[mission: hyrypia] and when our bottles and all we are fill’d with immortality

[onemind]

CHARACTERS: The Barithian Hunters (and anyone sneaking along)
WHERE: Hyrypia - The Finger Maze
WHEN: DAY :018
SUMMARY: The barithian hunt leads into the depths of the Finger Maze.
WARNINGS: Violence. Animal slaughter. Character death. Need a warning added? PM this account please!

THE FINGER MAZE
DAY :018
IN MORNING'S PRE-DAWN GRAY the camp is far more subdued than on preceding days. There's no music, breakfast is a quiet and simple affair, and the servants are hushed as they go about their duties. Before the sun has even fully risen, the members of the Envoys participating in the hunt make their way to their mounts. When they arrive they are given a speech that seems practiced - likely only a slight modification of something that the Elinmaster has said many times before. The group - just under forty hunters kitted out with all of the weapons and traps they have had time to learn in their days on the graze - is brought to the fenceline running parallel to the technomagical barrier which guards the mouth of the Finger Maze proper. In the fence is a plain gate. Once the hunting party is gathered there, it opens. A slash in the technomagical barrier disintegrates before them and the smell of ozone evaporates or is carried into the twisting depths of the Maze by the wind howling mournfully inward from off the Graze. The Elinmaster leads the hunting party through the gap.

Once on the other side, the party draws pauses until the technomagical barrier rises once more behind them. No crowds today. No onlookers (unless they're being especially industrious). Then the Elinmaster brings a familiar sounding horn to their lips. It's long, low wailing note echoes down into the maze and splinters down the endless twisting pathways. With that, the hunt begins.

INTO THE LABYRINTH
I. THE STAGING GROUND
HERE IS HOW YOU HUNT A BARITHIAN, explains the Elinmaster. First, a field of battle needs to be chosen - and it's always better to know the ground you're fighting on than to be caught unawares in unfamiliar territory. The hunting party will need to establish a fall back position inside the canyon that's advantageous to them, at which point it will be lain with all manner of traps. Memorize it. You'll want to know every nook and cranny when you return here under duress.

Plan your routes and lay your traps. You do remember how to set them, don't you?


II. BY THE TAIL
WITH THE STAGE SET, only the star is lacking - or the villain is. But the Finger Maze is a vast labyrinthine space that stretches on for miles. Finding the Barithian, even as large as it is, presents a challenge - perhaps the second greatest challenge of the hunt. It is time for the hunters to separate. Some go off alone, some travel in small groups. Each is equipped with a small version of the horn that had summoned them to this work in the first place. Their task is simple and herculean: to search the maze for signs of the beast and locate it, then to draw its attention and lure it back into the staging ground. Lastly, they must send out the call to summon the rest of the party to rendezvous meet them where the chase will end. However, only one route leads to the barithian. Perhaps--

a) There were signs - a bone, a tell-tale scrape on the canyon walls, a corridor of felled coral. It was difficult to tell from the back of the Elin, so it made sense in the moment to dismount and check more closely. --At least, it made sense right up until now when you suddenly hear something. Something-- big. Its footfalls shake the floor under your feet; its heavy breath snorts out of its multiple sets of nostrils with a wet visceral sound. You can’t go back the way you came - the trembling footfalls seem to come from that direction. Luckily, there's a narrow cave opening in the canyon wall right there.

Inside is dark. The cave goes very deep indeed - so deep that after a time you can smell the promise of fresh air again. Maybe there's another exit? Which is good, since the way you entered is no longer an option: the beast is there, it's massive forepaws clawing into the stone on either side of the cave entrance and its huge mutli-nostriled nose sucking in big, gulping breaths.

b) ((OOC NOTE: first come first serve)) You find the Barithian. Even with its great hulking back turned to you, it's awe-inspiring. Terrifying. The Elinmaster's assistants had described it on the way in, but their words failed to convey the details. It's disturbingly massive - mammothian, even -, its six legs coiled tight with muscle, and strong, sharp claws on each of the massive paws. You have to get it’s attention. How you do it is up to you, but you know that the moment it turns its massive head toward you with its beady eyes hidden behind a broad, triangular face plate and its multinostrils flaring with a horrible groaning noise that it's time to get a move on.

c) Your search has turned up nothing - but that's not surprising is it? The maze is huge. Not everyone could strike gold. Hell, not everyone would even want to. It’s almost a relief until you hear it: the low, moan of the signal horn echoing through the maze-like canyon. You need to get back to the staging ground and you need to go fast - or risk leaving the other hosts to face the beast alone.

III. THE BATTLE
THE HORN DOES ITS JOB. By the time the hosts unlucky enough to have the tiger by its tail come riding back into the staging ground, many members of the hunting party have already returned and are armed, if not ready, for when the creature comes barreling in behind them. It shakes the brittle bone coral with the weight of its galloping footfalls and makes a deep, low sonorous noises that echoes down the stone walls. With its ire raised, the barithian is even more fearsome than it had seemed from a distance. It’s size and strength are undeniable up close. The creature tears great mounds of earth up under its clawed feet and there's a mesmerizing, horrific quality to the flash of filtered canyon light off its sharp teeth.

The riders are now tasked with the last phase of the challenge - kill or be killed, using the weapons and techniques they have learned in their time here. And hey, maybe you have a few non-Hyrypian tricks up your sleeves you can play with some subtlety. Fighting fair seems less than ideal when one of those huge paws comes swiping right at you.


IV. THE FRUIT OF DIPLOMACY
'DON'T GET CLOSE TO THE HEAD,' had seemed like an easy to follow rule back on the Graze, but the reality of facing down with the barithian is far more complicated. And despite being slowed by the environment, the traps laid for it, countless spears jutting from its dense marbled hide, here in its last moments the great beast is at its most dangerous. Maybe someone gets over confidant. Maybe it's just general exhaustion. Maybe it seems like the barithian is staggering when really it's turning for one final, deadly snap of its ferocious jaws.

It bowls three riders from their Elin with one swipe from its massive paw - mechanics twisting and bursting with brilliant flares of released technomagical energy - then lunges for the felled hunters left in the wake of their ruined mounts. A Descendant throws up both arms in some lunatic, useless defense mechanism. Beside her, Lavellan drives the blunt end of his spear into the ground and braces the shaft across his knee. The Barithian drives itself down on the point of the spear, snaps down on his arm by reflex and then recoils - tossing him clear like a horrifying rag doll as the great animal thrashes.

There's an immediate, palpable, indescribable POP! A ship being hulled and all the air sucked out of into into the vacuum of space. A glass bauble splitting into a hundred thousand pieces on some distant stone floor. A seam splitting. A branch snapped across the knee. And then there's nothing left at all except the frothing barithian snapping out those nearest i to it.


V. THE RETURN
THE RIDE BACK TO THE CAMP seems to take twice as long as the one they took to the Finger Maze - though it hardly seems long enough, knowing what lies at the end. Certainly the other Hosts will have felt Lavellan's death, but you know what they say. Seeing is believing.

It doesn’t matter. The camp awaits their return regardless. As they ride through the gate again one of the massive technomagically driven wagons passes them, headed into the maze to retrieve their kill. Once they reach the edges of the encampment, the atmosphere there remains subdied. While the other Envoys and Hyrypian hosts might not know the nitty gritty details, the certainly seem to have considered the possibility of things going badly. There is food, drink, and eventually even some gentle, sober music, however the evening is quiet and many of the envoys retreat to their own tents rather than remain in the public spaces.

Some victories are not celebrated.

---

((OOC Notes: This log covers the barithian hunt and any relating events that take place on DAY :018. You can find information about the hunt and ask event specific questions HERE.

Have more generalized questions? Drop them on the MISSION: HYRYPIA OOC POST or get in touch with us on the Mod Contact page.))

NAVIGATION • GAME CALENDAR • MISSION: HYRYPIA • FAQ
• MOD CONTACT • GLOSSARY

( CODE BY WHAMBAM )

Comments

ota.

[deployed]

( i / preparations )

[ This event has more gravity attached to it than the earlier ones. The band does not play, no one sings, and everyone is talking so quietly that it feels like disaster is about to strike. Bellamy was aware of the shift in mood as he dressed in the tent, and he wishes again that he'd brought the guns Murphy got for him. It had felt foolish to hide them on his person, like an easy giveaway, but without clear knowledge of what this final event holds, the extra security would be a comfort.

Once he leaves the tent, he doesn't go very far until the participants are called to their Elins. He'll ping at the minds of each passing Nestmate, just checking in. It's early, and sleep still clings to people's minds as they prepare. Quiet dread is simmering beneath the surface of Bellamy's mind, though all he ever asks to those who stop to speak with him is: ]

Are you ready to mount up?

( ii / the hunt )

iia.

[ Find Bellamy by the staging area. He's been helping a cluster of Meradans secure traps, and circulating through the few Carpathans he had familiarized himself with at the Naerstone House. He's nervous, which is obvious to anyone who touches his mind.

He'll circle back to any members of the Nest to check on them and their progress, or if they ping his mind accordingly. Pester him, or for spectators, link into his brain now. ]

iib.

[ The groups split. Bellamy's group finds nothing but dead end after dead end. It's uneventful. Whether or not that's a good thing probably depends on which member of this hunting party you asked. Bellamy's palpably frustrated, and he draws off towards another member of the Nest. ]

( Do you think they have a plan for if we aren't able to flush it out? )

( iii / aftermath )

[ It had been a while since Bellamy had gotten truly banged up like this. He'd emerged from Concorida and Waypoint relatively unscathed. Sparring on the Station never escalated to the point of drawing blood. And he's aware he's been lucky. None of his garments have ripped, but his entire body is aching. There's places where his robes are sticking to his skin, and he suspects he's either bleeding or sweating. There won't be a way to tell until he starts stripping down. Having seen Lexa and Clarke back to each other, he moves blindly for the first tent belonging to their people in his eye-line. Asuka's grief is raging to near-blinding levels in the back of his head, compounding the adrenaline and terror of the fight itself.

He needs to lay down. But what he has are shaky hands and helpless, useless anger of his own. Bellamy remembers Anakin being swallowed up by flame. That had been just as excruciating as feeling Lavellan wink out of existence beneath the crushing weight of their prey. In the moment, Bellamy had felt like he were dying. It had been impossible to separate his own consciousness from Lavellan's.

Inside the tent, Bellamy takes a few deep breaths, chest heaving, the kicks the nearest bedroll across the tent. No expletive can really express what he's feeling. Pain and displaced grief and fury are choking him. His hands are clumsy when they rise to his veils, curses muffled as he tries to get it all off without tearing. ]

>> aftermath

[otrazhenie]

[ The one good thing about her past? Elena's used to things trying to kill her. Not giant monsters on alien worlds, of course, but the adrenaline rush and fear had been just the same. But actually feeling the loss of a member of the Nest? That one's new, and coping with it is something she's trying very hard not to do at the moment.

Pain and grief are everywhere, though, filtering through so many of the connections in her mind that they are impossible to ignore. She chooses one that she recognizes and follows that link to one of their tents, stepping inside carefully with a wave of concern heralding her arrival, followed by Elena removing her own veils. ]

I'm not gonna ask if you're okay, I already know that answer. But are you hurt?

[deployed]

[ There hadn't been time to process Anakin's death. Bellamy had been seconds away from being caught in his own undercover operation, and he'd used his symbiote power seconds later. It had been enough of a distraction to tide him through the worst of the loss. But here, Lavellan's death has wedged into his chest. It won't be so easily shaken, especially in the aftermath of their victory. He takes a deep breath as he turns to Elena, letting her concern settle in against his mind. ]

It's not that bad, [ Bellamy tells her. Watching her take off her veil reminds him to lift his own away from his face. ] There were other people carried out of that canyon who had it worse.

[ Not just Lavellan. There had been other injuries. Bellamy had been aware of them, even if his priority had been getting to Lexa and getting them both off the field once he'd realized the Darkling and Shiro were both safe. ]

Are you alright?

[otrazhenie]

[ Grief is an old friend of Elena's, one who she knows intimately and is on a first-name basis with. It's been over a year of grief being an unwelcome guest in her life, and she's not about to leave the others in the Nest to deal with it alone. Not if she can help it, anyway. Focusing her energy on helping others is a much better use of her time than wallowing in her own pain, after all. ]

I heal fast.

[ Whether the question was about her physical or mental state, the answer still applies. Whatever injuries she might have sustained during the hunt would be long healed by now, and the grief she's feeling... She'll survive it. She always does. ]

I know some of the others had it worse, but they're being take care of. Who's helping you?

[deployed]

[ The sentiment Elena puts forth isn't unfamiliar, but it's not easy for Bellamy to acquiesce to. It's never going to be easy for him to take the help he's offered without some measure of hesitation. He pushes his veils the rest of the way back, letting them drop to the floor of the tent. It's easier to breathe without them masking his face. He doesn't answer until he's taken a few deep breaths, and felt the answering flare of pain in his body. ]

I don't think it's anymore than bruises. I hit the side of the canyon at one point.

[ Or he was thrown. Same thing. He rubs a hand down his face, then sits down slowly. ]

But I don't heal as fast as I think you're talking about.

[ Not that he'd let Sam help him out. He tips his head at Elena, inviting her to take the seat beside him as he starts opening the front of his robe to press careful fingers to his ribs. ]

[otrazhenie]

[ For some people, offering help is a thousand times easier than accepting it--they have that in common. She watches his expression closely as he removes his veils, takes those breaths, sits. Any slight indication of pain is noted, and she has a feeling that he won't accept her offer, but she's still going to put it forth.

Sitting beside him, she keeps her movements fluid and careful, trying not to jostle him in case there's more damage that he suspects. That's the thing about adrenaline and emotional pain: you don't always notice the physical aches until you're made to. ]

I could heal you too, if you'd let me. I did it for Shiro the other day.

[deployed]

[ The expression on her face almost makes him laugh. He's seen the exact same look on Clarke's face more than once. She's assessing. Elena is different in so many ways, but Bellamy can see that she's used to looking after people. Maybe she didn't come from a world engulfed in a war, but she's seen people hurt.

And she makes the same offer Sam had, once. Bellamy glances at her as he works off his gloves, eyebrow raised. ]

What's the catch?

[ He knows how Sam's healing works. It's a shell game. It's trading his pain away and letting someone else carry it. Bellamy assumes Elena's healing works the same way. Nothing comes to them freely. There's always a catch. There's always some kind of penalty with powers like theirs.

It doesn't occur to him that Elena might have something else to offer. What he knows of vampires is Damon's teeth in Lakshmi's neck. That hadn't been Elena, but the skillset must be the same. ]

iib.

[wille]

[ Misato should be more nervous than she is -- but then nerves is only the flip side of focus where both are states of high alertness. Thrill is the other side of the coin from fear. That the search has proved uneventful so far doesn't ease the determination with which she scours every rock and pebble for signs of their quarry. On foot for better clarity, with her Elin held by the reins. She turns to Bellamy with the sense of a smile, goaded and amused. ]

( They already showed us their plan. )

[ She gestures back toward the domed barrier stretching high into the sky. ]

( I don't doubt that thing will stay up until we get the job done, or die trying. )

[deployed]

( If everyone dies trying, it'll be a waste of a tournament. )

[ Unnecessarily bleak, but it feels like a rational concern to have. None of them had signed up for this event expecting this kind of challenge.

His pessimism turns to static where their minds touch. Misato's exhilaration is a dissonant note in the wake of the solemnity of the rest of their party. Bellamy could hook into the sensation more firmly, use it to keep his own misgivings at bay, but he doesn't. ]

( You aren't worried? )

[wille]

( Maybe it was never a tournament. )

[ She allows the bleak conclusion of that line of thought to hang in the air, before drawing in an audible exhale and squaring her shoulders. So they are fucked. So death may be the outcome intended. It doesn't mean she would stop fighting. It doesn't mean the fight is any less worth the effort. Her laughter is response enough to his question. She is defiant, and proud. ]

( I'm worried we won't be the one to find the beast. I'm worried it will take forever to find it and then it'll be past dinnertime by the time we get back. What else? )

[deployed]

[ Not a tournament, but a culling. Bellamy huffs, grip tightening on the reins of his Elin. Misato doesn't seem particularly concerned, which is helpful to Bellamy now. He's not afraid to die either, but his thoughts inevitably stray back to Clarke and Murphy, or ahead to Shiro and the Darkling. He has no interest in any of them feeling his death, so he'll have to be sure he stays alive even if this was all an elaborate trap.

But wouldn't it be a disaster if it were? Kill the strong, then leave the diplomats and politicians defenseless at the camp. Bellamy grits his teeth, and lets the suspicion pass from his mind. ]

( I think they'll hold the feast until we get back, so that's one thing you don't need to think about. )

[ The smile in his tone is obvious, warming his answer. ]

( You just want first crack at it? )

[ Typical, for Misato. Bellamy had been accused of running headfirst towards anything dangerous, but she was putting him to shame. ]

[wille]

[ No sign of the beast in this vicinity. With a well-planned swing of the leg she kicks a sizable rock down the path for no reason at all other than to see it roll off and away. A small release of pent-up frustration. ]

( I could tell you I don't care who kills the beast as long as we all get to go home safe -- but that would be a big fat lie. )

[ Despite the little stunt, she seems to wear a skip in her steps when she makes her way back to her Elin, gathering the reins in her hands to offer it to Bellamy that he might hold it steady for her to get back on the saddle. ]

( What are you here for? )

closed / murphy

[deployed]

[ As it turns out, Lexa is right. Clarke finds them, and Murphy doesn't. Bellamy can sense the threads between them pulling taut, straining as Murphy separates himself. It feels different than the storm cloud that had enveloped Murphy after Clarke's arrival. After Elena and Gildor's ministrations, Bellamy is almost tempted to lie down in their tent and sleep until morning rather than try to reel Murphy in, but it's not in Bellamy's nature to skirt away from a conflict. Of course he gets up. Of course he puts on layer after layer of veils and capes, and goes to seek Murphy out. It was a foregone conclusion. Bellamy won't be able to sleep despite his own exhaustion and conflict, until he's reassured himself of Murphy's presence.

Even before he finds Murphy, his mind is nudging lightly around the edges of Murphy's, unconsciously announcing his presence. There are so few people outside of their tents now that Murphy's easily spotted by the braziers. Bellamy doesn't make any pretense at stopping for food as he strides up to him.

But in the moment, he's uncertain of what exactly to say to him. Bellamy's hesitation spikes between them, before crosses his arms, shuffling a step closer to the fire. ]

I thought you'd have gone back to the tent.

[ With the rest of their people. The Nest had drawn in together. For once, Bellamy wasn't inclined to make any kind of performative effort at digging his heels in over it. ]

[wrackful]

[Of course Bellamy comes to find him. Pulled in on himself, withdrawn from the other hosts both in mind and body, Murphy would've thought any of them could get the message to leave him alone. He doesn't know if Bellamy's oblivious to it or actively ignoring it. He guesses the latter, and takes a moment to berate himself for staying in one spot long enough to be searched out.]

Yeah, well. Surprise.

[There should be more cutting remarks for Bellamy stating something which obviously wasn't the case. But this is all Murphy manages, dry and flat, too much energy drained out in grief or spent in trying to keep himself contained: the pulsing ache of scars and newer wounds alike all stirred enough to practically leave him trembling. He picks at the food on his plate. He stopped eating any of it a while ago.]

I'll be back later. You don't have to wait around.

[A last ditch attempt to get Bellamy to leave without saying more, pushing more. But he knows how unlikely it is to work.]

[deployed]

[ Something's wrong. Bellamy can feel it as he needles at Murphy's mind, seeking connection. Right now the links between them feel jagged and stunted. The lack of ease in their link is as much a tell as Murphy's full plate. Bellamy doesn't touch him, but he doesn't even consider leaving. He's not hungry, and he's exhausted, but there's no point in going back to the tent to keep trying to reestablish contact from a distance. ]

I don't mind waiting. [ Bellamy's tone is light, but it's clear he's prepared to dig in his heels. ] We can walk back when you're done eating.

[ There's a vibration between them. Bellamy has the sense if he applies enough pressure, it'll shatter across the surface of Murphy's mind. The memory of their time in jail flicks across his own mind as Bellamy's suspicions settle. ]

[wrackful]

[It doesn't work. Bellamy doesn't leave, doesn't stop prodding at the edges of Murphy's mind. It's enough to make him want to laugh. It's ridiculous. Bellamy is ridiculous, coming after him like this, knowing he's pushed him away, knowing how he can snap and lash out. Murphy can't figure out what Bellamy thinks he's going to achieve, and he tosses his plate to one side, gaze flat under the veil as he turns to look at him more directly.]

What do you want, Bellamy?

[deployed]

[ A short pause follows the question. Bellamy's learned to pick his words more carefully with Murphy in moments like these. He already understands he's needling towards a fight, but he's trying to be selective about the fight he does pick. ]

Tell me what's wrong.

[ Lexa had berated Bellamy for accepting the invitation into the canyon. But he thinks the crux of Murphy's anger is more complicated than that. ]

preparations

[sistershoggoth]

I hate riding these things.

[ She answers idly, but yeah. She swings a leg up, the Elin beneath her dancing nervously. The beasts have just enough of a real animal in them that they react to the otherworldly horror that emanates off of her. A fucking tentacle on horseback. Nyx had been helping to shield her, had a better report with the stupid things, but well. We know where he is: comatose in one of the tents. ]

But yeah, sure, fuck, let's go.

[ There's a lack of real attention in the way she speaks. Her eyes focused out into their upcoming hunting ground. ]

[deployed]

[ Bellamy hates them too. He'd rather have the ground under his feet, or the backseat of the Rover with Raven in the driver's seat. But instead they have finicky manufactured mounts. Bellamy's resignation spikes, underscoring the sentiment Annie's expressed. He agrees. ]

I don't think it matters if we get down once we're inside.

[ But what happened inside the canyon seemed like it as going to be difficult no matter their choice in transportation. ]

You okay?

[sistershoggoth]

Me?

[ She turns and gives him an incredulous look, the weight of which is obvious despite the veil over her face. She's expressive like that, even with a lot of her usual sprawling intensity dulled by a nice smooth layer of inebriation. She's spent her entire time with the host refusing to dull herself down or shield her thoughts, and now here she is: mellow and unobtrusive.

She's just fine. ]

I was raised for this suicide mission bullshit since I was an infant. It's great. I'm great. You're great.

Any more questions?

[deployed]

It's not great.

[ Bellamy's long past the point where he can pretend this situation is anything other than what it actually is. They're going to descend into the canyon and it's going to be a difficult, possibly bloody fight. Impossible doesn't register as a necessary descriptor, but Bellamy doesn't deny that it's going to be hard for them to deal with this last trial. This isn't a race and it's not the same as the hunt before. This is going to be something else entirely. Even if Bellamy's own read of the landscape had been different, he trusts the collective instincts of the Nest.

Annie's muted responses are their own warning. Bellamy doesn't think she's fine, but he doesn't think she's wrong in her apprehension. ]

I'll save the rest for when we're finished in the canyon.

[ Where he'll inevitably ask again if she's alright. ]

[sistershoggoth]

I'll be fine then too, bucko.

[ Flip, and dismissive, although... by the end of it her assertion that she is 'fine' is belied by the fact that Lakshmi carries her out of the canyon like a bride. She's more disappointed not to have been the one senselessly sacrificed to this mission, more than embarrassed about her departure from the field of battle. Also she wants a drink more than anything else, waiting for Gildor to come and put her back together. She's always bitching and moaning about 'fucking elf magic' but she thinks she's about ready after getting herself kicked across into the canyon wall.

And yet, all the same, ]

I'm fuckin' great, I'm fuckin' fine.

IMMEDIATE REACTION > AFTERMATH thx

[unsea]

[ part of their collectives dies within them, and the darkling has his arms literally full of a thrashing, redheaded girl-child when his mind collides with bellamy's. the shock of it, even for him, has wormed its way inside of his heart. left cold, bereft of a mind that was once tethered among them. he looks for bellamy, he digs metaphysical fingers into his shoulder and the back of his neck and menaces -- fearful, and hateful of that fear.

( the vision of a spiraling, ice-slick serpent; a great sea-dragon, laid bloodied at his feet within hours. taken for scales and spare parts. he has killed semi-mythical beasts, and nothing has piqued a feeling of dread as much as this one death has. anakin was terrible, aoba was worse. this one feels like a lost rib - he only feels it when he needs to breathe deeply. ) stay back from it, he commands wordlessly; whether he'll be heeded or not, and oh, if he's not heeded -- don't you dare put yourself in danger for anyone else. not you, it can't be you. ]

wow bye

[unsea]

[ the darkling confronts shiro first, before he allows himself to go near bellamy.

there are others who see to his broodmate, after all. ( the measure of jealousy, of chilly distaste that wells within him is possession, pure and simple. he avoids bellamy, likely because he wishes to punish him. it's punishing for him, too, though he won't admit to it. ) clarke and murphy and lexa know him well, know him because of time and experience, but they're not as bound up in bellamy as his own broodmate is. so, when he finds him, later and long after the excitement and the despair has dwindled into dull aches and a sharp void among the collective -- he stands back, away from him. forcing distance where he doesn't wish it to be, where it shouldn't be.

where it may have to be. ]

( I hope that you don't blame yourself. )

[deployed]

[ In the heat of the moment, the Darkling clamping down on his mind had nearly made Bellamy's knees buckle. The desperation of it linger in the back of his head as he drags Shiro to safety, clutches Lexa's wrist as they make their way back to Clarke. The Darkling settles back into his mind after Elena, after Murphy, when Bellamy's still exhausted but couldn't lay down until he's checked in on everyone.

The Darkling is not outside his tent. Bellamy, beneath the drape of his veil, steps outside to answer the tugging need to close the distance between them. ]

( Not this time. ) [ Because if now isn't the moment for grim humor, then when is? ] ( Do you? )