Day 008: The Brawl With It All
Summary: Those returning from searching for the Ark escape pod have several disagreements. Punches are thrown. Mud is wrestled in. Dirty words are screamed.
Date: 12 May 2016
Related: Follows Partius Interruptus and To Be Determined. Runs concurrent with To Be Determined.
Cassandra Martin Grey Asher Quinn Max Silas Silver Cole Fiona 

The Grounds, The Camp

With the removal of underbrush and a half-dozen small trees, there is now a tiny clearing around the dropship. It has begun to fill with detritus from the ship, including all of the seating, padding, and removable plates or bulkheads.

Several tents have been set up within the clearing, set close together within the confines of the surrounding trees. A small collection of weapons sits under a parachute-cloth shelter by the door of dropship, open for community use. A three-holer latrine is set up downwind of camp in the prevailing breezes, and the rough beginnings of a wall stretch between trees at the edge of the clearing, dropship plates and felled tree-trunks being stacked up as quickly as the Delinquents can manage.

The forest immediately surrounding the camp has been cowed into near-silence, but is still vibrant and green to a people used to stark metal bulkheads all around them.

8 Days After Landing

<FS3> Cassandra rolls Survival: Great Success.

In what seems to be becoming a rather suspicious pattern, Cass Bonheur is once again the first one back from the expedition that set out into the woods mid-feast. She isn't injured, either, nor does she look to be in a worse state than when she left, though none of the Delinquents by this point look perfectly polished. She has dried blood on her shirt from a couple days back and mud on her boots. Seeing an opportunity and never one to pass it up, she makes her rounds by the Cook Tent, grabbing herself a second helping of meat while the others are out fussing over whatever object just fell from the sky.

Mimi is one of the few that stayed behind, probably looking the closest to perfectly polished since she doesn't go out searching or scouting much. While everyone's been gone she's created a large demographic with pie charts and flow charts with advanced 5-dimensional math in the dirt with a stick over about half the camp, they seem to be numbers that define different points around the dropship. "Put the duct tape back carefully if you expect to eat for the next two days. It is not for wasting with foolish matters," is said with a cool delivery towards the children as Mimi makes another set of numbers on the ground.

Cassandra slows her stroll as she passes Mimi by, eyeing her flow-charts and pie-charts and whatever else it is she's doing over there with the appropriate amount of suspicion. "You know, the only thing that terrifies me more than Grounders is math," she tells the girl, before taking another bite of sweet, succulent pork flesh off her stick of second helpings. The woman has never tasted boar before today, and closes her eyes to luxuriate in the complexity of those flavours. Cookie's done a good job, as have the hunting parties.

Mimi eyes Cassandra. "Then you should be terrified of me as I think and function in 5-dimensional math. 5 anchor points give a more accurate representation of physical presence. I have to concentrate to bring down function so that others can understand the mathematics I present." She draws a circle. "I estimate that the item given estimated velocity, speed, and re-entry vector will hit here if preventitive methods are not used. If they are used;" she draws another circle. "I estimate it will land here given best case scenario. I also count that as your second helping of meat Ms. Bonheur."

Max comes wandering back into camp after having drifted out sometime earlier during the party, having missed whatever all went on while he was gone, somehow. He makes his way, finally, over toward the food and goes to get some, hunger perhaps having drawn him back in more than the revelry. With a bit of meat and a small handful of berries, he looks around until he can find himself a place to sit off out of the way to start consuming his meal.

"Dear lord. She's a female Cole." Ms. Bonheur finds Max nearby and gives him a meaningful look at this comment. "Didn't he just break up with Princess What's-Her-Face? Better hide Ark-Traitor here. We'll never get this wall finished if he rebounds too quickly." Oh yes, Cassandra has heard about the reason for Mimi's incarceration, apparently, even if she knows little else about the local math geeks. Traitors always stir a scandal in the Skybox. The comment on her having taken a second helping doesn't faze her. She slowly, deliberately takes another luxuriant bite and gives plenty of time to enjoy before speaking again. "I made a deal with Cookie. I help track the pig, I get two helpings. Otherwise you'd all be eating rabbits." This is a lie, of course, though she tells it well. While it's true she was out with a hunting group earlier, she wasn't among those to successfully bring home the bacon, and it's doubtful Cookie would make such an agreement.

Mimi taps the 2nd circle a few times thoughtfully. "I believe that the chance that you are being truthful in your statement is an estimated twenty two percent. As far as romantic interests lay I believe that is not your concern. I am more interested in making certain we are well stocked and secure than to make amour. As for the questionable meat portion - Would it be wise to assume that you would assault me if I were to take your meaty-bits away?" Seems she's heard something of the other girl as well.

"Not enough fucks," Max comments in retort to Cassandra's dubbing Mimi a female version of Cole. He glances between the two for a moment and continues to eat his own helping of meat, taking his time about it and glancing at some of the scratching and markings on the ground. It may as well be written in whatever gibberish the Grounders speak from what he can glean from it, but it's interesting, anyway, even if he has no idea what it says. He moves one booted foot over to examine the ground, and then puts it back. His attention flicks from Cassandra to Mimi and back again throughout the exchange, eyebrow lofted slightly, but otherwise reserving further comment.

The girl with the dubious pork kebab at her lips pauses to consider Mimi's latest mathematical equation, one pertaining to the possibility of suffering bodily harm at her presently semi-occupied hands. She's pretty scrawny, so she really could use this second helping of meat from the feast; but she does have a machete at her hip which she claimed from a Grounder she killed, so who is she to dispute this possibility? "Yep," Cassandra answers the mathematician, in the most casually delivered threat imaginable. Max's assessment is wise, and she nods her head to concede the point.

Since the brutally painful surgery session, Asher has remained in his tent for the most part. He hasn't come out to eat or anything else really. Odds are, no one's going to spend a ton of time coming in to check on the surly young man either. So this is likely the first time anyone's really going to have seen Asher since Morgan worked on his leg. He is using his spear as a walking stick, though he's still moving with a definite limp. Despite the fact that he's not really in fighting condition, he's still got his axe strapped to his belt, and his sword across his back, armed to the teeth as if he were going anywhere other than the fire to sit down again.

Mimi quirks a brow. "Always the colorful banter Mr. Loden." She looks over to Cassandra "I find that avenue the most likely course of action." Pointing at the part that Max is looking at, "This is the point of landing that I am expecting that the object will take. It is likely from the Ark." She pauses a moment then looks over to Cassandra. "If you are going to assault me I would prefer you do it at this time so that we can get this out of the way. If you do not wish to do so that will do as well."

Cassandra, for one, has not paid a visit to Asher's tent. Maybe she's really scared of him like everyone else, maybe she doesn't care enough, or maybe she doesn't want to add more fodder to the rumour fire of her having 'borrowed his spear'. That wasn't even a euphemism! It literally happened! But you try telling that to giggling teenagers; Cass 'Boner' knows all about about how quickly these stories spread, and so her reasons are likely a combination of all of the above. She looks at him now when he approaches what's left of the shindig, but as usual, looks away without smile. "You haven't given me reason to assault you," she tells Mimi, just as the sound of a stampede moving through the forest back towards camp starts to approach. Grinning, she leans forward and adds, "Won't have a reason if you promise to keep your equations about how much I may or may not have eaten to yourself."

From the eastern side of the camp, there is quite an urgent approach of several delinquents carrying a makeshift stretcher of wood and parachute cloth with a woman lying across it. She is dressed in an Ark zero-g suit, but it is bloodstained. Some of the med kids are moving quickly after or beside the stretcher, making a beeline for the dropship.

Cameron is ashen; it almost looks like he's taken a serious wound and lost vital blood. At the same time, his entire body screams at tension, with every muscle tensed so hard it has to be agonizing. He moves without his usual grace, in a way that's almost robotic, and his face is wet and eyes are a little bloodshot. But he's not freaking out. Or he's freaking out in a very special way. He's helping carry the stretcher his eyes able to flick between the ground and his Mom, but… That's it. Anything else going on upstairs is just sorta not registering.

"WHO THE FUCK TOOK IT." That is the mating of Cole, being one of the last to storm back at the camp, beelining at the nearest group. His tire iron is out. "WHO. THE FUCK. TOOK. IT." he bites out the words. He's looking for something in particular. Something tech-related that he did not see taken. And the mechanic is absolutely furious. "I want to know right fuckin now who took the goddamn radio, right fuckin now. I can't get the goddamn telemetry data without the goddamn communications unit so I can figure out why the hell the goddamn pod crashed in the first place. Now, I want that goddamn radio."

Layla is a part of that group heading for the dropship. She's keeping pace, but isn't doing much beyond that. Which is to say she isn't talking, or helping carry the stretcher holding the injured woman. A bit like a bird circling a much larger animal.

Max, sitting on the ground poking at Mimi's drawings with his boot while he finally eats his meat, having returned to camp to have missed the entire to-do, looks up when there is sudden commotion from the eastern side of the camp. His eyes track over in that direction to see the stretcher coming through and pauses with the slice halfway to his mouth. Then there's Cole, and he looks over toward Cassandra and says, "Definitely not enough fucks." That must have been from some previous conversation.

Quinn's not moving fast, or with a purpose. But she is moving with the group. When Cole starts screaming she glances over at him, a brow lifting, but she doesn't offer up the answer to his yelling, instead she starts to move towards the fire to find herself a place to sit. Apparently she's done with herding cats, and being snapped at for the day.

Devin and Niner are carrying the makeshift stretcher that carries Lydia on it. He is quiet and moves at the pace Niner and the others set, his attention focused on getting the woman into the medbay.

Gossip among teenagers spreads like wildfire, and when Cookie hears the news, she moves like someone lit a blowtorch beneath her ass. Wide-eyed and heart pounding like a panicked deer, she's rushing towards the "ambulance" team, anxious and fretful as she takes in the battered sight of her Aunt Lydia. Fingers cover her mouth, as if that will somehow contain the gasp and onset of tears. It takes a moment, but then that furrowed gaze is alighting on Cameron, and she's reaching for his free hand, to walk with him as he carries the stretcher.

Morgan isn't listening much to Cole. He's hurrying alongside the stretcher, keeping an eye on Cam's mom and resting a finger on her neck to keep track of her pulse. Cause if it suddenly drops, they need to stop and set her down damn quick. What he'd do then, he has no idea but it's not listening to Cole.

The sound of Cole yelling and screaming is just the sort of nonsense that Asher really could not give enough fucks about. Too bad Max stole that line. Well done Max. Asher, for his part, moves over towards Max and Cassandra at a slow pace, still using his spear as a crutch, "Calm the fuck down. No one took your fuckin' radio." He eyes the stretcher as it moves, brow raised. He hmmms quietly and looks to Cassandra, "You got somethin' of mine still, don'cha?"

Cameron glances aside at Cookie briefly, and his eyes show some vague sign of recognition, but his hand is limp. That said, he doesn't pull away either. "The Ark is dying," he says, sounding distant… Yet there's this muscle in his neck which starts twitching, twitching, trembling from tension that wants to break through. "Mom brought me a radio so we can save them." He glances aside to Cookie slightly. Apparently he's telling her. A tear escapes an eye, and he the arm that's not carrying the stretcher spasms. But, on they go.

Were Asher to care that Cassandra doesn't, it may be some small comfort to him that it clearly isn't personal, as she doesn't care about the hubbub arriving from the forest right now. She glances aside, notes the stretcher, gives Cole a vague, 'wasn't me' expression at his string-of-fucks, then glances right back to Max and Mimi without so much as an elevated eyebrow. She did have the advantage of having already known what's going down, of course, but that's not something she's deigned to tell anyone. With all the commotion going on, she doesn't even have to worry any more that someone else might notice she's on her second helping, since there are bigger fish to fry. She just loves being a little fish, and so while the others fuss, she turns to flash Asher a grin. "Yeah, fair enough. But you should have been up earlier if you wanted to snag some of the bacon while it was still hot," she contends, and takes another, taunting bite of her kebab.

"Fuckin' radio." Quinn mutters beneath her breath with a roll of her eyes before she spots Max, and then she heads in his direction. She's moving a lot better than she was when they got rescued, but she's still not moving at full speed. Which would easily give him time to run away.

"Fine, nobody took the goddamn thing. I guess we're all just fuckin saints, huh." Cole waves a hand. "Doing it for Cam's sake, since he'd probably want to know what happened how it fuckin happened. Because maybe that'd be relevant. But what the fuck ever. Some selfish dickless shitbox decided that taking the goddamn radio because they're so goddamn afraid of the big bad Ark coming down. So whoever it was: fuck you. And thanks." He's not going to get any answers, so he just storms off, a litany of swears going along with him.

It's about then that he sees Cameron and the expression on his face, and takes a longer look at the woman on the stretcher as they approach. Whatever other smart-ass comments he might have to make about anything seem to die on his lips. Instead, there's a flicker of concern as he watches Cameron and the others. Whatever he was eating gets set down as he just watches and stays out of the way. When he sees Quinn approaching, he doesn't get up and run, even with her slow pace. He just waits where he is as she comes over.

Cameron's hand may be limp, but Cookie's is as solid and comforting as it can be while mindful of her cousin's recovering injury. Gently, she squeezes, rapidly blinking away tears and she processes what he's told her, suddenly feeling as though she were walking through molasses. Aunt Lydia is here and in terrible shape, and her remaining loved one aboard the Ark are at risk. There's really nothing she can do other than try to be a supportive presence during this family crisis. She'd probably ask more about the radio, but others may overhear, so she remains quiet for now and gives another gentle squeeze.

With a roll of his eyes at Cole, Asher takes a stagger step towards Cassandra and holds out the hand he doesn't use to hold his spear. Which Cassandra borrowed. "The knife," he states flatly, a smirk playing at the barest edges of his features. "I don't give a fuck about the bacon right now." Because honestly, food sounds awful at the moment. He has some stashed rations somewhere more than likely. He's still trying to fight the nausea that came with the infection his body is fighting off.

"Morgan has the radio," Quinn offers to Cole, but only after everyone hustles into the dropship. She then comes to a halt next to Max, glancing back towards the dropship without saying anything else for a moment. "It's Cameron's mom, she's coughing up blood. Morgan and Cameron tried to conceal the radio, claimed something about not wanting someone to just radio the Ark. But after talking with Cameron earlier, he thinks we can form our own government and absorb parts of the Ark… Turn them against the Council. So to ''me''… Cameron is more likely to call the Ark down than keep others from it… not that I want them down… but it should be everyone's choice."

Well, suit yourself, Asher. Cassandra finishes that bacon and, in years to come (assuming she doesn't die), will not recall having had a single regret about it. As strange as it is to eat the animals that populate this planet, hunger and a lifetime of Ark rations have quickly dispelled any concerns she may have had on the matter, and she soon discards the serving stick onto the ground. Reaching into her Grounder-made bag once her hands are free, she indeed retrieves that extremely sharp knife she was supposed to bring back earlier. "What will you give me in exchange?" she curiously wonders, taking a step back and trying to hold it out of reach. Because while he's pretty terrifying, she's banking on the fact he's currently relying on his spear for a walking stick to even the odds.

"Then they can fuckin fight over. He wants to know how the goddamn thing crashed, he can fuckin get the goddamn thing back. I have other fuckin ways of finding that shit out." Cole calls over his shoulders, likely marching back to his tent.

Eyeing Cole with a raised brow, Asher sighs and shakes his head. "That kid has some serious fuckin aggression issues." Which is saying something, all things considered, given that Asher has lately been regarded as a killer without any sense of remorse. He watches Cassandra eat the bacon with a mildly bemused look and then glances to Quinn, frowning just a bit. "They have guns. We ain't controllin shit when they come down." And killers like Asher will be as good as dead. Returning his gaze to Cassandra, Asher settles his standard cold gaze on her, a long pause following and finally he offers, "What exactly did you have in mind?" He doesn't make a move towards her just yet. He does need that spear after all to balance himself.

Max looks between Quinn and Cole for a moment and then back toward the dropship. It makes sense, the ashen look, that it would be Cameron's mother. "She came down.. from the Ark?" He doesn't really mean to ask it as a question to be answered. He knows that's what must have happened, but since no one so much as mentioned what was going on since he'd gotten back save for the doodles of trajectories, he seems largely lost as to what happened. He nods then when Quinn talks about the governmental idea that Cameron had. He finishes off the bit of meat he had been eating and begins to pop the berries into his mouth, one after the other as he listens to the conversation and tries to get caught up on what's going on.

"Nope, we'll be thrown back into a box, or just killed… plus, like I pointed out, people are so indoctrinated to believe everything the Council says that they aren't likely to turn on them. A few? Maybe… but not enough." Quinn shrugs faintly at Asher. "But there's people that want the Ark brought down, you know… with their technology and their families…" The tone? Well, clearly she doesn't need technology or family. "Yeah, crashed, really. Not sure what the story is yet… if we ever find out."

Though Cassandra takes a moment to listen in on the chit-chat surrounding that stretcher, she remains unconcerned, and now she explains why, to Quinn. "We'll find out when Cameron's mummy wakes up," she said. While she left with the others to check out that crash-site, she wasn't one to linger once she figured out the basics of what happened, being so unsentimental. And hungry. Turning back to Asher, she says, "How come you haven't turned Steak and New Boots into steak and new boots yet?"

"Cam's convinced that once we're on the ground that they'll realize they need people rather than resources, and that we'll be too valuable to kill. Not too valuable to be turned into slave labor though, I'd wager, even if it won't be called that. We were sent because we were expendable. Just because we served a purpose doesn't mean they won't want to re-purpose us once they get down here," Max says with a shrug. "I like Cam's idealism but.. I dunno how realistic it is."

"Really un-fucking-realisitic," Asher replies with a stern look towards Max. He looks to Quinn, nodding in agreement. "Personally, when they show up, I'm moving somewhere else. I killed a guard. The guard gets a chance to kill me with no rules, they're gonna take it." A beat pause, "And like I said, they got the guns." Returning his attention to Cassandra, Asher shrugs, "Maybe I like ponies," he states flatly. "Or maybe I'm saving it for a rainy day." One more beat pause, "Or maybe cuz I'm not actually as dumb as I look and I figure having a horse is useful to me." He eyes her a moment. "So that answer is what you wanted in exchange for my knife?"

"I don't plan to still be here when they hit the ground…" Quinn replies, glancing towards Max when she says that, a brow lifting upwards momentarily. Then she smirks a little towards Cassandra, "Yes, if she wakes up. She was coughing up blood… not sure how likely she is to survive down here with that."

"I'm not disagreeing with you," Max points out to Asher with a slight shrug of his shoulders, the look returned steadily for a moment, then he's offering up some of his handful of berries to Quinn to see if she wants any. He nods in agreement with her. They've had that conversation before. "Yeah."

"I'm full up on steak," says Cassandra, who is experiencing the sensation of fullness for maybe the first time in her life. She wipes the side of her thumb at the corner of her mouth and glances aside at Max and Quinn, a sad little eyebrow-shrug and her silence on that topic all she offers by way of agreement. One can almost hear her playing the world's smallest violin for poor Lydia. "Don't need new boots." And as if she needed time to consider this and hadn't already been building up to this, pauses and quiets before seemingly conceding, "I wouldn't mind a pony. Just to borrow. Once in a while."

A nod of appreciation is given to Quinn by Asher. He may not really know her, but apparently he shares her views on the Ark. "Damn right," he offers with a nod. Asher eyes her a moment longer. "At least a few people still make sense," he states flatly. Obviously those with family want them to come down here, but who can forget how they were treated and why they were sent here? Idiots, that's who. Asher nods to Max as well. "Yeah man, you got the right idea." Finally he looks back to Cassandra, brow raised a bit. "You want to borrow my horse?" His horse. He tamed it. It belongs to him. "In exchange for giving me back my own knife?" He raises a brow, watching her intently now, cold gaze still focused.

Quinn glances over at Cassandra, a brow raising a bit, "You missed the classes on trade and barter didn't you?" She wonders, then takes some of the berries being offered by Max. She offers him the very smallest of smiles, but then she shakes her head. "Ask for something you want that he wont want back… otherwise it's an endless cycle of this, right here."

"Pretty sure that's not how that works," Max says to Cassandra with a bit of a smirk. He waits while Quinn takes what she wants from the berries in his hand and then he pops the remainder of them into his mouth, savoring the taste of them for a little bit. Then he wipes his hands off on his pants and pushes himself up to his feet. He toes a bit at the drawings Mimi had scratched into the dirt with his boot again and shakes his head. Math. Lots of math.

Well, when he puts it that way, it really doesn't make much sense. Cassandra is nothing if not rational, and so in the face of such indisputable reason backed up by Quinn and Max, she offers the pair a hapless, cheeky grin and simply hands the man back his own damn knife — blade first. "Worth a shot," she claims, turning back to Asher. "Really, I just wanted to make you to come looking for it."

Martin has been around for the whole celebration. Honest! He just has been sitting on the sidelines mostly. Getting attacked by a panther really took it out of him. However, one can only by a wallflower for so long and he ventures towards the group in an attempt to be a little sociable. When he sees Cassandra give the knife back he simply smirks. He wants to say something. It's definitely there, but he holds his tongue for now.

Grey comes back out of the darkness with a half dozen other Delinquents, looking frustrated. Grey starts to tell them off to get back to whatever they were doing, snarling to himself, "Stupid damned Earth." He spots Quinn in a knot of people and heads in the direction, "Q! Your group have any luck? We found a damned cliff, but nothing from orbit."

Asher, the great negotiator, having survived the attempted pony extortion scheme of Day 8, just eyes Cassandra and then his knife, being offered back to him blade first. "Can't make anything easy, can you?" He arches a brow and takes a hold of the knife blade. He doesn't squeeze it enough to cut himself, which means he doesn't pull it out of her hand just yet. "If you wanted a chase, you should have waited till my leg was healed…" Or she wanted to point and laugh at him hobbling around. Either way. The sound of Grey's voice draws his attention, and Asher looks in his direction, giving him a chin jut of a nod. Which is basically the friendliest greeting Asher gives anyone.

"Yeah, lots of luck." Quinn replies, tilting her chin in the direction of the dropship, "Escape pod, crashed, Cameron's mom…my opinion is she's dying, but I'm no doctor." She tosses another one of the berries into her mouth, chewing on it thoughtfully, "Morgan has the radio that probably will call the Ark down…he wants to destroy it, I think. But Cameron and his bullshit…?" She leaves it at that. Grey was there for the conversation that morning, he knows. "Fuckers bit my head off when I asked what they were hiding, and pointed out that hiding it took control out of the hands of the group. Which is supposedly Cameron's fucking mantra…So I figure that he was hiding it to call the Ark down and shit. And Morgan covered for him…I wanted Devin to take the radio, but Morgan has it."

Max missed the entire shebang, having wandered off at some point before it all happened, so he just listens for a bit as they start going over what happened again, hands sliding into his pockets as he takes a step away from Quinn, kicking a bit at some of the math equations in the dirt, and then gradually easing off from the conversation entirely.

Because Cassandra isn't too cruel (just a little cruel, really), she doesn't do anything with that knife that could possibly injure Asher when he reclaims it. Besides, he's probably more likely to help her stay alive in future if he still has his hands. After she relinquishes the hilt, she brings her own to rest on her Grounder-made bag, then turns towards the others. "I would have," she tells him aside. "You didn't." Quinn's assessment of the state of Cameron's mother earns an agreeable nod from her. "So, how do we get it back?"

Grey nods to Asher in response to the greeting, blinking at Quinn's report, "Cam's mom…" his eyes grow wider, "Radio? Morgan has the radio?" He's already turning toward the dropship by the words 'destroy it.' Apparently, some things are more important than small talk. "Hell. No." He looks around, holding up the bracelet on his left wrist, and raising his voice, "Who here has family on the Ark? Or thinks we need the Ark to survive? Or wants some blankets? Or something besides sticks and stones? If that's you, then I think it's time we told those jackholes in there that a radio ain't something they can keep to themselves! And it's damned sure not something we should destroy!"

Quinn reaches out to try and catch Max before he can wander off too far, "If you want it back? It's not going to be hard. Cameron'll want to call the Ark…he'll be on your side. Just give me warning when you do so I can pack my shit and get out of here."

Max's sleeve is caught as he wanders the equations on the ground, only making it a step or two before he is tugged, and he pauses, looking over at Quinn, and then at Grey. He's said an awful lot more in the past week than he's said in years in the Box. But it seems for the moment he's returned to his more characteristic silence. He doesn't keep moving though, remaining where he is. Brows lift a bit at Grey's rallying cry. Unfortunately, it doesn't like it's having any particular effect on Max. Instead, he just nods in agreement with Quinn slightly.

"You ever met my dad, you wouldn't want his lazy ass down here either." Asher states flatly at Grey. "I don't want a fucking thing from those pricks, Grey. You use that radio to help them? You ain't any better than they are anymore." He slips the knife under the cord of braided wires he wears around his wrist, mostly just to hold a knife in place. "Personally, I say drop the fuckin' thing in the river." He turns away from Cassandra since she's moved on from their pithy banter.

Cassandra agrees with absolutely nothing that Grey's just said. "Hear hear!" she calls out, answering his rally-cry agreeably. That doesn't mean she's going to budge from where she stands, though, as she looks perfectly comfortable with her hands idly resting on her bag, but she's evidently happy to encourage his mission without lifting a finger.

Martin raises an eyebrow at the discussion of the radio. He decides to chime in with a more objective stance, "The radio is more than just a way to communicate with the Ark. Aren't we trying to figure out how to use the bracelets to communicate with the radio. It's a tool we can use to help ourselves, not just as a means of communicating with the Ark." He then glances at Cassandra shouting support.

"The radio isn't being fucking destroyed!" Yells Silas who comes stepping out of the Dropship. Just a glance and it could've been obvious he has done a bit of weeping recently, sniffling somewhat as his brows furrow and he makes his way out and towards Grey and the others. "They've already been told that we're down here and alive." he say as he closes the distance, his right brow rising as he wears a lopsided frown on his expression. "Yelling like a jackass," he says with a glance towards Grey, "And having a shit opinion on the matter," he says with a glance to Asher, "Isn't going to fucking help anyone. As it stands, no where near half of us know what we're doing or how we're going to survive- without them and their supplies to carve our way towards Mount Weather, we're most likely going to freeze by the time fall or winter comes if the grounders don't dissect us before then." he adds, his hands coming over to plant on his hips. "So can we finally sit down and talk about how we're going to fucking survive? The majority of us?" he asks- though it's partially growled and through bared teeth as his eyes flit on everyone present as if they just pissed on his lawn gnomes and teepee'd his house.

Grey starts to turn around to the Ark again, then blinks at Quinn's response, an almost comical look of betrayal flashing across his face, "Get out?" He looks from fellow ex-C to dropship and back, "You don't want get the…" He throws up his hands, sighing heavily, "Fine. I'll look out for the damned One Hundred myself." Asher's cold response hardens his features even further, his hands tightening into fists, "You're crazy as Morgan and Devin if you think we can survive out here on our own, Asher. If we don't have something to offer the Grounders, and we don't, then they're not going to talk to us." Silas' arrival draws his baleful gaze around on him, although it fades slightly as much of what the man said follows his own thinking, "Good. Then they're not totally crazy. But do you really want Morgan talking to the Ark? He wants to kill everyone up there, so far as I can tell. Unless there's someone with half a brain in there, and someone who doesn't have a total mad-on for them, then we're as good as dead." Even without the posse he expected, Grey starts to turn and walk toward the dropship ramp.

"No!" Quinn snaps back at Silas, "You took that out of everyone's hands the minute you all decided to call the Ark as a /minority/. You're just as bad as the fucking Council! You just sacrificed the many for the one!" She tightens her holds on Max's sleeve, anger and disappointment starting to surface in her expression before she lets go of Max, stalking in the direction of the dropship, "You can't talk about this after the fact…we wont have a voice when they arrive. I don't want to be part of them, the Ark. I don't want to be back in a fucking box again…but you don't care what others want…that some of us might have had fucking opinions on how to handle this. You all just went and cried to the FUCKING COUNCIL!"

Silver is just making her way down the ramp from the ship, pausing at the doorway as she hears shouting and sees some sort of confrontation in progress. One that's…going to pass right by her. Crap. Going back into the ship just looks weird, but moving toward the fight is definitely not her usual method. So instead, she stands awkwardly to one side of the ramp. "Wait, what?" she blinks, looking to Silas. "You got the comms working?"

<FS3> Silas rolls Resolve-2: Failure.

Asher holds up his wrist at Martin, showing his lack of bracelet, "I had that fuckin' thing taken off on day 1. Far as they know, I'm dead. That's how I plan on keeping it." He pauses, eyeing Grey, "You think we're all gonna live through them comin' down here? What happens when they come down here and take everything we got? How about when they build some prisons and lock us in em since we didn't die like they' figured we would? Have you fucking forgotten why we are down here to begin with?" At this point, Asher is basically shouting at Grey. It's Quinn's words that seem to draw his attention and he nods, pointing at her, "At least one person has a fuckin' clue."

Martin just shakes his head at what's going on, before slowly walking over to Cassandra. "I would almost think you had something to do with this, but I'm guessing this is more pent up tension finally getting released." As he watches things escalate, he continues, "We badly need to get a still going or to find something to mellow these fuckers out."

Well, for all that Cassandra wasn't caring, when Silas emerges with his news, the smile wipes from her face. It's replaced by a steely look, and for a moment she glances away to the ground before turning back to the look around at the others. Where does she stand? It's possible that she has a real opinion now, but she keeps it to herself. "Nope. Not my doing. Why does everyone always think everything is my doing?" she comments aside to Martin when he approaches, before stealing a glance towards his wrist, where there may or may not still be a bracelet.

"Same old same old. Lots of talk about voting. But decisions just getting made without talking to anybody," Max says, entirely unsurprised by that turn of events. Even though Quinn releases her hold on him, he remains next to her, moving when she starts to move toward the dropship. He still has the band on his wrist. He's never taken it off despite thinking about it and talking about it more than once.

"I didn't do fucking SHIT you stupid CUNT!" Yells Silas as he jabs a finger through the air straight to Quinn. "You need to sit the fuck down and realize that the stupid fucking retards like YOU are going to get us all strewn across the fucking river as some part of a god damn ritual! So shut the fuck up- and if you think you can go survive without them, go out on your fucking own and see how long you'll fucking last! Maybe the Grounders will take pity on you and give you pillows in your next fucking cell!" he says. Well shit, it looks like Silas has decided to join in on the shouting match. "I don't know what you or the rest of you fucking idiots think you can do, but without them or folks who can at least think for a moment to realize that we don't have the people or the supplies to properly deal with any of the shit being thrown our way we're ALL going to die!" he says, before he points a finger upwards towards the sky.

Silvers question seems to go unnoticed or simply unnoticed while Silas continues on, "They have guns, food, water, machinery- supplies! And we're cut off from the only supplies down here by an enemy who we have no idea how fucking big or dangerous they are, that are probably marching this fucking way to kill every single one of us! Or maybe they'll play it safe and gradually cut us off from the essentials and let us fucking starve to death. Do either of those sound fun to you?! Cause they'll happen if we don't get our shit together! The council is coming down, and the people responsible for bringing you into this world were saved from being fucking floated if you even give a remote shit by this point!" he says, kicking aside some dirt with a frustrated growl. "Maybe those people with goddamn Stockholm Syndrome are right! I've been surrounded by goddamn Neanderthals this entire time!" he says before he begins to head off and stomp back towards the dropship if he doesn't get the shit kicked out of him for his outburst.

Martin still has a bracelet on his wrist. He is holding out hope that Silver will be able to turn them into something useful and wants to save his. Her question earns a smirk and a sidelong look, "Because you're a trouble maker. You enjoy stirring things up. Or at least you seem to." Then Silas is yelling. When the man finishes, he comments, "Well, that was constructive."

Grey has done a dangerous thing. He's turned his back on Asher Kholmin. Granted, it's easier when you start outside of arm's reach, take several steps back while talking, and then turn your back. But still, there it is, Grey's back, complete with slung club and homemade dagger stuck in the back of his belt. Evidently, he feels that it's worth the risk, and not worth the argument, compared to getting inside before something horrible (as far as he's concerned) happens. He does, however, turn a baleful gaze on Silas, and snarl, "Watch your language, jackhole, or after I'm done kicking some sense into them, I'll kick some manners into you." And then it's two dangerous, angry men that he's turned his back on, "Argue all you want, I'm going to go keep those jackholes in there from killing us all." The last is said as he continues to walk to the ramp and start up it.

The look Cassandra shoots after the stomping Silas suggest that kicking the shit out of him is exactly what she has in mind. Unfortunately, she's well aware that she doesn't have it in her, and people are watching, and this just isn't the best time. For the moment, she lacks the humour to address Martin's very truthful statement about her with the banter it deserves. "I like to think I'm the only sane person around," says she.

<FS3> Opposed Roll — Quinn=melee Vs Silas=dodge
< Quinn: Great Success Silas: Good Success
< Net Result: Quinn wins - Solid Victory

Cole may of been there a bit, but he just watches, whistling, impressed. "And people think /I/ yell a lot."

"Okay, so, this is not constructive, and can we please not fight around people who really don't need to be in a fight?" Silver…Well, it's a little bit of scampering away from the dropship door before anyone can get her trapped in the middle of a fight. Run run run to open ground.

She's not usually one to fly off the handle and lose her shit. But this has been a very trying day from beginning to end, and Silas' words are the last straw in all this. As Grey passes him, she moves in and every ounce of the usually hidden anger is funneled into what happens next. She balls her fist up and just swings at Silas, whole body thrown behind the punch. It might be a small favor that she didn't draw the sword at her waist, at least. Plus? No more yelling.

Martin reaches down to give Cassandra a pat to the shoulder if she lets him. "You're one of the saner ones. I think they're doing a pretty good job of proving that." He crosses his arms then and watches for a few moments as Quinn and Silas seem ready to rumble. "Maybe I should fellow Grey and make sure things don't get like this in there."

Normally, turning your back on a pissed Asher Kholmin is a terrible idea. There's a good chance he'll use on of those shivs. That all being said, Asher's leg is still pretty fucked up and he views Grey as enough of a threat to not try to take him on injured. So he just watches, seething as Grey moves back into the dropship. He's not going to forget the sleight, but he isn't going to act on it just now. And then Silas explodes. The yelling and name calling are things Asher can, in general ignore. He does however start in towards Silas. Maybe he's going to go and keep him from getting his ass kicked too badly. "If you're the sane one, we're all fucked, Cass." Asher states on his way past her and towards Silas and Quinn. He's still using his spear as a walking stick on his way over to them.

"For fuck's sake," Max says, "Everybody shut the fuck up. This shit needs to just fucking stop. Because everybody going off the handle and yelling shit just makes everybody stop listening to each other over the sound of the noises coming out of their own faces." And then suddenly Quinn is hurling herself at Silas and he wasn't entirely expecting that, though it wasn't entirely unexpected either, and he reaches out a hand to try and steady her but he's way too late.

It's as if Quinn took her wishes for the moment and made them manifest. Cassie watches as Silas gets pounded and, suddenly realising this innate power of hers, tests her luck: I wish for a million ration bars. But unfortunately, nothing falls from the sky and into her lap this time around, although a hand does land on her shoulder. She flinches. Apparently she hadn't been expecting that, but she soon realises it's just Martin and relaxes. "You do that," she tells him with a nod, though her eyes are soon glued, mortified, when the wounded Asher moves to join the fray. "See if you can get that radio back. Into the hands of sane people. I'll even let you have your pick of my stash." Her voice lowers, so that likely only those who are paying attention rather than yelling catch her suggestion to the Tesla Three blonde.

You remember those videos where people might SEEM tough but in the end get their asses kicked? Neither does Silas, but he's certainly filling the bill here. Silas does seem to begin to notice Quinn, but he got his ass kicked getting thrown in the box and it reflects here. Quinn's fist connects with Silas' face- Silas' features seemingly scrunching up around her fist for the moment in which it connects before his leg slips as the momentum throws him onto his back with a thud as a large dollop of blood makes it way out of his nose and down his face.

He's on the ground for a few seconds, probably seeing stars as his eyes roll back somewhat, but a few blinks and he collects himself with a cough and a grunt, with thick drops of blood red… Well, blood, drop to the ground beneath him as he moves to get up. He says nothing, a hand coming to his face as he pushes himself away and rolls to try and stand to his face somewhat shakingly, eyes shifting over to stare at Quinn before he steps over and moves in to take a swing of his own in the form of a right hook to the /general direction/ of Quinns face. Though, it looks like if he gets hit even just once he'll be down for the count.

<FS3> Opposed Roll — Silas=melee-1 Vs Quinn=dodge
< Silas: Success Quinn: Success
< Net Result: DRAW

Slowly moving up towards Cassandra, Cole looks on impassively. "Huh. Welp, can't say I didn't see some shit like this comin." he offers idly. Then a glance over at her. "Who ya got?"

"Hey!" From a presumably safe distance, Silver calls out to the pair on the ground. "Knock it off! Neither of you's being smart from your point of view. You want to be a part of the Ark when they get down here? Then quit acting like a bunch of juvenile delinquents. You want to be your own governing body where you make the decisions? Start acting like people who're responsible enough to make your own decisions."

Martin chuckles at what Cassandra tells him and siply gives her a shake of his head, "There better be something nice in that stash." The Telsa Three blonde then heads for the dropship to see if things have blown up in there too.

Honestly, she probably wasn't expecting him to stand back up. But when he does she doesn't look surprised, perhaps there's a brief flare of respect that he's got the balls to try and back up his mouth. She even lets him have plenty of time to get steady and swing at her, her left arm swinging up at the last minute as she tucks her chin in towards her breastbone, left shoulder being pulled around so that she blocks the hit aimed towards her face. Anyone that had ever seen old videos of boxing matches my recognize the move, imperfect as it might be.

Instead of listening to others, rational or not, she comes around with her own right fist, again taking a swing towards Silas' face as she moves a half-step forward into the punch.

<FS3> Opposed Roll — Quinn=melee Vs Silas=dodge
< Quinn: Failure Silas: Success
< Net Result: Silas wins - Marginal Victory
<FS3> Opposed Roll — Asher=Melee-1 Vs Silas=Melee
< Asher: Great Success Silas: Good Success
< Net Result: Asher wins - Solid Victory

Max reaches over to try and grab Quinn and get between her and Silas, reaching for whatever arm, elbow, shoulder, clothing he can get ahold of on either of them, "Guys! ENOUGH. STOP." It might be futile. Max isn't particularly bruiser material, but it seems he's determined to get in there and try to keep them from beating on one another any further.

Cassandra smiles both to Martin and herself when he slips away towards the Dropship, before turning to Cole. "Who I got?" she repeats with confusion. "You mean, who I got bets on getting their arse kicked least? Well, it isn't official, but I reckon Quinn the Quiet One…" She stops mid-sentence just as that fist of hers swings back towards Silas' face, a lot less impressively than the last hit she scored, unfortunately. "And let me just say that I am not performing surgery on Asher a second time, and if that happens, I'm keeping his knife this time so he learns a lesson." She didn't actually perform any surgery, Morgan did, but this is how she's choosing to tell the story for now. On more pressing matters, she asks the Techie, "Did you find your radio?"

Silas grunts as he follows through with his movement somewhat, stepping along with the blocked hit and careful stepping around Quinn as to force her to turn to retaliate. When she comes back and around, his eyes follow her posture and body movements as he eyes her right fist. Sucking in a sharp breath, Silas' briefly holds it as he half-steps back somewhat and leans his chest back to let her swing her fist past and around. He paces back somewhat, and looks as if he's about to throw himself back in towards her, but then Max gets in the way and he stops, staring at him and looking back to her as he brings his thumb over to his unbloodied nostril, pressing down on it and blowing out a hunk of bloody snot onto the ground.. Or maybe Max, but probably the ground. This way, he has his back conveniently placed to Asher.

It took Asher longer than expected to get into the fray. He's still limping and using his spear as a walking stick. He also doesn't seem to be in a hurry about breaking them up. Really this is more about backing Quinn up because for the moment he has no allies and she wants away from the Ark as bad as he does. So when Silas' back presents itself, Asher tosses his spear to the side grunting in pain as he has to use his leg he snatches up Silas in a choke hold from behind. One arm around Silas' neck, then other locking his arm up behind him. To keep his injured leg from being too much of a burden, Asher brings his weight down into a kneeling position. "Enough!" he growls out. "You don't speak for all of us. I don't give a fuck what you think you know…You don't speak for me. You don't speak for her either. And if you keep this shit up, I will fucking break you."

Cole waves over Silver, get her attention to try and get her out of harm's "Sil, get over here." he calls over. He's still watching though, because what else can he do? He can fight…some, but he'd just be getting in way of the all the grunting, sweating, and moaning going on between the three of them

Quinn's not so out of control that she's going to start hitting at people….people not Silas. So when Max gets in the say she steps back, frowning at him, or the situation. But then Asher gets involved, and she reaches out a hand to grab Max's elbow, saying very, very calmly, "My not wishing to be thrown into a box, or be here when the Ark lands, doesn't make me stupid. I know what my chances are without help, but help doesn't have to come just from them. I'm not going to rat out everyone here that wants to try and live our lives in freedom just because I want mommy and daddy to hold me at night. Fuck my parents. They didn't do shit for me…I don't need Sympathizers or scared little rabbits making my decisions for me. This isn't the Ark yet."

Silas is quite easily caught off guard- and so when Asher's arm comes around his his neck and his pulled back, his eyes widen and he grunts. The grunts and growls come out somewhat chokes, eyes bulging somewhat as he's pulled down and along with Asher, his hands coming over to wildly grasp and scratch at the probably much more lethal mans grip a bit. Struggling wildly, Silas is denied breath as his eyes bulge somewhat and his eyes begin to roll back somewhat- tears welling up as he bares his teeth and he sputters up some spit near or onto Ashers face or arm as some saliva slips out of his mouth. Silas' right arm comes around and he brings, pushing back into Asher somewhat as he curls his legs and pulls them under his bum as he moves to wrestle up close and swing his elbow back and into his gut- or side for that matter, trying pound the large man off of him desperately as he threatens to go unconscious.

"I will, I just-" Silver backs toward Cole and Cassandra, still keeping a wary eye on the fight. "She's right," she echoes Quinn. "If we can get communications going to the Ark? Great. That means we've got options. But you can't say you're doing something for the good of everyone when it's really just what you want."

<FS3> Opposed Roll — Silas=Melee-1 Vs Asher=Dodge
< Silas: Good Success Asher: Good Success
< Net Result: DRAW

Martin exits the dropship and announces, "Morgan is talking to Jaha right now. They're wanting to start sending people down as soon as possible, and he is telling them to hold off for now, since we're still trying to get shit sorted down here." Then he watches Asher sort Silas a bit. "Yeah. That works, I guess."

Cole shrugs. "People up a hard fuckin front. I think it's just fuckin that. A front, because the other options is too fuckin terrifying. But they're scared. Just look at that." he says to Silver, gesturing at the fight. "That's equal fuckin amounts of anger and fear. Frustration. Stress. Whatever the fuck else you want to call it. This is gonna happen, an there ain't shit noboy can do shit about it. It'll either settle a fuckin dispute or it'll just devolve into something a lot fuckin worse." Another look. "This. Just a breaking point. For a few people."

The lanky brunette is watching the fight keenly now, the tension visible on her dark-complected features. Martin's arrival and announcement has her shooting him a dour look… Wait, what? What did he ever do to her? Apparently she hates him now, but that's Cassandra for you. After listening to Silver, she turns and asks Cole in a low voice, "Where do you stand, then?"

Max is narrowly snot upon, but considering what he just stepped into that's probably the least of his worries. When Quinn frowns he looks almost apologetic for stopping her, his hand going to her elbow so that they are holding onto one another. "This isn't going to fix it," he says to her finally, not watching what is going on with Silas and Asher, more than trusting that Asher can handle Silas. "They already called. Can you help me get this off?" He nods down at his wrist and then at the knife on his belt.

Another shrug goes to Cassandra. "Does it really matter where I stand?"

Fiona ducks out from one of the tents. She collapsed after her run and frantic effort to set up the medbay, which is why she's only now waking up from the ruckus. "The hell?" she asks wearily, looking around and shoving errant hair out of her face.

Martin simply smirks at Cassandra's reaction, not seeming too bothered if she is unhappy. "Well, I think I have had a enough of this. I'm going to get some sleep. When people get their shit together, come wake me up." He gives Fiona slap to the shoulder as he passes her, "Welcome to the fun. Shit's crazy. Morgan is talking to Jaha. Cameron is attacking Grey, who has him in a headlock. Cookie is a bit hysterical, and out here you have some people throwing down." Peace out!

"There is no fixing it, just making it feel better." Quinn replies, giving Max's elbow a squeeze before she hears Martin, and her attention snaps over there. Even if she has differences of opinion with Grey, he's still a friend. She gives Max a tug before starting up the ramp, a hand dropping to Asher's shoulder as she moves past them, "Let him breathe after he passes out."

From inside the dropship, all the shouting and yelling has finally subsided.

<FS3> Opposed Roll — Cassandra=melee Vs Cole=dodge
< Cassandra: Success Cole: Good Success
< Net Result: Cole wins - Marginal Victory

Quinn adds, "And yes, bracelets are coming off."

The elbow connects and Asher grunts just a bit. He doesn't let go immediately, wrenching his arm down violently to pull Silas off balance a bit further and then he just sort of flings Silas off to the left. It puts some distance between them and Silas might even catch a little air in the pricess. His eyes are still narrowed, but he looks relatively calm. This was more of a peace keeping action to him than a fight, since he doesn't appear to be lunging back at Silas, nor has he pulled out his axe or sword, or knives…or shivs. His breathes ragged, and erratic, "You think they want to come save you? They tried to fucking kill us. They'll just finish the job when they get here. At the very least, we're getting locked back up." Maybe not all of them, but people like Asher? Definitely. "So fuck that. I ain't waiting around for that."

Everything there happens after Quinn walks past.

"Yes, it does," is all Cassandra says to Cole. She steals a glance at his hand, squinting, but is unable to figure out what she needs to know while his jacket is on. So instead she reaches out and tries to grab his wrist with the clear intention of pulling back his sleeve and exposing where a bracelet may or may not be — without asking. But unfortunately, she telegraphs her movements and isn't very fast.

"I can help get it off," Silver offers to Max, though Quinn's declaration gets an arch of her brow. "For people who want it off. What is it about everyone in this camp that they don't get the whole idea of independent free will and have to tell everyone things are going to be their way?"

Fiona subconsciously brushes her fingers against her own bracelet, and then shakes her head. "I can't even sleep." she mutters, and without further word, heads into the dropship.

"Thanks," Max says to Silver when she offers to help remove the bracelet, and then says, "I think she meant you…" and there's a tug toward the dropship and he's following along with Quinn, maybe to make sure she doesn't pound anyone to mush.

Thrown off to the side, hitting and rolling against the ground as he sputters out a few violent coughs, gasping and grunt as he catches his breath- Silas clenches his eyes and grabs fistfuls of dirt and grass as he coughs and gasps, collecting his breath as he props himself up by his forearms and knees, grunting as he collects himself ever so gradually. He's quiet- or rather he simply isn't saying anything. Coughing, heavy breathing, and grunting isn't exactly quiet- but it's all he's letting out as he stays there and collects himself, nose still bleeding onto the ground under him.

Cole jerks his hand away when Cassandra reaches for it, perhaps as a natural reaction at something moving fast toward him. "And no, it doesn't matter. And it's not an issue that /should/ matter." he remarks. "The idea that bracelet decides anything is the time where we start making fuckin divisions. 'Us versus them'. And /that/," he points at the fight, "is how it starts. But I'm not gong to let something like fuckin fear rule my life. People only care about the bracelet because they're scared shitless. That's it. Sorry, I won't be ruled by that shit."

"Whatever," says Cassandra, echoing the sentiments of her entire generation. Every generation, really, when they're at a certain age. She gives Cole a look and then turns her own attention back towards the fight, folding her arms across her chest — to reveal an intact bracelet still on her wrist, it might be said. As Silas hits the ground yet again, she approaches with tepid steps, staying out of accidental-elbow-to-the-face range. She looks down at the man with a look that says she's seriously considering contributing a good kick while he's down, but instead she turns to look at Asher. "Good job."

Watching Silas, Asher leans over and grabs his spear, using it to hoist himself back up…because he's stuck in that kneeling position. It takes him a few moments to get back his feet. A glance is spared over his shoulder at Cole, "Yeah, I'm afraid of what the Council's gonna do when they come down here." As to bracelets, Asher doesn't have one anymore anyway, so that doesn't seem to be what's concerning him. His gaze then flickers to Cassandra, and he eyes her up and down once, then nods, "We all do what we gotta."

"I don't trust the Council," Silver snorts softly. "They never cared about any of us. Just what was best for them, for making things go smoothly. So." She pushes a hand through her hair, looking around warily for a moment before she shakes her head. "It's gonna be like this all night. People getting into fights over what might happen. Gonna find somewhere out of the way."

When Cassandra draws near Silas- he looks up, and registering the look on her face, a hand moves as though he's about to reach back and grab his sword- but instead he curls his hand into a fist and pushes it against the ground as he begins to fumble and bring himself to his feet, his right hand coming over to somewhat shakily wipe away the blood from his face as he offers glares to Asher and Cassandra, as well as Quinn as he begins to get to his feet before he simply fumbles along and onto his feet, moving to simply sulk off and away into his little corner of the camp.

"Thanks for proving my point." Cole calls after Cassandra, giving her a thumbs up. Then ee raises a brow at Asher. "You let that fear control you, that just means they still have control over you. They still fuckin own you. The moment you stop being afraid, the fuckin moment they don't have a grasp on you anymore. A bracelet doesn't dictate that, /you/ do. Take it off, don't, whatever. Doesn't matter. But damn those want the Ark here just because you disagree with it. They may not even be right. But then again, you might not fuckin be right either."

Silas looking like he's about to reach for his sword, even though he restrains himself just as she does, has Cassie stepping back defensively just in case… and then casually circling around behind her former meat shield when he pulls to his feet, but thankfully he walks away rather than starting anything. She loves a good fight as much as anyone, but getting stabbed or chopped in two is never fun. "You were too late," she points out to Asher, a touch contemptuously. "Radio's up. Ark's landed, one way or another." She shakes her head, then starts to turn away. There isn't even any meat left on the spit; the festivities are over.

"They don't let murderers live Cole…Ain't gonna start with me." Asher replies, apparently not really interested in getting all enraged about this particular issue, "I don't give a fuck about the bracelets. And I don't care about right or wrong. I just ain't interested in gettin' killed or locked up by the Council. So I don't intend to be here when they show up. Doubt I'll be the only one ready to leave either." Asher then eyes Cassandra, nodding to her, "Yeah, caught that…That's why it's time to move the fuck on." And with that, and Cassandra turning away, Asher starts back towards his tent at a limp, his spear thudding against the ground with each step.

Tonight's activities are as close as Silver wants to get to any fight. Much as she'd like to prevent fights, she doesn't want it bad enough to get into one herself. So as the crowd disperses, she slips off as well, in search of a place where she might be able to make it through the night without getting interrupted by someone else's fight.

"I really enjoy how we make so much lovely fuckin assumptions about shit." Cole remarks. "Maybe you're right, maybe you're wrong, that's the funny about trying predict shit, ain't it? Most the fuckin time, don't got a fuckin clue one way or another. So, leave if that's your choice. Nobodies stopping you, it's your fuckin right to do so. Ark one way, Grounders the other. Not a great choice with that one. But if you ask me, our worst fuckin enemies? We're looking at them /right/ now. This little ker-fuckin-fluffle shows that. So I suggest people get their goddamn reality check. And soon. Or there ain't gonna be nobody left for the Grounders or the Council to come talk to." And at that, he moves off for his tent. "Sleep tight!" as he departs, tossing a wave.

Cassandra stops dead in her tracks, staring after Cole. The look she's giving him is the same one she was giving Silas, but as she doesn't genuinely want to kick the shit out of him and start a whole new fight, she keeps herself in check and soon moves right along and off to her own little tent near his wall. But if looks could kill…

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