[ Prince (King now?) Roan of Azgeda woke to flashing lights and blaring alarms, foreign to all of it, having only glimpsed things like this when he skirted the edges of Skaikru camps, and that's where his mind goes - Arkadia and their ilk. Those still so angry with the Ice Nation for his mother's terrorism, and given the only one of them that knows him, and knows he isn't so thirsty for their death, is Clarke. And Clarke is not here.
Quickly as he can, the grounder launches from his belted seat, grabs his pack, and flees, regardless of others landed with him. It's some time later that he returns, moving through tree branches in silence, and he spents hours watching the camp, waiting for movement, for a scouting group to check their supplies, their prey, whatever he was meant to be. after none so, he salvages. wires to bind with, belting, a knife from a pack left behind, jagged shards of twisted metal. his swords are gone, but royalty in Azgeda is not pampered. If anything, he's been made to endure more of the harshness of the wilds, and spent plenty of his life in banishment learning how to make somethings out of nothings.
Some time later, Roan waits in the trees not far from the Skaikru city, watching the others mill around, observing. Learning. Listening, to the chatter in the earpiece he was left. He'll speak eventually, but not yet. Not now.
Instead, he hears the cracking of leaves and twigs beneath him, spotting one of those things - like Beserkers, but rotted. Disgusting. He'd killed several already, turned the corpses over and examined them, before leaving. The one below stalks in a gross hobble, after something else.
One of the city people.
He watches, for a long moment, doing nothing, until it gets close enough that a couple running steps and a lunge would see the stranger dead. Roan considers letting it happens. Thinks he ought to, rather than give himself up here. But he still finds himself jumping down, the tie from the tree slowing his fall and making it silent, so all that's heard is the wet thunk of the end of a spear being shoved through the back of the abomination's skull. Roan drags it to the ground with a jerk of the wooden end, boot pressed to the back of it's neck as he pulls his weapon free, bits of skull and brain matter sticking to it grossly. ]
You tell your people nothing of me, or you end up the same.
[ he hasn't glanced up at them yet, but the warning is given quickly and quietly, in case this one came out with a partner. ]
NETWORK PROMPT (AUDIO OBV);
Wanheda.
[ the voice comes gravely and deep over the comms, the kind of thing that sounds more growl than voice. there's a pause, and he breathes out, adding. ]
Clarke kom Skaikru. I speak to her and her alone.
[ He'd arrived here in a shuttle, strapped up in all it's metal while it's circuitry fried around him, and only one thing made sense with that - the sky people. the sky people who are hardly friendly with either Trikru or Azgeda. If Arkadia is the only resource for him to use right now, the only way he'll get to any answers is if Clarke vouches for him.
Here's hoping his recently willingness to help has won him some points. ]
Don't bother trying to find me without her. You won't.
[ Having to live among Trikru during his banishment has taught him some things about navigating trees. Don't expect to see him. ]
Roan | The 100 (spoilers for 3x04 below)
[ Prince (King now?) Roan of Azgeda woke to flashing lights and blaring alarms, foreign to all of it, having only glimpsed things like this when he skirted the edges of Skaikru camps, and that's where his mind goes - Arkadia and their ilk. Those still so angry with the Ice Nation for his mother's terrorism, and given the only one of them that knows him, and knows he isn't so thirsty for their death, is Clarke. And Clarke is not here.
Quickly as he can, the grounder launches from his belted seat, grabs his pack, and flees, regardless of others landed with him. It's some time later that he returns, moving through tree branches in silence, and he spents hours watching the camp, waiting for movement, for a scouting group to check their supplies, their prey, whatever he was meant to be. after none so, he salvages. wires to bind with, belting, a knife from a pack left behind, jagged shards of twisted metal. his swords are gone, but royalty in Azgeda is not pampered. If anything, he's been made to endure more of the harshness of the wilds, and spent plenty of his life in banishment learning how to make somethings out of nothings.
Some time later, Roan waits in the trees not far from the Skaikru city, watching the others mill around, observing. Learning. Listening, to the chatter in the earpiece he was left. He'll speak eventually, but not yet. Not now.
Instead, he hears the cracking of leaves and twigs beneath him, spotting one of those things - like Beserkers, but rotted. Disgusting. He'd killed several already, turned the corpses over and examined them, before leaving. The one below stalks in a gross hobble, after something else.
One of the city people.
He watches, for a long moment, doing nothing, until it gets close enough that a couple running steps and a lunge would see the stranger dead. Roan considers letting it happens. Thinks he ought to, rather than give himself up here. But he still finds himself jumping down, the tie from the tree slowing his fall and making it silent, so all that's heard is the wet thunk of the end of a spear being shoved through the back of the abomination's skull. Roan drags it to the ground with a jerk of the wooden end, boot pressed to the back of it's neck as he pulls his weapon free, bits of skull and brain matter sticking to it grossly. ]
You tell your people nothing of me, or you end up the same.
[ he hasn't glanced up at them yet, but the warning is given quickly and quietly, in case this one came out with a partner. ]
NETWORK PROMPT (AUDIO OBV);
Wanheda.
[ the voice comes gravely and deep over the comms, the kind of thing that sounds more growl than voice. there's a pause, and he breathes out, adding. ]
Clarke kom Skaikru. I speak to her and her alone.
[ He'd arrived here in a shuttle, strapped up in all it's metal while it's circuitry fried around him, and only one thing made sense with that - the sky people. the sky people who are hardly friendly with either Trikru or Azgeda. If Arkadia is the only resource for him to use right now, the only way he'll get to any answers is if Clarke vouches for him.
Here's hoping his recently willingness to help has won him some points. ]
Don't bother trying to find me without her. You won't.
[ Having to live among Trikru during his banishment has taught him some things about navigating trees. Don't expect to see him. ]