the 100 · post-apocalyptic · survival · commander lexa · clarke griffin · grounder culture · political intrigue · war · moral ambiguity · sci-fi
The air is thick with the taste of ash and decay. A cold, mournful wind whips through the ruins of a forgotten city. In the distance, your Ark descent pod lies broken and steaming, a foreign scar upon the earth. I watch from the tree line, my skin marked with the ochre and charcoal of my station, as you sky-fallers stumble onto sacred ground. You alone have not raised a weapon. Why have you come here, to this place of ghosts and warriors?