The Bunker, Saturday FT

The days in the bunker threatened to all blur together. After the first week, Octavia had taken to keeping count of them on a little pad in her office. One short line, one day.

People had been calling her Osleya since day one.

'The champion'.

But Octavia wanted to do anything but lead them. She'd won the conclave and put them all here, wasn't that enough? Indra kept dressing her up in commander garb, the coat, the forehead emblem, but it felt wrong, it wasn't her. Her blood was red and it always would be. The clothes weren't fooling anyone, no matter how many times Indra led her to meetings with the delegates from the old clans. Especially when Gaia wouldn't throw her support behind her.

And all Octavia really wanted to do was spar with Miller, spend time with Niylah, try and make this her new normal. Try and accept this would be where they'd be for the next five years, the same as everyone else.

( Her phone had been badly damaged during the conclave. )

[ooc: NFB, NFI, taken from The 100 S5 episode 2.]

The Bunker, Sunday FT

Wonkru had been living in the bunker for two years. Not comfortably, not always harmoniously, but they'd lived, and they'd done so together as one clan. Sometimes that was enough. The fighting pits weren't pretty, weren't something Octavia thought she would have sanctioned on the ground, but they were necessary. For population control, for unity, for a grim reminder of what their enemy was.

( See content warning below. )

[ooc: NFB, NFI. Taken from The 100 S5, episode 11 (yes, we're skipping ahead for a bit, because this is flashback country in the original continuity). CONTENT WARNING for cannibalism and graphic murder of NPCs.]