Day 011: Village Center Is Busy
Summary: People come and go and talk about things.
Date: May 19 2016
Related: None
Ginia Morgan Cameron Grimm Gideon Martin Fiona 

Village Center - Coesbur, Trikru
The village of Coesbur is a middling-sized settlement of the Trikru clan. It has two major entry points, both of which funnel into the village center. The first entry point is from the west, and is across the Cioesbur Bridge which stretches over one of the branches of the divided Potomac. The other entry point is from the east, and provides a direct route to the road to Polis. The village center is really nothing more than a large dirt courtyard surrounded by a variety of structures. While most of these are Grounder-built, there is one that survived the apocalypse. It is a tall, octagon-shaped stone building made of brown and red brick. It's roof is domed, and made of tarnished, greened copper with inlays of colored glass. Broad, white steps lead up to the two-door-wide entrance to the building.
Day 11, hours after the treatment of the ill.

After they all finished dealing with the sick Grounders and it got to the 'wait and see' stage, Morgan went off to rest. He had a nice nap and is now curious to explore further what he saw on the way into the village. He wanders out of the building and pauses in front of it to look around. He's got on a jacket that pretty obviously came from a Grounder though it's not fastened so his lack of a shirt is clear. There's a light bandage/cloth going across his chest.

The village is alive with activity. Grounders going about doing what it is they do on a daily basis. Some running errands, or fetching things. Others working, plying their crafts, be it leatherworking, smithing or what have you. A group of grounder children playing some form of tag, stop in front of Morgan briefly to stare at him and the questions in the Grounder language pour out of them. They would be hard enough to understand even if they weren't talking all over each other, each trying to be louder than the next.

It's the crafters that seem to get Morgan's attention the most but before he can move over to one, the horde of kids show up. He just smiles and shakes his head at the barrage of questions. Or so he assumed from the inquisitive tone at the end of most of them. "Sorry, I don't speak your language."

One of those crafters is a youngish woman in a squat wooden building, decorated of course in the local fashion with large doors that seemingly slide open and along the side of it. She seems to be busy at work mixing something up in a bowl, but the ever increasing volume of the curious children has her looking in that direction. "<In Trigedasleng> Enough." she calls out as she sets the bowl down in the barbershop style chair that dominates her working area and hurries over to scatter the children with shooing arms "<In Trigedasleng> Live the Skaikru boy alone and go play." it seems to be effective all but one of the children run off. The smallest of the boys grabs the woman's hand and while he quiets still stares at Morgan "You are…" there is a pause as she searches for the proper word. Her Skaikru English is rusty "strange to them."

"I know the feeling. You're all strange to me." Morgan replies with a smile. "Morgan come Skykrew." he says. Seems Fiona's language lessons on the way here didn't stick with him since he had other things to think about.

"We have that in common." Ginia replies though it takes her a moment to put the sentence together. She is clearly not a warrior, "Morgan kom Skaikru." she doesn't totally butcher his name as she repeats it back to him, probably to both aid her in remembering and correct his pronunciation "Shaky ground to start from, but im-pro-ving." those multiple syllable words are harder. "Ginia kom Trikru." she says finally giving her own name "Were you finding something?" though she really means looking for something.

Morgan got the gist. "Just looking around. There's nothing else to be done for the patients now but wait and watch. If any continue to get worse, we'll take further steps but helping them breath more easily should do a lot to help them recover." He gestures to where he saw her working. "What is it you were doing there?"

The mention of the patients has Ginia looking behind him at the building worriedly "My brother is sick. He was treated too? He will get better?" the child at her side is pulled closer and arm going around the boy's shoulder, but her dark eyes lock on Morgan. "Making ink." she answers somewhat absently, more focused on the answers to her questions.

"If he's sick and with the rest of them, he was treated. Everyone was." Morgan assures Ginia. Not having any idea of which her brother was, he can't say anything about his prognosis. "The fluid pressing down on their lungs has been drained so they should be breathing more easily now." The answer of ink is surprising. "You make books?"

The answer is enough to relieve the woman for the moment, so Ginia lets any other questions she has of her brother or the other patients go for the moment. "I may visit later?" that one she does ask. She tried yesterday but was stopped from doing so. "Books?" she looks a bit surprised that he would come to that conclusion and she shakes her head "No. Ink for…" she is at a loss, not knowing the English word for it "the marks, designs." she touches the tattoos on her face and points out others passing that are heavily inked.

"That's up to your healer. Keta." Morgan's not going to intrude on her territory as far as that goes. "But tell me his name and I can find out more for you if she doesn't want visitors yet. We don't want anyone else getting sick and your people don't have the resistance to the virus." He looks disappointed at Ginia's answer about the ink. "Oh, For your tattoos." Though the disappointment starts becoming curiosity. "May I?" he asks, lifting a hand but not yet trying to touch.

"I will ask Keta." Ginia says, not offering the name of her brother and just leaving it at that. She doesn't want to get sick or bring it back to her own family. There is a bit of brow furrowing at his disappoint "Yes. Could be used for writing too." ink is ink after all, hers is just safe for injecting into the skin. When he lifts a hand she leans back slightly, but when he is polite enough to ask she nods, if a bit warily and lifts her face so he can feel the delicate lines that cross her cheeks, and the arcs that decorate her forehead.

Morgan takes a step forward to get a closer look as he lightly runs a finger over the lines crossing Ginia's cheek. ""Is there some significance to them? Religious? Symbolic? How are they applied? What do you use to prevent infection?" He doesn't prolong the contact and drops his hand once he feels the slightly raised scar tissue.

Once he is done examining her markings, Ginia takes a step back from Morgan. Before she answers any of the questions she nudges the child at her side "<In Trigedasleng> Go play with the others." she tells him and he runs off to do whatever it is she said. "Yes, well most have meaning, to the bearer if not everyone." she glances back to her own little building and then back "I think you call it needle." she says, unsure it that is the proper term or not "A herbal…uhm..tonic?"

"So the patterns don't have any meaning to the village as a group?" Morgan asks. "They're specific to the person who gets them?" Though this last, phrased as a question, is more a statement of conclusion. "Interesting." And with a needle. "Can I see your equipment and how it's done?"

"They can. The warriors have many like that." Ginia clarifies for Morgan but for the moment decides its probably best not to explain that unless specifically asked. Another wary look crosses her face but she nods to him and beckons him to follow her to the building that houses her little tattoo shop "I can de-mon-strate." she sends an appraising look over her shoulder. Does she plan to demonstrate on him?

Morgan will have to look at the various warrior types and see what tattoos they have in common. At the gesture, he starts after her. Demonstrate? He didn't mean a demonstration, more a step by step explanation but he'll see what she meant. Could be a language thing.

The pair get some stares as the cross through the main square to where Ginia was working. While the woman finds is a bit unsettling she continues without hesitation, bruising aside the metal and bone windchimes that hang from the edge of the building. "Here." she says as she unrolls a bit of leather across the table at the back to expose the variety of long and pointy bits of bone, metal and a few on unknown material. There are a few that are bundled together and tied securely. Then there are the small knives both straight and curved. All inkstained, but clean. Torture looking devices is more like it. "You may touch."

Morgan looks around curiously, which intensifies as he watches Ginia as she unrolls the leather. "Thank you." he says, giving her a smile. New toys to play with! Stepping over, he picks up each to study closely and tests the edge on the knives. He seems especially interested in the needles, bringing them up to his eye to look at carefully. "Do you make these? Someone in the village?"

Ginia nods at his gratitude, a little surprised at it. Her few interactions with Skaikru so far hasn't led her to believe they are polite, but one being so is nice to see. She watches him a moment as he examines the tools of her trade, then reaches into a crate under the table to get a bit of tanned hide that is decorated with all manner of inked designs. "I can show you." she spreads the leather out and taps it to indicate she means on it and not him.

"Show me? How to make a needle?" Morgan asks, surprised. It takes a moment to realize she meant the demonstration. "Oh, yes. I'd love to see that." He sets down the needle he was studying and moves closer to look at what's on the hide.

She reaches over and gently touches the bone ones and the ones of the unfamiliar material "I make these." so apparently someone else makes the metal ones. Most likely whoever the village metalworker is. Ginia did mean the tattooing but she could show him how to make the needles as well. Though for any kind of sewing they would need to be modified. Figuring he would she nods at him again and goes to get the ink she was preparing. The hide seems to be used as a testing ground for designs. There are abstract patterns, animal shapes and the geometric delicate patterns similar to her own filling the hide. "Do your people not decorate their bodies with what you call tattoos?" she asks as she sets the bowl down and selects one of the metal needles.

"Are you able to make needles to sew with? With the little holes in the end to pull thread?" Morgan asks. "You do sew right? Your people, I mean. I've seen clothing that would have needed to be sewed with fine stitches." As opposed to patched together leather. Ginia's question gets a shake of his head. "Almost no one. Anything that can be used to make ink can be used for something else more important. I've seen videos of people with them though."

"Me?" Ginia asks touching her chest with a hand then using the metal needle to stir the ink in the bowl a bit "I think?" she isn't sure about that, she has never tried to make that kind of needle before. The look she gives him at his question indicates that it was probably a bit of stupid one, but she answer anyway "We sew, yes." some better than others, and maybe some not at all, but in general yes. Morgan and Ginia stand in her little three sided building where she does her tattooing. She seems to be showing him the tools of her trade and about to demonstrate tattooing on a piece of inked hide. With the needle lightly covered in the black ink she begins to pierce the hide with it, leaving inked holes in its wake. These is brief pause at his answer, she finds this hard to believe, despite the evidence "How do you honor personal…" another pause to find the right word, "victories." she settles for that one.

How do they honor personal victories? "By getting Boxed." Morgan answers dryly. Though he immediately shakes his head. "Sorry, sort of a joke. I don't think we… count our victories in the same way you do. When something important does happen, something good, most people just invite friends and family to a party or something." Moving closer to Ginia, he watches what she does to the hide. "That's got to hurt."

Gideon kom Trikru has been absent since the Skaikru were brought to the village — some assume it is to further evade the inevitable punishment from Oxfor on failing yet again at something that should have been so easy: take the captured Skaikru to Indra. As the captured Skaikru were definitely not taken to Tondc, and now even more trouble may be on the horizon, Gideon is carefully avoiding her inevitable confrontation with the steheda. She enters the village from the northern pathway, carrying with her several dead, long-tailed hares. She is heading toward the common house to drop off the hares, but then is distracted as notes Ginia and Morgan. A look at the common house, a look at the tattoo artist, and her curiosity wins out. She adjusts her strides, heading toward the pair.

There is a blank look given to Morgan at the term being used in a strange fashion "What is this boxed?" Ginia asks him. His explaining it is a joke really doens't help the matter, and since she didn't understand doens't find if funny in the least. "A feast?" she asks to make sure she understands "We have feasts for celebrating as well." she looks from him to the hide she is tattooing "It is not without pain." she concedes. Her and Morgan stand in her three sided building where she ply her craft, she is showing him her tattoo equipment and demonstrating, which has drawn Gideon as well. "<In Trigedasleng> You bring me dinner?" she asks the other woman in a joking fashion as she notices her approach. While Morgan might not recognize the words, the tone is clear, some things are universal.

Morgan shakes his head again. "It's really not important." Ginia talking to someone who's not him has him half turning to see who it is. "Hello Gideon." He'd been told that's her name. "It's good to see you again. Did everything heal well?"

"Ha!" Gideon flashes Ginia a wide smile that causes the ash spread across her cheeks and eyes to crinkle a bit. "<In Trigedasleng> I'll make the same deal with you as I do with the cooks… I keep the furs and ears, you get the meat." Then her eyes take on a warm laughter. "<In Trigedasleng> But, I think I might get in trouble if I don't deliver these for tonight's meal." Then she looks toward Morgan, head tipped a bit. "Heya." She intakes a breath, but then nods. "Yes, all healed. Thank you… for your care."

Emerging from the Staheda's Hall is Cameron, dressed in his 'borrowed' grounder armor over his shirt, and /clean/. He was clean before, really, but man, hot water and soap? He's even got damp hair, so recent was his taking full advantage of grounder hospitality. He looks positively chipper, an ever-present smile resting on his features. Glancing around, he sights Morgan and walks over to stand by him, bumping shoulders lightly, but his eyes are upon the grounders. Curious. "Hi. Al leek Cameron Scott kom Skaikru." He still doesn't have the first part right, but he gets the kom, finally.

There is a nod to Morgan, though now she is curious, she may have to inquire about it later. While Ginia is amused by Gideon's response she doesn't really smile, not in any exuberant, teeth showing manner, its ghostly, if anything. "<In Trigedasleng> You get into enough of that without me helping." she tells Gideon in response. As Morgan greets Gideon and they speak, she dips a clothe into another bowl sitting nearby and wipes the residual ink away from the hide, the spiral pattern she has peirced into the hide clear. The newcomer who introduces himself and treats Morgan with such familiarity has her studying him a moment before introcuding herself "Ginia kom Trikru."

"Just returning the favor." Morgan answers. "You took good care of us. It was the right thing to do." He immediately smiles when he sees Cam coming over and puts an arm around the other young man when he stands next to him. "What do you think Cam? Would I look good with a tattoo?" he asks with a grin, pretty obviously not serious about it. Then more seriously, he says "They make needles. For sewing too. And Ginia's knives would be almost perfect for minor surgery."

Gideon sobers at Ginia's observation, and she shrugs up her hares a bit higher on her back. Her shoulders hold a bit of uncomfortable tension, and she offers a quick and agreeable nod. "Sha," she murmurs in monosyllabic agreement. Then she looks over to Cameron as he joins the fray. "Cameron," she says, bobbing her head slightly, then returning the introduction with, "Gideon." She turns her attention back to Morgan as he shows off some of Ginia's tools.

"Depends on which one, and where." Cameron grins, his dimples showing as he tilts his head to regard Morgan a bit. Leaning into the embrace of Morgan's arm, he purses his lips, "Arm tattoos are good. Or, maybe something on the back. /Not/ on the chest on penalty of no more…" He /does/ seem to be taking the question seriously, but in his response, he pauses, and for once in his life, his shamelessness doesn't have him saying /whatever/ comes to mind. "Ahem." Whoa, diplomatic Cam is a thing. "Sharp, then? Now all we need to figure out is anesthesia." He turns his smile to Gideon, "Gideon. Interesting name, the first name that … seemed namely, that I've heard? I mean, no offense to anyone else's names." Okay so maybe diplomatic Cam was a bit premature.

When Morgan suggests even playfully about getting a tattoo Ginia looks a bit worried. She knows Skaikru have been given guest rights, but doesn't think it extends far enough to make her comfortable with permanently inking one of them. There is a look to Gideon, perhaps to get her reaction to Morgan and Cameron discussing getting inked. Cameron's answer though has her looking at him quizzically "Plenty have tattoos on chest." she tells him "It does not stop them from anything." she tells the young man, unsure of what he is talking about.

Morgan looks at Cameron, surprised. "You're serious. You really like how they look?" Huh. "Yeah, anaesthesia would be wonderful. I think I figured out how to get around the problem of infection when doing a transfusion too: direct from person to person. No exposure to air or anything not sterilized. We'd need the proper equipment though. Maybe just one of those long needles." he muses, mostly to himself. "Anyway. Thanks for the demonstration, Ginia. It was interesting."

"A favorite of my father's," Gideon explains about her name, though there is something almost brooding in her words. She glances over toward Ginia as the talk turns to tattoos, but Morgan's surprise earns him a sharp arch of her brows. "Ginia does good work." Even if only half of Gideon's own tattoos are from Ginia's needles. She then regards Cameron and Morgan as they slip into discussions of the sick. For her part, she remains watchful and curious.

"They're art." Cameron says to Morgan, simply, as if that's that. "More permanent then the kind of art I do, but why shouldn't skin be a canvas? I mean /I/ wouldn't want one, mostly because I wouldn't want to wear the same art all the time. As soon as I figure out how to make some paints, though, some /body painting/ sounds like fun." He blinks and looks at Ginia a moment, "Ah, I mean I wouldn't /want/ him to get one on his chest, not that it would… /interfere/ with anything he… does. I mean." He shrugs, a bit helplessly. As an aside, "That's great, Mor. Being able to transfuse would be huge." He turns his smile to Gideon, "Oh, I don't doubt it. I'm an artist, too. A different kind of artist. But…"

Ginia is unsure if she should be insulted at Morgan's surprise at his friend liking the tattoos or not. She dips the cloth again and cleans the needle she used with it before returning it to its leather case. At Gideon's compliment she decides to chalk it up to cultural differences and not be to insulted by it. There is another ghost of smile at Cam's stammering but she seems interested in his body paint and picks up the bowl with the ink it it. "Can be used for that." she says "It washes off after few baths." and some scrubbing. This one happens to be a dark blueish-black though.

"I'm sure she does." Morgan assures Gideon. "But they're not common to us." He'll ask Cam later why not the chest. "It would be risky but possible I think. And if someone needs one badly enough, we're probably not in a position to argue over risky." Since the talk has turn to art, he mentions "She makes the ink."

Gideon watches Cameron and Morgan with a flick of curiosity, and even her gaze regard Ginia as one brow arches in silent question. She also does not get this whole thing with the chest. In fact — as Grey's chest is the only example she has — she finds the Sky People's chests to be pretty ordinary. Though then she nods slightly at Morgan's words. "There are many things that are not common to you that are quite common to us, and the other way around. Your Grey seems a bit shy about nudity."

Now Cameron's interest is piqued, "What do you use to make the ink? If you don't mind my asking. I've been experimenting with trying to come up with my own paintink since the Landing, and haven't succeeded yet. Of course, surviving has taken up most of my time. I haven't painted or drawn anything in so long I sometimes wonder if I've lost the talent." He has to grin suddenly when Gideon mentions Grey's shyness, "That varies from person to person, though in general the skaikru are maybe a bit conservative. Shy. I'm not. Bodies are bodies." He does nod quickly to Morgan, "Yeah, once they need it, risk is out the window."

Ginia doesn't know much about the healing arts or transfusions so she has nothing to add to that conversation but she does nod verification about the ink. That she does know about. The questioning look from Gideon has her shrugging, another universal gesture. "This one is made of a mix of iron, ash, bark, vinger and a few other things." she isn't going to give it all away to a stranger "Conservative in showing thier body, but not in using thier tongues." she was seen that the Skaikru are quite verbal and outspoken.

Morgan grins at Gideon's comment. "I heard your baths are open to everyone so someone is likely to walk in on you." From his tone, it doesn't seem to terribly bother him. "We're not used to that either though some will be bothered by the idea more than others." Or less, in the case of Cameron. "I've been meaning to go there. Hot water and soap aren't common in the camp yet." He can't help but laugh at Ginia's comment though her meaning isn't exactly the one he's thinking of.

Gideon snorts a bit at Ginia's descriptors. "Being kept at the top of their… dropship… displayed as much." Then she fixes Morgan and Cameron with an arched look. "You like to shout. A lot." Then she casts Morgan a glance and a small nod. "Yes… he did okay… in the end." And her mouth curves with a small hint of amusement. Then she shakes her head, arms crossed lazily at her chest. Then someone calls for her across the square, and her attention flicks in their direction. "Ah, excuse me…" Gideon starts to step away, murmuring a farewell to Ginia as she does.

Listening to what Ginia says is in the ink, Cameron looks abjectly disappointed when it goes down 'and other things', but he nods in acceptance. "Why would we be?" he wonders with a simple half shrug and a dimpled smile, "We want you to get to know us, and we want to get to know you." He gives a wistful look at Morgan, grinning, "Compared to our cold water baths… they've got a nice slice of civilization here."

The woman doesn't recall saying something funny to Morgan, so his laughter has Ginia puzzled and shooting a confused look to Gideon in hopes she can explain it. The reminder of how Gideon was held prisoner though has the confusion fading and a frown taking its place. She isn't sure how Gideon can be so nonchalant about it, but with the woman walking away she can't ask even if she were inclined too "We are getting to know you." Ginia not as much as some of the others, but she hears things, gossip passes quickly in the village "You must know that not all is good."

"You can show it to me later." Morgan suggests to Cam. "Oh, we know that." he tells Ginia. "Not all our people are happy about the idea of talking to you considering how we first met. But they're in the minority." So far. "Hopefully, if all goes well here, they'll change their minds."

"Absolutely." agrees Cameron with a fond smile for Morgan, before he nods his head to Ginia, "Of course its not all good, I mean, we have gotten off to a rocky start. However, we can help each-other. That's why we're here now, to show a gesture of good faith in helping heal your people. We are very different people, but we can learn a lot from each-other and be stronger for it."

"A lot of ours feel the same." which is no secret, there has probably been a few vocal grounders about the Skaikru's presence in the village "Hopefully your healing our people," her brother among them, "helps cement a peace at least." as she speaks the little boy that was clinging to her earlier runs in rambling in the native tongue and wanting Ginia to come with him. Whatever it is seems more important than the Skaikru "<In Trigedasleng> Alright Luka." she tells the boy as she puts her tools away "I am needed elsewhere. If you need my help with anything, please ask." she gives a nod in parting and then follows the young boy out.

"Thanks for showing me your equipment, Ginia." Morgan says as the woman leaves. A quick looks Gideon to still be talking over there so he turns to Cameron. "Do you want me to get one? And why not on my chest?"

Cameron tilts his head to the side, peering at Morgan a moment, "I don't /want/ you to get one, but if you wanted one, assuming it wasn't bad, I wouldn't /mind/. I know its not usual, but I'm an artist." That said, he grin wickedly, "I like your chest the way it is. Doesn't need marking up."

"I never thought about it till you said you like them." Morgan says. "I wouldn't say I want one but if you'd like it I might be able to be talked into it. Or bribed." he adds with a grin. "But not on the chest." Which is fine by him. Glancing around, he lowers his voice. "They're not as primitive as I thought they would be. Which is good. They know even more things that we need to know."

Cameron reaches a hand up to rub along Morgan's upper arm, "Something here might be interesting. A little flair to highlight your skin. Maybe we can talk Ginia into giving us some ink and I could paint something there and see how you like it, before you get anything permanent done." That said, he nods and adds more seriously, "Have you got any more of an idea about them, as a people? Like.. what they /value/? In friends?"

Gideon has unburdened herself of the long-tailed hares, delivering them to the common house to be skinned and portioned. She is starting to slowly return toward Ginia's stand, but is stalled as she nears, noting the artist has moved on and it just the pair of Sky boys still hanging around. She considers the pair, but then rolls her shoulders as she continues forward.

"We could do that." Morgan agrees, taking Cam by the waist then pulling him closer. "No, nothing. I was a bit busy. Maybe one of the others has talked to them more while were were working. I'll want to stay here till everyone's healthy anyway so it'll give us time to get to know them. Some of the others can go back if they want." Spotting Gideon, he lets Cam go and turns to nod to her.

"I'm staying as long as you're here." says Cameron promptly, leaning in a bit as he's pulled closer, "I haven't quite figured them—" And his voice trails off as he follows Morgan's gaze and he sees Gideon again, flashing a quick smile and wondering in a curious tone, "Do you mind if I ask what 'trikru' means? You named us skaikru, which in retrospect is pretty obvious, sky, and such. But 'tri'? I can't seem to figure out what it represents. Or what kru means."

"Woods Clan," Gideon says without missing a beat or even hesitating. She offers a small smile. "A tri is a tree. We are the clan of the trees." She looks around as if very meaningfully. Then she sobers again as she gestures. "A kru is a clan, as is a geda." Then she boasts with a bit of pride. "The Trikru is the first of twelve clans." Then she gestures to the sky. "You come from there… so… skaikru." Then she tilts her head, expression curious. "What do you call yourselves?"

"People." Morgan answers. Sure, there are different stations and jobs but they're all human. "We're all people. Me, Cam, you. We're the ones who are left after the war killed so many. Our ancestors survived up there, your ancestors survived down here somehow. We were very survived."

"We don't usually call ourselves anything, in particular, because… we thought we were the only people to survive the catastrophe. We've spent a century preserving the knowledge of the old world— at great difficulty and sacrifice— in the hopes that we could one day return the ground and rebuild." explains Cameron with a slight shrug, as he reconsiders, "Though I suppose sometimes we'd call ourselves 'citizens of the ark', as the ark is the name of our… sky city?" He blinks a moment, looking surprised, "Wait, there's twelve… krus?" He glances at Morgan and grins wryly, "So we didn't just happen to land in the one place there was people. I knew that was astronomically unlikely."

Gideon shakes her head slightly at Morgan's generalization. "Where you come from, who you come from… it matters." The archer adjusts her pack and quiver. "And who you are matters." Then she looks to Cameron, and she nods. "Yes, twelve." Then she feels a slight uncertainty in her belly. Perhaps she is already saying too much. So, she straightens her shoulders a bit, focusing more on this Ark. "The Ark then… a place you cannot return to. It was terrible enough falling from the sky, I can't imagine making the journey in reverse."

Morgan shakes his head. "We might come from the Ark but it's not who I am. Most of us don't want to return there even if we could. Many of us want nothing more than to forget about it completely. Some of us… Maybe we'll be willing to be part of what it becomes when they come down." He shrugs a shoulder and snakes an arm around Cam again. "So who are the other eleven?"

"The ark is dying." is Cameron's response, his voice grave, "Even if we wanted to return, there will soon be nothing to return to. The machines that we used to keep ourselves alive in the sky, where there is no air to breath, no earth to plant in, and the only water we have is the water we carry… they are failing. My father is still up there." There's a look of pain on his face for a moment, and he glances away. He does lean into Morgan's arm, though.

"That is a shame," Gideon says, head tilted a bit. "You would not be who you are without accepting where you came from. You would not be where you are, either." There is a meaningful glance to how Morgan's arm twists around Cameron, as if that might be part of her statement more than a physical where. The question of the eleven clans draws a thin line from her lips. "Not for me to say." She then looks to Cameron, and her head nods once. "That much I have heard, and so now you all are seeking home here…"

Gideon's point might have struck home as the arm around Cam tightens a bit. "All right. We'll find out more at the summit probably." Morgan's willing to drop it for now. Though he does note to Cam "And this is only one part of this continent. And there are a bunch of others too. The war must not have been as bad as it was made out to be." Gideon's other words get a nod. "Yes, they will be. Maybe not as close to this village as our dropship is. There's a lot more of then than there are us. And they'll need to be closer to water."

Cameron nods to Gideon's last statement, and explains, "In the old world, the scientists— scholars?— would fly into the sky in order to better there understanding of their fields. These trips were only ever meant to be temporary. When the war happened, those scientists gathered together their vehicles— ships— and machines, and attached them all together to make the Ark, but their machines were never built to stand so long alone, isolated, without support from the ground. That we endured for ten years— let alone a century— is a testament to the greatness of the machines of the old world, and our own ingenuity. But now,…" Cameron shrugs slightly, as if helpless, "We have no choice. My people will suffocate or they will come to the ground." He glances to Morgan and smiles slightly, "She has a point. We are ark-born and we will carry that with us for the rest of our lives, no matter what. I don't agree with all that our people have done, but I am proud of our heritage." He does shake his head slightly, "I don't know how some of the best scientists in the world could have been so /wrong/ with how bad the war was."

"We would not have survived without The Commander," Gideon says, and her voice holds some strange reverence. "The first of our people came together under her guidance and leadership… there was nothing before she came." Then she then turns her attention to Cameron, this time listening with a lot more rapt attention than anything else so far. Her brows arch high above her eyes, and she frowns deeply. "You come from a very unkind place, but it does not sound as if it is unkind by choice." She does give Cameron an approving smile then as he speaks of the importance of heritage, and she nods in agreement.

"Our heritage is this planet." Morgan points out. "And we can reclaim it. Eventually." It's what Gideon says that gets a frown since it comes perilously close to what he and Cam have talked about and it's a subject he's tired of thinking about. Grey is annoying and not just the former cadet. "Well, that will hopefully be ending soon and they'll learn to adapt. We'll be here to help those of them who want to."

"Is… the staheda your Commander? No wait, her." Cameron tilts his head to the side, curiously, "I mean, is the Commander the leader of the Trikru? It sounds like she's a very impressive woman." That said, he sighs softly, "Yes, the Ark had little choice in being… unkind. On the Ark, every crime is a capital crime, if you are an adult. Murder is punished by death. Theft is punished by death. The Ark made no distinction, because the Ark could not afford to allow weakness." He purses his lips, "But there are many ways in which the Ark went… too far, to protect itself." He glances at Morgan and shakes his head slightly, "This planet is… resources. Land to farm, animals to hunt, water to drink. Without people, without the history of what people pass down, its empty, meaningless. This planet would be perfectly happy if every human being died, it'd go on its merry way. Our heritage is what we've built, what we as a people do. For the Ark, our heritage is the sciences we preserved against all odds. And now how we put them to use, and how we — hopefully —" He smiles quickly at Gideon, "Learn from those who know this planet better then us."

Gideon's jaw tightens a bit at the word reclaim. She casts a glance around her, as if to see who else may be loitering near, as if she is worried others may have heard Morgan's words. But, they are mostly alone in this corner of the center. She once more adjusts her quiver and bag at her shoulder, letting the weight displace itself a bit more. "Murderers, thieves, traitors, and liars. It is only Devin's crime is the only that I do not understand." She then offers a small nod, though there is still a wariness there… a deep suspicion. "If we wish to teach you," she replies, though it is not said with malice or distrust, just caution. "We are not kindness, either… that is where I am most concerned… you did not come from a kind place, but you are not going to find much kindness here either. There is still war, and death, and laws, and punishment."

"Cam." Morgan says, giving him a look. "Much like who the other eleven are, not everything needs to be said right now. And all our heritages, ours and Gideon's, include the ones who built the technology to make the Ark." And the technology to blow it all up to shit. "It didn't begin a hundred years ago. People were on this planet for a very long time. Everything you just talked about came from them." He nods to Gideon. "Oh, you taught us that quite clearly when you attacked us without warning. Speaking of murderers. That was the only lesson we needed, to know what to expect down here. We're used to unkindness. We'd prefer to avoid it but we can deal with it. But." he says, putting on a smile and making an effort to warm the cooler tones that crept into his voice. "Allies and friends are so much better. We have a lot we can teach each other."

"I'm not a murderer, a thief, a traitor— be careful with that one, because the Ark has a very broad opinion on what constitutes treason— and I do not lie. I hadn't so much as ever raised my hand in violence, except in practice, until I came to the ground." Cameron says firmly, and perhaps sincerely, "I… am an artist and a … political activist… I made art that was critical of the Chancellor and the Council— the leaders of the ark— I painted on walls, in protest of injustices— such as what was done to Devin— and was charged with destruction of property and disrupting the peace." He seems a little indignant for a moment, but he sighs, "We don't expect kindness, and we do not expect you to help us out of the goodness of your heart. As I said, we have preserved much knowledge of the old world. You saw our medicine. That is only the beginning." That said, he shrugs slightly and gives a defensive looking smile at Morgan, "I didn't say anything secret. They won't trust us if they don't know us, and I have nothing to hide."

Gideon is entirely nonplussed by the accusation Morgan throws her way. She holds up her hands as the talk turns to the Ark and its laws. "Did you break your people's laws?" The question is delivered simply, perhaps even bluntly. She looks at both in turn, waiting quietly. "Did you destroy another's property, were you intending to disturb the peace?" She looks at Morgan, not knowing what he has done yet. "And you?"

"We can be as open with them as they are with us." Morgan tells Cam. And since they barely have… "I avenged my parents." he tells Gideon, the coolness back given the subject. "Whether it was against the law is irrelevant. Doing something that breaks a law doesn't make it wrong. Doing something that is not outlawed doesn't make it right. Anyone can make a law and enforce it if they have enough weapons."

"I did nothing that could not be undone; the damage could be repaired, the walls cleaned. I did not intend to /disturb the peace/ as much as I was intending to inspire the people and make them think." Cameron shrugs slightly, not seeming the least bit remorseful, "I broke laws that should not be. As Devin did, when he was born in violation of the law. Not all law is sacrosanct." Then he sighs, lifting a hand to run through his hair, and then pat it back into place, "I'm not perfect. I was a child rebelling against the Ark because I couldn't *breathe* there. I couldn't *live* there, there in that place with metal walls and no room to run." When Morgan mentions avenging his parents, Cam reaches leans into him and reaches his other hand across to squeeze Morgan's own. "We aren't saying there should be no laws, or that there should not be a punishment for a violation— but *justice* matters, too."

Gideon shakes her head, and for a moment there is a flash of genuine frustration in her eyes. "Again… excuses…" She waves her hand dismissively. "Not once have I heard one of your people simply say 'Yes, I broke the laws of my people.' You will cast blame on everyone around you, but never consider whether or not you also carry blame. I have your people speak of murdering another with such casual disregard, and then wave about words like injustice as if that merely turns blood into red paint." Her head bows slightly, and her jaw flexes as she looks at Morgan. "Whether or not it was against the law is relevant. Our laws our relevant. If you cannot obey the laws from where you came from, why should we believe you will obey ours?" She crosses her arms, looking at both boys.

Oh good, this are escalating. Grimm had been off int he apple orchard and emerges with an apple in hand, several bites already taken from it, and another apple in his off hand. His head is currently hooded and he slows as he hears Gideon's tone, brow furtive as he cants his head to the side and watches Morgan and Cameron. He takes a few steps towards Gideon, speaking up in a quiet tone, "<In Trigedasleng> Everything alright?"

"If it hurts someone I care about, I won't." Morgan answers bluntly, gazing straight at Gideon. "So if you have any of those, tell me now so I can stay far away."

Cameron doesn't look upset at her frustration, and says simply, "Because if we do not you will punish us. And because the others on the Ark did obey their laws or they would be dead. The 100 are few, and were children all when they broke the law— by our ways, we do not hold children as irredeemable." He does nod slightly to Morgan, "He has a point. I've heard of laws repeatably but not what they are."

Gideon scoffs, and for once all she finds herself empowered from all the boring debate Wren has engaged her in over the years. "There is no such thing as perfect justice… there will always be someone who is unhappy when the final call is made… but a call must be made. That is what it means to lead… to make a call and then to stand by it because it serves the people not a person." She shakes her head now, and her gaze falls on Grimm as he nears. His quiet words still her a moment, and she is able to find some calm. "You do not take any action that threatens another, threatens the village, or threatens the clan. The Coalition carry the word of the Heda, and from her to the clan chiefs, and from them to the village chiefs. Murder, theft, treason… these things are all punishable, but never is justice carried out without judgment." Then she speaks softly to Grimm, "<In Trigedasleng> Trying to understand, but perhaps I'm not meant to."

Watching warily as Gideon replies to Morgan and Cameron, Grimm keeps his distance from them for the moment. When she is done, he bites into his apple with a crunch once more, holding out the other one towards Gideon, "<In Trigedasleng> Hungry?" This will fix everything! He doesn't speak on laws. Gideon apears to have that side of this conversation in hand. Instead he's going to watch like a creeper.

Morgan shrugs at what Gideon says. He has no problem with any of it. "That's fine. I wasn't planning to and I'm sure Cam wasn't either. We'd much rather help your people. It's a better way of doing things than killing each other for the hell of it. Like I said, we have a lot to teach each other." The crunch of an apple gets his attention and he finally looks over, nodding once to acknowledge Grimm before looking back to Gideon.

Cameron nods with Morgan, also not having any problems with the declarations, Cameron tilts his head, looking curiously at Gideon, "I do not see us having any difficulty with those laws… but it is your people who named us skaikru. The Sky Clan. We have our own leader, our own warriors — real warriors, not the half-trained kids we have now. We are seeking peace and trade. Do you expect us to be subject to your Heda's authority? I mean, our ..clan is not in your … Coalition, right?" So much new information his eyes are bright with interest. "I'm not saying one way or another what we'll do— what we'll agree to or what will happen in the future— I don't speak for the 100, let alone the Ark or the Chancellor. I'm just … me. And, I'm just trying to understand what you expect of us."

Martin exits The Seat and scans the village as he walks into the fresh air. Spotting Cameron and Morgan engaging two Grounder sin debate, he decides to stop by and see what the discussion is about. As he draws closer, he notes that the conversation is very similar to a conversation that Cass and he had with Wren and Gideon. Only this time neither Cass or he are present, so who knows what has or hasn't been said? Maybe they're careening down two different paths. Suddenly very curious, he offers a wave in greeting and introduces himself to Grimm, "Ai laik Martin kom Skaikru."

Something about Cameron's words catch Grimm's attention and he turns to eye him, "So what you are saying, Sky boy, is that your one hundred have no actual power to make an accord with the Trikru? That your Ark and Chancellor will want to have their own voice when they arrive?" He cants his head and looks to Gideon, "<In Trigedasleng> We bargain with boys and expect them speak as men." A scoff, mild but present is given. It's entirely likely that Oxfor already knows about this, but Grimm seems set on making a big deal out of it now. As to Martin, he is given a quick glance and a nod, "I am called Grimm." Apparently he isn't in the mood to acknowledge the attempt Martin makes to follow his customs of introduction. Or he's trying to use the Skaikru customs as he understands them.

"No, that's not what he's saying." Morgan counters. "We're in contact with the Ark and the Chancellor and he's aware of you and the potential summit. And Cam, you need to know when to stop talking."

"I don't think that is what they said Grimm, or what they meant." Gideon looks at her fellow Trikru, and shakes her head. "But, I cannot say for certain." Then she looks back at Morgan and Cameron. She nods vaguely at Morgan, but then looks to Cameron with her brows lifted. But then there's Martin, and her attention slides to him. She offers a faint nod. "Gideon."

"No." Cameron shakes his head, blinking, "I said nothing of the sort. I said _I_ do not speak for anyone. I am not one of the three chosen by the 100 to represent us at the summit. The Chancellor said he will rely upon the 100 to establish peace and will follow our guidance with the Trikru, because we're the ones here, making the relationship. We're in contact with the Ark now." That said, he turns a quick smile of greeting to Martin, then he turns an annoyed look at Morgan, "That's twice."

Martin eyes Cam and organ, offering them a nod of greeting as well, then he turns his attention to Grimm and smiles, "It is a pleasure to meet you, Grimm. While we are not members of the Council, as Morgan has said, they are aware of the circumstances we are in, and they trust our actions in this matter, since they are not here. And Cameron is correct, none of the three of us have the voice to speak for our people. We have selected representatives for us to speak." His green eyes shift to Gideon and he nods, "We met before when Cassandra was trying to convince you to show her herbs."

Grimm seems somewhat unconvinced by the look on his face, but offers a vague nod, "We shall see. It does not seem worth an argument if you do not actually speak for any of your people in any way. You say that they will honor terms, but you clearly have no actual ability to say anything. So we shall simply wait and see?" And with that, he goes back to eating his apple.

"Martin." Morgan greets but then drops his arm and turns to look at Cam. "Yes, that's twice." he agrees flatly then runs his hand over his hair. Obviously deciding to drop it, he looks back to the Grounders. There's a pouch at his belt and he opens and tilts it to pour some things into his other hand. "After the fight where my friends freed us, we took what we needed. Weapons, armor." The jacket he's wearing. "But there was something else that I'd like to return to you." he tells Gideon. "I don't know who owned them but if you could find out and return them to the family?" Course, she might know already who owned them. Holding out his hand, there's several marbles on his palm.

"As you don't have authority to speak for your chief. Same thing." counters Cameron to Grimm with a slight shrug and a cool tone of his voice and a shake of his head, "Doesn't mean you can't tell the truth of your people as you know it." He's not bothered by the exchange, though he's still eyeing Morgan with a bit of annoyance, though its milder.

Martin looks then to Cameron, "Has Grimm said anything, though, that indicates he has attempted to speak for the Staheda?" He hasn't heard anything, but he only just arrived. "But what you say is true. Speaking what you know is not the same as speaking for our people. Just as any of the Trikru telling us of our ways is not the same as speaking for the Staheda. It is a balancing act to recognize what our limits are as individuals." While he is saying this to Cameron, it is more likely being said for Grimm's benefit, as a conciliatory statement and an attempt soothe over the situation.

Fiona makes her way to the village center. She's coming from the orchard with a basket of apples in her hands, talking with a couple of the Trikru girls, when she sees the cadre of boys from the dropship. With a quiet word to the girls, she heads over, the basket at rest against her hip.

"Of course not, and neither have I said anything that indicates I speak for the ours. That's my point. Just because I am not leader, doesn't mean there's no truth to what I say." replies Cameron to Martin with a slight negative shake of his head. He stretches, and rubs at his face, "I'm going to go for a walk around the village. Say Hi at people."

A glance is spared by Grimm for Morgan while Cameron continues to defend himself and he offers a quick smirk, "You're people are quite easily riled up. So defensive." a nod is given, "You said it well, sometimes you need to know when to not talk." He takes another bite of his apple and looks to Cameron, still wearing an idle smirk.

"He just wants an alliance between our people. There's worse things." Morgan says immediately and looks over at Cam. "See you later?"

Martin comments to Grimm, "Defensiveness comes with the our lot in life and the uncertainty of our surroundings and situation. We don't mean to cause intentional offense." He looks then to Cameron and gives an understanding nod. It sucks being the guy thrown under the bus in order to appease others. Spotting Fiona, he offer sher a wave to join them and suggests to Cam, "Maybe check out the orchard? They might let you have an apple or two." Which honestly sounds delicious, now that Martin is watching Grimm continually bite into one.

Fiona's gaze slides between the departing Cam, to Grimm, and then Morgan. "Problem?" she asks, tossing him an apple. She offers a nod of her head to Grimm. "Heya. Ai laik Feyona kom Skaikru. Spek gonasleng?" Asking politely if he speaks English.

Cameron, who isn't even slightly riled up, or perturbed, or upset, or even emotional at all, shakes his head with a snort, "You have an active imagination." is all he has to say about that to Grimm, before he nods to Morgan, "Of course." And he blinks at Martin, "Huh. Will look." And off he's going.

Grimm, still bemused, doesn't respond to Cameron and just offers Morgan a shrug, "Thick skin helps out here." He takes another bite of his apple, and then he shakes his head at Martin, "No offense given. I push things and see what happens." Fiona, speaking in his own tongue earns a quirked brow, "<In Trigedasleng> I speak English. How much of our tongue do you understand, Fiona of the Sky People?"

Morgan catches the apple in his free hand. "Hey Fi. No, problem. Just learning about each other." Since Gideon got pulled away again, he closes his hand around the marbles and waits till she gets back. When Fiona speaks more than just the standard intro in their language, he looks surprised.

A second apple is plucked up from Fiona's basket and tossed to Martin with a grin before she addresses Grimm. "Not as much as I'd like." she says easily. "But I listen, and a few people have been kind enough to teach me some words and things to say. I want to make sure we are respectful at the summit. Making an effort to learn the language shows that, I hope." There's a tilt of her head. "Sorry, I didn't get your name?"

Martin catches his apple as well and bites into it readily, since now he is really craving an apple. Mmmmmmm. Talking while he chews, he says, "We /really/ need to get some of these back to Cookie to see what she can do with them." They need an oven for apple pie STAT! He quiets and looks between Fiona dn Grimm as she takes the lead on conversing with the man about his language. Looking to Morgan, he shrugs, "She picks it up quick."

"Yeah, I see that." Morgan agrees. He looks over the apple then slips into his jacket pocket for later. "So there's an apple… umm, farm? Whatever they're called? Any other kinds of fruit?"

"Ai laik Grimm kom Trikru." Grimm replies with a nod to Fiona as she explains where she learned their language, "You speak it well. That is good." He looks over to them as the speak about the apples and nods to the orchard, "I do not think one basket would be missed." A good will gesture perhaps. He pauses and eyes Morgan, "Greedy, eh?" he grins. He doesn't actually say what else there is.

"Just a few trees," Gideon says as she steps back into the gathering having tended to whatever business she had elsewhere. "I suppose you could call it a small orchard." She looks at Grimm as if to see if he agrees with her word. Then she looks to Fiona and her basket, head tilted curiously.

Martin looks to Grimm at the greedy comment and adds, "I think what was meant is that it is good to know what can be cultivated. We may try to save the seeds and grow our own. Teach a man to fish rather than give him a fish, as it were." He takes another bite and loses himself to the bliss. Oh, why didn't they have apples on the Ark?

"Thank you. I mean, mochof." says Fionaa with a grin. Catching Gideon's look, she explains, "A couple of the Trikru girls said I could come with them and help. These are amazing…we've only ever seen apples in books and films and such before this. Never actually tasted them until now. There's a lot of things we know about, but haven't actually experienced."

"No, curious." Morgan responds. "On the Ark, we used hydroponics to grow food. Knowing what grows down here is something we need to know. The farmers are probably searching the computers for and everything else they can think of that before they come down but it doesn't hurt to find out by asking." Martin's got it. Now that Gideon's returned, he steps forward to offer the marbles.

Gideon blinks when the marbles are offered to her, and she takes them. She weighs the bag carefully, looking at the familiar orbs within. Then she nods silently to Morgan, as if conveying an understanding. Then she moves to hook it on her belt. "I will see to them," she says softly. Then she shrugs a bit. "These trees have been with us since the beginning."

"There are others you can ask about farming. Gideon and I are not farmers." Grimm states with a shrug and finishes off the apple he was eating. "Though I would warn you not to ask too many questions. This treaty is good. Do not pester for too many answers before an official peace is agreed to." As in, we aren't giving you all of our secrets right now.

Martin watches the exchange of marbles with curiosity as he was not present for the events that led to Morgan coming into their possession. Looking to Grimm and Gideon he nods, "Still, yo have more experience with apples than we do. This is my first time." He takes another bite of the fruit and seems ready to be like Devin and go native. Looking to Fiona and the basket, he asks a bit quieter, "Can I have another?"

Morgan nods back to Gideon. He doesn't need them and they probably mean something to the dead Grounder's family. "So it turns out we didn't need you after all." he tells Fi and Martin. "Better to be safe though. Silver and I are probably going to stay till they're all recovered but any of you who want to head back to camp are welcome to do so. Though sticking around to eat apples is probably a good choice."

Fiona over-hands another apple to Martin amiably, explaining, "Everything we have - had, on the Ark? It was used, over and over again. We saw the same places, the same people, ate the same things, saw the same colors, every single day."

Gideon listens to Fiona and the other skaikru with a sort of rapt attention. "I don't know what you mean… hydroponics." She shakes her head slightly.

Grimm hmmms quietly and looks over the teens. He offers a nod to Fiona, "<In Trigedasleng> Good to meet you, Fiona of the Sky People. Try not to eat all your apples here, save some for the trip back." He scratches at his chin and nods to Martin and Morgan, "I will see you. The apples don't keep too long. make sure to eat them soon." And with that, he starts off towards the direction of the bridge.

Martin readily takes the second apple and bites into it while still working on the first. Martin may not stay skinny for long if he keeps eating like this. After swallowing his mouthful, he looks to Gideon, "Hydroponics is how you have to grow food in the sky. We don't have much dirt, so you have grow it in water instead." He then waves with a hand holding an apple to Grimm, "It was nice meeting you, Grimm kom Trikru!"

Martin adds to Morgan, "Well, it has been a learning experience, so it was good to come along. And I think eating apples is always a good decision." Martin Worley is the Samuel Adams of apples.

Morgan nods to Fiona as she heads off then turns back. "Good to meet you." he tells Grimm. He's about to answer Gideon when Martin beats him to it. "Yes, it has been interesting in many ways."

Gideon's brows arch in genuine curiosity now. "Growing plants in water?" Then she shakes her head a bit slightly, trying to wrap her brain around that. It doesn't seem to be a successful attempt, but at least she tried. She nods as Grimm moves off, and then she looks back at the Skaikru.

Martin nods at the curiosity as he works on some more apple, the juice of fruit dripping down his chin a bit. He wipes it away with the back of his wrist. "Yeah, only certain plants can be used that way and it is difficult. They don't grow as well as they do down here. I think. I don't know much about it, as I wasn't one of the food farmers." He has already identified himself as a herb farmer, so best not to say he hasn't a farmer at all. As she stares at them, he pauses to think of something else to ask, "Do you have any instruments? For music?"

"I'm going to go check on the patients." Morgan tells the others. Not any kind of farmer, he can't add anything. "See you later."

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