick-muscled, mostly unbandaged arm reaching up tenatively towards his throat, hovering at the lack of arrow shaft before relaxation slides through tense muscles and a soft sardonic whisper escapes. "I guess we survived then."

The sound of Stone's voice draws Cass to attention from her stupor, and she cracks open her bleary eyes to peer down his way. It's no secret that being one of the rougher delinquents around camp, she isn't fond of ex-Cs, and has hardly been civil to this one before; but for now, her discourtesy is benched, along with her usual temper. These two just survived a battle together, and though she doesn't display open gratitude, a common enemy to unite them and the weariness of having sustained serious injuries has her displaying some human camaraderie. "For now," she dryly replies. It takes her a moment, but soon Cass pushes to her feet. In her hand she retrieves a wrinkled bag that's been tied up with a metal bolt to form a makeshift hydration pack, and she kneels by Stone's side to bring it to his mouth. "Drink. Or you won't survive tomorrow."

The big battered guy winces a little, hand tenderly probing at his throat a little, dry swallowing experimentally, then grimacing. Dark chocolate eyes flick up to her, a bit of mirth dancing in them, the faint threads of caramel gold in their depths seeming to twinkle. "Might be worth it. And here I thought gettng nearly chopped in half with an axe hurt." Rasping baritone that used to be so rich and resonant, but just as good natured as the so-called Boy Scout always is, however she's treated him in the past, he's always been the sort to be pleasant to most everyone. For now, the offer of water brings an arch to one of his thick dark brows, but a thankful minimal nod. She's not exactly known for her giving nature after all. Sipping from it with a grimace, he only manages a tiny bit before muscles relax him back into the pillow made up of his dirty damaged shirt and vest from the battle. Seriousness slips back in as the whispery voice comes back after looking up to her. "They comin' back then?"

Moment of kindness aside, Cassandra isn't known for her bedside manner. That's a trend around here, and with Doc Morgan out about, it's the best there is for the arrow-feathered pincushion at the moment. "Yep," she states simply, no frills or tact. "Hundreds of them. Grounder came round camp just now to tell us that. Wants us all to roll over and play dead." She lets him drink as much as he needs from her makeshift hydration pack, then wipes the cap down with the corner of her shirt and corks it back up. "Hoping there's a few like you aren't willing to do that. I reckon we got to show 'em what for." She gives him a light, friendly pat on the shoulder, and reaches back to carefully right herself in her chair.

"Blaze of glory and all that?" He rasps back with brow arched again, tone hinting at mirth along with the quirk to one corner of lips. "Maybe. If it gives others a chance to get clear." A wince again, the words hurting in the throat. Yet they're seemingly utterly calm with such ideas of self-sacrifice. No problem going down fighting if it saves people, even though that's not probably what she meant by it.

Morgan has a lot in common with Stone at the moment. He too is stripped to the waist and covered in dried blood. After he and the other medics took care of everyone who needed it, he went right to sleep. Not that there's enough water in the camp to waste on washing even if he hadn't been exhausted. Gnawing on some dried meat for breakfast, he looks around to see if anyone needs him then heads over to Stone on seeing he's awake. "Still alive. That's promising."

That may just be exactly what Cassie meant by it. By reputation alone, she and the boyscount differ on one key point: where he is self-sacrificial, she is merely sacrificial of others — and so that's a match made in heaven if ever there was one. "Blaze of glory and all that," the tatty-haired delinquent concurs, pulling her knees up to her chest. Her swollen eyes scan his injuries critically, assessing the damage as best she can, but before she can deliver a verdict, the better doctor soon walks in. "Told him he can't die 'til you get here. Right Stone?" She gives the large ex-C a nudge with her foot.

Stone's dark eyes track over to the new movement of the bloody medic, the comment bringing a faint snort of amusement and lopsided grin. Cassie's nudge and comment earns her the same smirk in turn, followed up with a gravelly reply. "I'm too stubborn to die when there's still people to look after, we all know that." Wincing again, hand rubbing gingerly at throat, he adds with a look of genuine thanks in eyes tracking back to Morgan. "That an' you do good work, doc. Two lives I owe you now I guess."

"Don't worry about it. We're all in this shit together." Morgan replies as he moves to Stone's side. Sticking the pseudo jerky in his mouth like a long, thick cigarette, he carefully slides a couple fingers under the bandage to test the temperature. "Weren't you supposed to be going to sleep?" he asks Cass.

Stone lets the medic do his thing, not looking eager to be trying to sit up just yet. Though as Cass is getting the 'sleep' talk, the big ex-C is glancing over at her water again for a moment, licking dry lips. Sure it sucks to swallow, but he lost a damn lot of blood last night and dehydration is one of the lesser aches and pains at the moment.

"You're not my mother," Cass tells the good doctor in a dry tone. She rests her chin on her knees, and though she isn't asleep, she looks better now than she did before. She's able to notice Stone asking for more water, and instead of helping him out again, this time she simply passes her pack on over to Morgan to allow him. A critical eye is sent over the blue-eyed blonde's face, a question on her lips, though she doesn't voice it.

Morgan frowns a little but that's the limit of his reaction as he withdraws his fingers. Looking down at what Cass is offering, he takes it then slides an arm under Stone's shoulders to help him sit up just a little before holding the water to his lips. "Ok, instructions. Don't move. You've got a hug hole in your neck and the only thing holding it closed is the pressure of the bandage. It's tight, it's uncomfortable, and since I don't have a fucking sewing needle and thread let alone proper ones for suturing, I don't care. Don't turn your head, you'll pull at the skin and muscle and pull them apart. Got it?"

It's the morning after the battle that tore down the wall of the Delinquent camp. Four are dead from the Blood Fever used by the Grounders as biological warfare, although surprisingly and fortunately, none were claimed by their actual attack. With the sickness passed, the Dropship is now being used to treat the wounded, and though efforts have begun to sterilise it, the air still reeks of dried blood and bile. At the oment, three at least are alive and awake, Cass in a chair watching a shirtless bloody Morgan try to prop up shirtless Mummy-impersonating Stone

"Thanks Cass." Stone rasps her way gratefully with the passing off of water that'll hopefully make it's way to him. Morgan's help actually turns out to be needed as the gigantic pincushion finds his muscles rebelling at trying to sit up. A suppressed groan that slips into lower register of a growl until he's got an arm propped and can take a grateful sip of the water. Only after letting out escaping sigh of relief then does Stone give the faintest upnod of confirmation. "Got it. Though can we work out some way to get me upright if I promise not to move it side to side? Someone needs to go through the bullets we've got left and check for duds. Promise I won't strain, but needs to be done. Those jams could have killed all of us last night."

Tink comes bouncing into the drop ship, a gleeful look on her face. She's a little ball of energy as she calls out to Morgan, "Hey…you got any oxygen tanks that are empty…that I could sort of recycle for a little project that I'm working on." She looks very excited about this project and is shifting foot to foot as she waits for an answer. Stone and Cass get a quick wave and then she's back to shifting back and forth. With all that pent up energy, you could probably run a small power station off this girl.

"Okay." Cole says striding into the dropship with an empty bottle in his hand. His now empty whiskey bottle. "Anybody that doesn't want to be in here while I start siphoning the hydrazine out of it's tanks, really ought to get the hell out of here." He's walking towards the hatch that leads to the sub-maintenance hatch. "Because I have a whole lot of stuff to make, so anybody left in here will be in here of their own risk."

Cass watches Stone drink with a pensive expression, her curled up form bird-like from atop her chair. Her fingertips drum around her muddy boots before she reluctantly says, "If wishes were horses." Her hydration pack's almost empty by the time the boycout's had his fill, and so she patiently waits to reclaim it with an outstretched hand, looking between him and Morgan. "Don't let him die, yeah?" she quietly beseeches the medtech. "Don't let any of them die. I'll be in my tent if there's news." A glance is sent towards one of the other, unconscious pincushions, but Cole's warning serves her well. She rises to her feet, and is soon heading back out the Dropship.

Like the other, Lark comes in from outside - but a handful of moments later. The young woman looked tired, incredibly so - her eyes shift across the room proper.

"If you trigger the stores of hydrazine, the whole camp is going up. Doesn't matter if we're in here, or out there," she states as Cole pushes by - her own eyes track towards the ladder leading towards the upper decks, her nose crinkling at the smell of sick and blood in here.

She takes steps towards the ladder, but she glances back towards the trio proper. "So if you do that, make it quick. Might be easier than dying all the other ways on this rock," she states.

A beat. "How are you guys holding up?" she asks Stone, and Morgan - clearing the entryway for Cass's leaving.

"No." Morgan tells Stone. "Looking down is just as bad as looking right. Up as bad as left. Don't move your head and neck at all. The pressure of the bandages is keeping the edges together. The dried blood is keeping it plugged. Bleeding again is bad and trying to give you a transfusion would probably result in you dying from sepsis." Then he blinks and half turns to gaze at Tink. More like stare. "Oxygen tanks? Do I have any empty oxygen tanks? Where the hell would I have gotten full oxygen tanks to empty them? I don't have a fucking sewing needle." Which would be more useful than oxygen tanks too. Then he turns the look on Cole. "Will there be fumes making people too hurt to safely move cough and reopen their wounds?" The answer here should be no. "Okay, Cass. Go to sleep." Pause. "He's alive." to Lark.

"Still kickin'." Stone replies to Lark with a familiar old phrase he used to use back on the Ark when injured training or down sick with something. Her assessment of Cole's talk of whatever the hell hydrazine earns a pair of dark eyebrows arching high and a glance the mad bomb-makers way. "Well that sounds like a blast." Gods, yes he just actually made that joke. Blame blood loss. The normally shy Boy Scout would have likely never made that terrible pun. As he's easing back down to his makeshift bed then, taking in Morgan's pronouncement, he's grimacing up at him and adding. "Well that's gonna make things difficult. Maybe I can find someone to pass me clips to hold over my face on the ground." Then a pause, and a more somber question he doesn't know if he wants answer to. "Joaquin make it? And Kai? I need to grab anyone who knows guns or maybe some chemist sorts that aren't already blowing us up. We _need_ functional bullets or it isn't gonna matter if I keep from bleedin' to death here."

"Yeah well, don't tell them that." Cole remarks. "Oh it'd take more than the camp. I'm thinking at least everything in a quarter mile radius would be nothing but scorched earth." He gives a fantastic grin then. "Exhilariting, isn't it? I love holding the entire camp's lives in my hands. Makes you want to be extra nice to me, doesn't it?" he winks to that, shaking his head at Morgan. "The fumes shouldn't hurt anyone up here, but I'm going to be down in the sub-level. I shouldn't be exposed to it for too long. Just long enough to fill this bottle. And if you find other large containers about this size. Jars, cans, bottles, whatever, bring them in here. It's going to be less grenades and more mines. I've realized that if someone were to drop one or make a shitty throw, we'd be killing outselves. Setting mines out, pointing them out to someone real good with a rifle? That'll do a lot more damage." He considers a momentarily thought while he opens the hatch. "If we had a hose, I'd say spend some time drenching an area around the camp in hydrazine. Soak it enough, then someone lights it. Though, I'm not sure if I really want to light the forest on fire. Then again, these mines might just do that themselves." There's a suck in intake of breathe. "SO many /ideas/."

Tink makes a disgusted sound, "There's got to be some tanks here…smaller…something I can use." She gives a jaunty wave to Morgan who's doesn't seem to be in a good mood, and then pauses when he makes some comment about not having needles, "What kinda gauge do you need?" She putters on over to Morgan and then roots around in her little belt of wonders before producing a needle, "I think this might work for what you're looking to do…right?" She gives a jaunty smile, "You should have said something earlier about needing one."

"Need an accelerant for it, if you're gonna make a bomb," says Lark. "As I am sure you know. Just cover it in gunpowder and go," she says. "…as I'm sure you're aware."

A beat, and she draws her eyes up towards Morgan, inclining her head towards the man. "That's a good first step - but really, Stone?" she says, grinning at the big guy when he makes that pun. "I know a little bit about guns - and I'm decent with my hands, so - you wanna tag team on that? I can walk stuff over to you, and help out too," she says. A beat, and she crinkles her nose. "Although my chemistry isn't as good as it should be," she adds. Cole's addition has her looking his way, a little grin tugging up the edge of her mouth. Her eyes turn back towards Stone.

"I guess it's a techie paradise right now."

"No one was killed." Morgan tells Stone then looks back over at Cole. "That was actually wanted to was going to suggest. We pour some hydrazine in a circle around the camp then light it when the enemy arrives." Fuck burning down trees. Burn down Grounders. "A needle? A sewing needle? With a hole? Where did you find that? Did you find thread with it?"

Stone's dark eyes light up at the needle from Tink's magic belt, though he's glancing aside to Lark's offer with a flash of lopsided grin and rasping back in that strain-throated baritone. "Sounds good, Lark. Though maybe with a needle, the good doc will be able to sew my throat up enough to not need to walk it to me here." He pauses to give Morgan a hopeful sort of look. It's clear the gigantic ex-C doesn't like the idea of being benched here amidst all this prep. "We'll see. Either way, first step is gonna be trackin' down Kai or Grey to get access to the guns or find out who all has them, and get them to start bringin' the ammo by one at a time so we can clear it."

"We may be stretched too thin for pouring hydrazine around the camp. Maybe after we deal with Sonia and her cronies and can focus on the larger force coming for us. Figure we'll have a little breathing room after that point. But after? Yeah, that is something we think over. Maybe even finding a section of hose, propping it up on the wall and using it like a flame thrower. Now that would be a helluva deterrant. Again, not enough time, got other stuff to do." And the vanishes under the floor, dropping into the sub-level.

Tink gives a smile, "I sew…well more leather working than sewing but it works…" Then gives Morgan a look like he's crazy to think that she wouldn't have any thread on her. She pulls out a small leather pouch that she's been using to collect the thread that she's been making, "Oh yeah…I make it myself." She gives him a big smile and holds it out for him to take, "From the clothes that get too bloody or worn for folks to use. Ihen you guys throw stuff out, I look to see if I can repurpose it." She pauses and adds, "I did boil it…so it's clean." She glances over where Cole left for a moment thoughtfully, "But…do me a favor and don't use all of my stash cause Cole might need some for wicks if he's trying to light something up."

"Pretty sure it's Kai that they have taking care of the guns," says Lark, kinda falling down into a kneel nearish Stone. She wasn't sure she wanted to touch the floor. Folding her arms over her knees, she flicks her eyes between the rest and Morgan, and Stone.

"Sure you'll be able to amble around? Looks like you were cut in the… throat?" she asks, sounding vaguely horrified as she talks to Stone.

"I sew too. I just wasn't carrying around a needle and thread when we were shipped down here." Morgan notes but looks excited by the prospect. "My original shirt is up in medbay somewhere on the floor. You can have it to take apart. I need…." Hmm. "Alcohol. We need to soak the needle and thread in it then let them dry. No, first boil them again then alcohol. Then we can sew you up." he tells Stone. "Gonna hurt like a bitch though. You'll want something to bite on."

There's the sound of metal clinking around down below them. And then…almost like a high pressure hisss. "Everyone don't fuckin move. DOn't even fuckin breathe right nowif you can help it." he calls out towards the hatch.

"Took an arrow full through it actually." Stone replies over-casually to Lark with a deathly sort of grin and an explanation for the rasp to his usual resonant deep voice. Morgan's talk of sewing earns another big grin, and in a little flash, the big ex-C is pulling free from somewhere unknown a little shiv-like shard of wood, holding it up for display. "This'll do, though I'll probably bite through it. Lark, you wanna go find K…" Stone's voice cuts off mid-syllable at Cole's warnin, eyes going a little big, but an admitted spark of excited curiosity flitting through the fear.

Tink was all smiles and chatty till Cole's voice floated up. She closes her mouth and then stops taking in breaths. She stands there tense, waiting to see if they blow up or not.

Lark glances towards Morgan as he calls for alcohol.

Lark clicks her tongue against the roof of her mouth, and snappoints a bit. "Yeah - I'm on it, and I'll go find Kai, while you get stitched up too," says Lark, standing up a bit. Lark was noticeably a bit on edge, as well, constantly making little glances towards the hatch leading down towards the tanks.

"It'll be fine," she tells Stone, "If it's not, we'll know it in a hurry," she says. No doubt they had a little bit of alcohol in here - Lark grabs a likely looking jar and takes a sniff, crinkling her nose then, and offering it to Morgan.

Morgan looks over to the hatch an idly takes what Lark hands him. "Well, bright side. If we blow up, we won't care afterwards."

There are few things in Cole's life that has made him this nervous, but the desire to keep the camp safe by handling very, /very/ touchy and hazardous material has made all too very much aware of his mortality. He's kneeled down in the sub-maintenance hatch, having found one of the fuel lines and searching for one the breaks in the line that allows one to siphon fuel off in case of emergencies. This isn't an exact science right now, and it's only been explained in theory. But the minutes are stretching by, with nothing coming from the hatch. But they also haven't blown up yet.

"Holy shit, I'm going to need to get laid after doing this." is finally what he says after what feels like an eternity.

"Amen brother!" Stone's quipping out with his gravelly voice loud enough to carry agreement to Cole's sentiment. Something that at least Lark might be surprised to hear from him, given usually the topic of sex (or much of any vulgarity other than murdering someone) tended to make the once-shy giant practically blush.

Tink is blushing and it's really annoying as the girl that still has her V-card. She bites her bottom lip and calls out, "So I take it we're not going to die?" To Cole who is downstairs and apparently looking to get laid. She turns back to Morgan and tells him, "Ummm…yeah…I got some stuff at my tent and I might have some parts that I can totally use in my project that I'm working on that is going to help us maybe survive. I don't know really but whatever it is I can totally going to get this done but I should probably go do that just in case what I'm actually trying to do works out." And she's babbling like an idiot cause people are talking about sex around her.

"I don't have enough. We're not done yet. Whatever you guys are doing, keep doing it. I need percise concentration on this right now." Cole calls back, still staring at the intermittent pour of the hydrazine. "Actually…Tink…Lark….I could use your help right about now. I need more hands to siphon this stuff off properly. Need one person to hold the container, and another to keep the fuel line steady while I control the rate of pour. We could still totally blow up here. We only got about half as much as we need for the mines."

"We're still breathing, unless this it the weirdest heaven I've ever heard of," says Lark to Tink, with a wryness. A little snort from her as she hears his comment. But she pauses a moment, glancing to Stone.

"He needs help with it. I'm gonna help him, then hit up Kai," she says, with the note of 'of course she is going to help him' in her tone. If he needs help with that, he /needs help/ right away.

So Lark moves to the ladder, and starts heading down it. "I got the fuel line, if you want to get the container, Tink?" says Lark to Tink.

Verrry carefully, Cameron climbs down from upstairs, where he was doing a thing. Probably resting. But now he's coming down, moving gingerly, and looking around. He's all dressed for war, with all his weapons and armor on— he sleeps in the stuff these days, which is less then comfortable— and is looking a little less like crap. He's got a little color to his features, though only a little. Upon hearing 'explode' he decides avidly NOT to interrupt and ask what's going on, and instead limp quietly over towards Morgan.

"Careful girls. It could just be attempt to get laid." Oh come on. He couldn't _not_ say that, even if saying it the poor injured Stone is trying not to laugh and bleed to death, thereby irritating Morgan.

Oh and Cam's got both his and Morgan's guns. Cuz. Someone has to hold onto them, and that can't be bad. And who knows when the next attack will come.

Morgan sniffs at what Lark gave him then judges the amount of alcohol in it. "I'll need more. Needs to soak our hands in it to make sure they're disinfected since we don't have soap. Tink, I'll need whatever thread you have that's the thickest. I'll need to use less if there's less chance of it snapping." He's not really paying much attention to the hatch now. If they blow up, he might know about it for 2 seconds before not caring any more.

Tink then stops with her silly stammering and then scrambles downstairs to help Cole with whatever he's doing that is oh so dangerous. She gets downstairs and there's a flush to her cheeks that she tries to play off like there's nothing going on.

Sweat. It's all sweat on Cole's face, staring that break in the line, trying to coax what he can. "Lark….don't move the container." he says eyeing the her just for a moment. "Something's wrong with with the line." he finally says, /carefully/ shutting off the valve with a cautious turn of his hand, causing the fuel to stop dripping out. "This line must've been damaged in landing. We're going to have to find another one. But…let's… wait on that for a little bit." Carefully he moves a little away, looking at the thick, large amount of pink fluid in the container that moves very slowly in Lark's hands. "Lark…just set the container down. Very. Slowly." And yeah, even he doesn't breathe at this particular moment.

It was unbalanced. The way the fluid came in, and her stance - she wasn't quite ready for it as well as she should of been. Blame it on the hike, or her general state of stress, perhaps. Eyes wide - she was suppressing a shiver as the line bucks and the fluid sloshes in the container, holding her breath, along with the world as the thing sways in her hands.

Down… down. She doesn't breathe.

She doesn't dare to.

Down, down… to lightly let the container rest upon the ground, drawing her hands away from it like… a bomb, really.

And only then does she breathe, taking two steps away from the thing. "I screwed up, I screwed up," she whispers, "Sorry, sorry sorry," she says, letting a shudder run through her afterwards of repressed feeling.

Left with nothing to do but lay there on his back trying not to bleed, Stone apparently is left with entirely too much time to let his mind wander and his long-stifled sense of humor to peek out. Cause as time ticks on again an no big boom ends all their troubles, he can't help but raspily call out. "Did you get laid yet, Cole?"

Tink was holding the fuel line while Cole was shutting it off. There's a look of pure horror when Lark almost blows them sky high and she's sweating as she moves back when Cole finally closes the line. That was close, way too close, "Holy shit, holy shit…fuck." Yep, there's that mometn post crisis when you just have to swear.

"Not your fault, Lark." Cole says, voice dangerously quiet, like the volumn might jsut make it explode. "That was a bad line. We didn't know it until I turned I opened it. We'll try again later. But when we're all….yeah." he looks at the container of bring pink fluid. "I need to. Holy shit…yeah, I need to take a small break before I start putting the bombs together. We'll find another fuel line, this one hopefully not damaged and we'll try again." Maybe he needs to repeat that himself. Apparently he's going to work down here the entire while. Not going to move /that/ much hydrazine, and even half of what he needs is /a lot/. "Once I get them packed, they should be a bit more stable to carry around."

Morgan is standing by Stone but now paying total attention to the hatch and what's being said. It sounds like they're not about to blow up? "If you ignite that stuff, does it just burn or explode?"

Cameron goes over and stands by Morgan, eyeing Cole and what they're doing a little warily. Not like, in disapproval, but like, that's dangerous. So he leans a shoulder briefly against Morgan's and murmurs, "Need anything? You've had a lot to do." That said, he eyes Stone a moment, tilting his head slightly, "How are you feeling? Extra holy? Arrows like you, Stone. Bad name."

From his stiff, unmoving floor position (having been told moving would possibly cause him to bleed out of the neck more), Stone wrinkles his nose up at Cameron's pun, though laughter is in his dark eyes and he seems to be taking this whole 'possibility of blowing up' thing pretty lightly. "That was worse than my earlier 'Sounds like a blast!' joke. You should be ashamed of yourself." Smirk tugging at his wide lips, he goes on more seriously to Cameron, as if they weren't having the conversation above a large scale explosion in the making. "I owe you for last night. Not as much as I owe the doc an' all, but still. Thanks, man."

"Yeah. I think I need…" Lark pauses a moment, drawing her hand through her hair again, letting another shiver run through her. "I think I need a break," she states. "I… that was possibly the most frightening thing that's happened to be here so far," she says.

Another beat, and she goes to the ladder, starting to climb the thing, perhaps moving with a bit more motion. "If you start again - let me know. I… promise to be on my A-game next time."

"I think…let's just take a small break for the moment, yeah? Until our hands stop shaking?" Because Cole is going to need stedy hands to put these bombs together. Especially since he's the one that's going to be handling this stuff and he's not going to carry it into the middle of nowhere just to build bombs. No, he has to do it here. And his hands are definately shaking. "That was about as bad as when I went out on my first EVA trip." And when Lark moves to leave, so does he, urging Tink to follow with them. When he get out of the sub-level, he looks pale, hands shaking. "Holy fuck. That was…" a glance to others in the level. "…closer than I want to admit to." Meaning to say they came super close to blowing themselves up.

Tink comes up from the hatch, following Cole and looking like she almost go her ass burned to hell. She can't stop hugging herself and looks at Cole, "That was at the gates close…let's not do that again, okay." She bites her bottom lip and there's that awkward silence before another, "Fuck!" She takes a deep breath and lets it out because man is she shaking like a leaf.

Morgan turns to look over at Cam and smile. "I was going to come find you actually. I want to go to the caves and get clean before we get attacked again. But Tink has a needle and thread and now I want you to help me sew him up if you think you can manage it. And then we can go to the caves and get clean."

Stone blinks a little at that admittance of near death from Cole, murmuring a slightly grim-toned. "I think I preferred the 'getting laid' version to hearing that. So… you have to go back and do that again?" If he weren't so dark-skinned, he'd probably have looked a little pale at that revelation. A little shudder goes through the big soldier and he's grumbling in the gravelly tone. "Yeah…I think we should use the opportunity to see how that needle works. I mean, not sayin' it'd be better to be _not_ in the ground zero of the big bang, but…well, yeah."

"Sorry, bud. That 'shame' thing people talk about from time to time has never been anything I could figure out how to feel. Not a drop." Cameron grins, but then waves a hand, gesture friendly but dismissive, "Nah, don't worry about it. We're in this together. You stood on the wall to defend us, least I could do is try to keep you from bleeding out before Morgan could get to you." Then he nods quickly to Morgan, smiling and reaching out to give Morgan's hand a quick squeeze, "Sounds like a plan. Whatever you need. I'm well enough to return the helping favor enough." He eyes the mechanics again a bit warily. Plus maybe they won't get blown up when they try again.

"Well…" says Lark, kinda… leaning against a bulkhead. "If it's between that and getting killed by a caveman spear…" she says. "Give me the flash death. And this stuff will help stop us from dying to spears and Grounder business. But… it's still…" Lark gives the others a wry grin.

"…not how I wanted to spend my afternoon?"

"But yeah, we gotta do it again. Didn't get enough. Might need a better line."

"We only got half the amount of hydrazine we need to make the mines." Cole says, walking over to sit on a nearby bench. "We're going to have to get more out of the fuel tanks. But, I can work on at least…six mines for now. I want to be able to make twelve. That'll give us even distribution through the perimeter of the camp." A nod goes over to Lark, whole he looks at his hands, which are still shaking, clenching them, then extending them again to get teh shakes out. "That was a bad line. I think it might've been damaged in landing. Hopefully the next one won't be so…problematic.

"Did you figure out a way to make it stable enough for us to make grenades?" Tink asks Cole cause her project requires that they can use pressurized gas to launch that at the enemy, "Or do you think it's too unstable." Cause at that point it makes all her ideas for lobbing grenades useless. She looks back downstairs and it's clear that Tink doesn't think her mad science project is a good idea anymore.

"Basically, I'll want you to hold the edges of his wound against each other while I sew them together." Morgan tells Cam. "Simple." Yet gory and painful. Much like the bedamned planet.

"It might be too unstable, Tink." Cole looks over at the other tech. "Say we made grenades. They're volitile, what would happen if someone happened to drop one by accident? Or made a bad throw? WE'd be killing ourselves." He frowns at that. "I feel like we're losing out on an opportunity. What you could do though. All those bullets we got that may be duds? We may still be able to use the gunpower in them. If you want to go through see which bullets we can't use and then build more…classic style grenades out of /those/? You could probably still do that." He stands then, rubbing his hands over his face. "I need to go get some air. And some water. Calm down a bit before I get to work."

For his part, Stone shakes himself out of distraction of watching the techs talk about killing them all (without actually shaking since moving neck is teh bad). With Cameron and Morgan getting ready to do their thing with the fun pain and such, the big ex-C brings up that wooden shiv he pulled from somewhere, lifting it towards his lips and before biting down on it, quipping to Lark. "Wish us all good luck. Hopefully the fun manly grunting and trying not to scream part will be over by time you get back with some bullets for us to go through."

"No problem." Cameron is calm and collected about the prospect of doing what Morgan needs with holding the wound. Gory and painful and gross? Sure whatever. Cam's the guy for you. So he nods quickly to Morgan, and heads for some water to wash his hands. As best as possible, but its something. "Hey I didn't realize there was fun manly grunting involved. Shoulda said so earlier, I would have come downstairs quicker."

"If I hear crying like a baby from inside the dropship, I'll just assume it's like… the metal settling or something," she says. "Do you want my belt to bite down on instead of wood? That's gotta suck if you get splinters," says Lark then, glancing towards Morgan and Cameron then - trying to get a sense of their… confidence in the procedure.

Tink sees what's about to happen and it's a little too much for the already shaken techie. She makes a little sound in the back of her throat, "I'm going to go…do what Cole told me to do and check the ammo. And hey, there's no ammo here so I'm just going to exit and see you guys later." She starts to head out of the drop ship but does pause to say, "If you need more thread…let me know. I'll figure something out." And then she's outta there.

"Glad to see you're so enthusiastic, Stone." Morgan tells him. "But we're not ready yet. Gotta get the stuff from Tink, boil them, disinfect in alcohol then let them dry. Then we can torture you. And there'll be plenty of that at the caves, Cam. As if we're going just for the bathing."

"Nah, I'd rather ruin a five minute shiv, than bit a hole in your belt. Thanks though." Stone casts a wry grin to Lark after rolling eyes a bit at Cameron's play on his words. The doc's revelation that it's not coming up immediately brings a sigh that turns to a closed eye minimalistic head shake at the 'caves' part. "Bah, I thought we were doing this thing. I think she just took off shell-shocked looking for ammo, so I guess go get that organized. Lark, may as well start the process with the bullets and go tap Kai for access, even if I'm holding them over my face on the ground to check one at a time. Probably should let Tink know we're going through things too so we aren't duplicating work."

"Promises, promises." Cameron turns a wicked grin at Morgan, then more serious he nods as Morgan lays out the plans, and turns a look to Stone, and talk about preparing ammo and stuff. He just nods his head. Stuff about guns and preparation for war? The cool headed botanist has no real input. So, to Morgan he glances around, "So I should get some water boiling then?"

"She's got some kinda bomb catapult she's thinking of building. It actually sounds pretty useful. Whether or not we make hydrazine rounds to go with it…" Lark shrugs her shoulder.

"One step at a time. And I think I lost a few years of my life," she says. "Not that I'll live long enough to spend them," she says.

"She has to go through Kai to get the ammo, I'll leave a note with Kai then. Anyways. Steady hands, boys," says Lark, giving the two med persons (or botantist and medtech), a salute, before heading towards the exist.

Morgan nods to Cam. "Yeah, I want to make sure there's no chance of infection. This thread isn't made for people but it's the best we've got. "We should be ready to go in an hour or so. Thread dries quickly. Why don't you try to get some sleep." he suggests to Stone. "You'll handle it better if you're not exhausted."

"Fine fine. As long as I'm not wakin' up to you two makin' out over me." Stone quips back. Jealous much? Who knows. Either way, he's waving to Lark idly. "Bounce me up in 30 if you manage to score some bullets." And with that, the big guy's closing eyes, and with a surprising ease, slipping off into unconsciousness. Either he's exausted and hiding it semi-well, or he just feels safe here with the various criminals and miscreants of camp.

Lark leaves, heading towards the Grounds [OUT].

"Why not? You might learn something. Sleep and have a dream and we'll wake you when the medical torture begins." remarks Cameron with a grin for the poor holy guy, again showing: not an ounce of shame in him. Then he nods to Morgan, "It's better then nothing, at least."

"We don't put on free shows." Morgan answers. "Join in or get the fuck out. Now sleep or I'll stab you an extra dozen times and blame you for using up all of Tink's thread." He's stripped to the waist and covered in dried blood from the day before. "Why don't you put the gun in the corner, Cam. I'll keep an eye on them now."

It's the morning after the battle that tore down the wall of the Delinquent camp. Four are dead from the Blood Fever used by the Grounders as biological warfare, although surprisingly and fortunately, none were claimed by their actual attack. With the sickness passed, the Dropship is now being used to treat the wounded, and though efforts have begun to sterilise it, the air still reeks of dried blood and bile. At the moment, three at least are alive and awake, a shirtless bloody Morgan, shirtless Mummy-impersonating Stone, and a shameless (shirtless too?) Cameron.

Cameron eyes the gun a moment, then nods to Morgan and heads over to deposit the rifle there. His personal pistol gets stuck in his belt; that baby is not going out of his reach ever. He cocks a thumb over to Morgan and flashes a quick grin at Stone, "He's a little shy." is explained. His voice is lightly teasing, that teasing for Morgan a moment, before he gets serious and pads back over. "What are you going to use for a needle?"

NOTE: I logged out at this point, so there's probably more after someone else could add

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