Death and Co. // THE 100

suicide mission

[CHAPTER 8]

[A BAND OF MERRY MEN]

There were a few reasons why Atlas had so willingly agreed (begged) to join Clarke on her mission to find Jasper Jordan. For starters, he needed to let off some steam, and if that meant getting into a tussle with a grounder or a two headed deer, he'd definitely take his chances. His anger was bubbling and at this point he would take any opportunity he could to release it in a way that was as productive as possible. 

Secondly, he was on fricken earth. Sure, some murderous and potentially mutated survivors were running around spearing kids in the chest, but Atlas wanted to see more of what earth had to offer. The trees and dirt that littered their campsite was amazing, but there were flowers and animals and other types of natural beauties his curious self had yet to see. Perhaps he'd discover some new creature and name it after himself - be transcribed into history.

But to top it off, Atlas wanted something exciting to happen. Earth was new and fun, but if something wasn't happening ever second of their time there, he'd get painfully bored. Murphy's 'disagreement' with Well's was some form of amusement, but of course the hype of that had died down now. Atlas' face was covered in enough bruises and cuts to last him a while, so inserting himself into a fight with a fellow camp mate was off the table. He wanted to let loose, to run in circles with his arms spread out like an airplane, whopping and laughing without a care. He wanted to feel actual wind on his face, and enjoy the serenity and freedom of the planet.

So with two knives in his pocket, his boots crunched against the ground as he approached his partner in crime, eager so share in some excitement. Tapping him on the shoulder from behind, Atlas tucked his hands into his pocket and winked at his friend mischievously. "I'm joining in on that rescue mission Clarke's putting together. You in?" 

John Murphy wanted to laugh in his friends face, but ultimately, there wasn't a lot that surprised him about Atlas anymore (plus it did hurt him to laugh given that Wells may have properly broken his nose). His best friend was messy to say the least, of course he'd volunteer for a suicide mission and be happy about it. "That's awfully heroic of you."

Shrugging his shoulder, Atlas jokingly nodded along. "Yeah well you know me, always the selfless hero... I am on weapons duty though, so..." He drawled, pursing his lips hoping his friend would simply take the hint and he wouldn't have to ask. Murphy's astounded look proved that he knew exactly was Atlas wanted. "So you want me to help?" 

"Well I could also use the company, being stuck with those two privileged assholes isn't exactly my idea of fun." 

He thought about it for a moment. Perhaps he and Atlas could get up to something exciting on their trip, just like the good old days. Running around senselessly, not caring for anything or anyone else. "Fine. But if I get killed by a grounder I'm blaming you." 

"That's the spirit." He patted his friend on the chest encouragingly, now both stalking off together hoping to steal some poor kids weapon. 

It was both intriguing and terrifying how up and down Atlas was. Screaming angrily, punching walls one minute, smiling and laughing with his friend the next. At least people knew what to expect when interacting with John Murphy, he was always stand offish and angsty. Atlas was impossible to predict. That made him a liability, Bellamy was beginning to notice this, that he'd be more of a hinderance than a help with his plans. Wells and Clarke also noticed this, but one of the two seemed to care more than the other.