TK and Tetsu strikes again!

Yet another boys love fest...and...whatever else we decide on. ^_^

Here is the OOC thread to discuss The Tribe and occasionally throw in art.

TK reserves this...Mine. D<


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Name:Cameron Kennedy

Age: Mid 20s

Career: Anthropologist

Hair: Dark brown

Eyes: Dark orange

Complexion: Pale

Height: 6 foot/1.8 meters

Body type: Thin athletic build

Dress attire: Business casual, wears a lot of blues and reds

Personality: Very passionate about people to the point that he experiences frequent burn outs. He'll speak out when wrongs are committed, but due to lack of political power and influence in terms of wealth, he's unable to actually change anything. Activist against human rights violations and enthusiastic about learning about other cultures.

Family: Upper class, consists of mother, father, and younger teenge brother. Pretty much disowned for his career choice.

*eats post* MINE! xD

Everything was still as they stared up at the strange 'birds' in the sky. They'd never seen anything like it, people didn't usually venture out so far, but now those of the neo-Earth had discovered what the news was calling the 'lost tribe'.

Despite all of the years of advancing technology, it seemed that there were still those oblivious to the new ways of the world around them. Below the helicopters, man-made huts stood, large and amazingly sturdy despite how rickety they appeared to be. The dark skinned natives stared up in what could possibly be described as disbelief and even fear as their home was circled by these strange, noisy beasts in the sky.

Women quickly ushered children into their structures, out of sight, where they'd deem it safe while the men and young boys took care of protecting their families, arrows aimed as they tried to take out these strange beasts.

The copters flew away momentarily to land in a nearby clearing, and some thought they were perhaps victorious. One boy in his late teens it seemed, thought differently. His eyes were stern and he stared off into the trees while others celebrated.

At the first sign of men coming through the trees and brush, someone gave a yell and the youth shot off his arrow, pinning a man at the shoulder to the tree he'd just passed moments ago. Of course, this caused chaos as weapons they'd never seen before were drawn, sounds and fire came from them, loud blasts like a storm. They didn't like it a bit.

Some still struggled as they closed in, the youth drawing another arrow back when more shots rang out, and he stared over in the direction of the noise. Disbelief crossed his serious features before he started to release his weapons in an attempt to run towards the native who'd bee gunned down by a perhaps too trigger happy fellow.

"Nahkdala!" He cried out in his native tongue, gasping as he was detained, struggling, his long black hair pulling free of the leather tie that bound it all back.

A woman ran to the side of the fallen man, an infant bound to her back in a pack of sorts an a toddler at her side, holding at the edge of her skirt.

Slowly, they detained them all to a ship that would bring them to the large city nearby, Evandale. The boy was the last to go, fighting all the way until they managed to sedate him.

When he woke, he was in the lower bunk of a bunk bed, a blue eye and a brown eye staring up at the matress over him. There were others in the room, scared boys his age. They'd been sorted by age and gender, small children kept with apparent mothers of course. None of them spoke English, and unfortunately, it seemed there weren't any specialists in their native tongue, either.

Sitting up, the youth looked around, slid out of bed and went straight for the door as it started to open. He'd get them out of there! How dare they take them from their homes, he was so infuriated, he couldn't even hide it behind a cool mask. He took a lamp in hand and made to strike whomever dared to enter the room with an angry roar.

“This is an outrage.”

The commander arched a brow at the once emotionless young man. Only once had he been alerted of the natives capture did he burst into a deep fury. The uniformed man took a long drink from his glass before smirking, setting down the crystal with a noticeably irritated clink.

“Cameron, Cameron...Calm yourself. Let’s talk like rational men. Here, have a seat.”

He ignored the chair. “You’re mocking me, Colonel. You promised to escort me to the natives and leave. What is the meaning of this?”

The colonel began to wish his men had sedated the youth longer. Maybe even tossed him overboard and told the university he was working for that he had gotten drunk and drowned. His blue eyes eased over at the tranquilizer gun, but decided to humor him more anyways.

“I’m an anthropologist. I have a grant to go in and study these people. The government will hear of this!”

“People? Why, they’re animals. Barbarians. There’s nothing you can learn from them that you wouldn’t learn from a bunch of monkeys.” He chuckled. “And the government you say?” A briefcase beside his arm, one that Cameron hadn’t noticed before, received an affectionate pat. “They’ll be pleased to know just how much they’re getting. Your measly grant and promise of “knowledge” is meaningless against resources.”

“Resources?” Cameron repeated.

The colonel leaned in, his folded hands touching his chin. “Big business bribed your knowledge seeking university and government into buying out that land. All we had to do was move those savages out. It’s a win situation for all of us.”

“T-this...this was perhaps the last indigenous tribe...untouched by the rest of the world...and you’ve ruined it with your greed!” cried Cameron.

“Go find another group of monkeys, Cameron.” With that, he was waved away.

The anthropologist stood, gaping at the man. His parents had been against his major the moment he declared it. His mother cried, begging him to change to something worthwhile. What was so great about studying people? Cultures? Please. He was a bright kid. He could be advancing technology. But he chose to be a people watcher. And the disdain his family felt was the same as everyone else's. No one took a people watcher seriously...

He left the office and drifted some. A lieutenant he had become drinking buddies with came over and gave his arm a punch. But seeing how he was in no mood for jokes, dropped the kidding aside.

“Do you want to see them?”

“What?”

“The sav---natives.”

“I guess.”

The lieutenant led the way, talking the guard into opening the door. The guard stepped in and searched for a light. Cameron followed, feeling grim. He tensed at the sound of the lamp coming crashing down. The guard stumbled for a moment, whipped out his gun, and forced the youth against the wall, thrusting it against his temple.

“STOP IT.”

The guard grabbed the youth by the collar and turned to stab the gun above Cameron’s collarbone. “Damn barbarian lover! Know your place!” Cameron swallowed, feeling his throat roll against the metal. The guard threw the native youth down and stormed out. The lieutenant breathed. He had failed to move once he saw the crazed look in the guard’s eyes. The sheer hate.

When the guard grabbed at his collar, though all the man would be able to get a hold of was a necklace he had about his neck. The gun to his head made him cringe, though his intense glare never faltered, his hate for these men evident. He arched as little as he was kept put, glaring at the man with a fierce passion while the man seemed to threaten the younger looking man.

He couldn't understand a bit of what they were saying, only understanding that they didn't agree about something, and he'd recognized the word "barbarian". People seemed to call them that a lot when they'd been taken away from their village, as well as "savage"... He didn't quite understand why, but he imagined those words were not kind.

The native youth grunted as he was shoved down, the other boys itching to get up from their places they'd crouched in to help him, but that other man was still there, just... standing there. Would he hurt them? The boy on the floor seemed to understand though, unmoving to see what the man would do it seemed.

His hand moved however into a soft leather legging, yanking out a blade hidden within it and jumping up to go after the unmoving man. Making to shove him to the ground, he held the knife above him, blade near his throat.

Straddling one of Cameron's thighs, the native youth stared down at him with utter hate-disgust. He hated these people who'd taken them away from their homes and shoved them into the strange places.

"Awani gia?" Came a demand, though he should have known the man wouldn't understand him. The next thing he knew there was a sharp pain in his arm, a dart in the bicep as he looked down. His eyes fluttered and the bone blade fell to the floor as he tipped over to the floor once a man had sedated him at the ruckus.

[Lulz I doubt many people recognize this, but I'm using the Abenaki language a bit for this tribe >__> I'm too lazy right now to dig out the old language I did when I was in middle school xD LOL]

((*laughs* You ought to put a translation right by what he's saying! I'm lazy. ^_^))



To the best of his abilities, Cameron stayed calm and avoided looking at the youth in the eye. In his training, he had learned how previous anthropologists posed no threats to the natives to gain their trust. Some took months, even years. He knew it would be hard, but in this situation...well, it would be impossible. None of the natives would probably want to cooperate with him. He was lumped in with the bribe-accepting creeps who ripped them from their quiet lifestyle.

As the boy tumbled off, he stayed still before responding. Rising slowly, he looked at the kid and then back at the guard who sedated him.

"Thank your lucky stars, mate. He wanted your head to stick on a pole and dance around a fire," chuckled the guard.

Cameron frowned and left the room, the lieutenant trailing after.

"I don't understand. What are they going to do with them?" he asked, leaning against a railing to look down at the dark waters.

"Study them?"

Cameron shot him a glare. "They're people, not guinea pigs."

"And they're not quite your business anymore. Looks like the government owns them." The lieutenant sighed. "Wish I could help you, but I think begging for that grant ended up shooting you in the ass. It was probably all an elaborate cover-up." His voice dropped. "Saying they're funding research. Then they actually get money from businesses to wipe out the natives so they can use the land. Then use them as slaves. You just helped them. I mean, who else is an anthropologist these days? No one cares about anyone else but themselves." He punched his arm playfully. "Get another job, Cammy."

The next time that door would open was to lead them all to a highly secured cafeteria in the basement of the building. They all kept close, searched again after the incident with the youth and Cameron.

Avani was kept a close eye on, his blue and brown eyes narrowed towards the guards and any of the men who weren't of their people. They all murmured amongst themselves as they were herded into the tight room and lead to sit on the benched tables where food was set out, as well as silverware.

As they were left alone, the people slowly realized they were able to eat the food before them, all very hungered after being taken captive. They took some, smelled it, took a small taste, possibly testing it for poison. Waiting a moment for any reactions before it seemed they all deemed it safe to eat.

The silverware was plastic, but it went unnoticed by the natives, eating with their hands, they were deffinitely not 'well mannered' by the 'sofisticated' men and woman of their Neo-Earth's definition.

Avani spoke with several of the men quietly at his table, despite guards telling him to cut it out, he merely gazed at them a moment and continued on, his food untouched despite his hunger.

"That one's going to be trouble." A guard muttered to another, crossing his arms as they studied Avani with a grunt. He just wouldn't cooperate with them, it was obvious. Of course, ifhe didn't want to eat, it wouldn't harm them any--so what if they lost one of them? One less savage to try and keep track of.

There was a commotion on the other end of the room and Avani quickly got up as a woman gave a pained moan, holding her stomach. She was very pregnant. Avani was over the tables in a flash and by her side before anyone even knew something was going on. She'd gone into labor, more of the tribe working on getting her to the floor as an older woman made her way over, pushing the boy out of her way gently so the younger woman could be assisted in giving birth.

Cameron ate little. As the lieutenant and others talked around him, he heard nothing. It would be nothing but work, sports, and, of course, sex. There was word of an occurrence with the natives traveling down the other tables. A woman in labor? The anthropologist perked up. While this entire journey was such a waste, perhaps he could witness how the natives attended to such an event. He jumped to his feet, reached into his jacket and produced a notebook to jot down his observations.

Shoving his way, he made it to be close enough to see the natives attending to the pregnant woman.

Tugging his clothes off, Avani offered them to the woman for cleaning the child when it was born, kneeling there naked afterwards as he fiddled with one of the plastic knives. He sharpened it against the leather of his leggings, holding it tight in one hand and in his teeth.

A few of the women coaxed her through her labor, taking the loose cloth about her torso off of her once the child was born, cutting the cord with the sharpened plastic, cleaning her and wrapping her in cloth once they'd washed her with the loin cloth of Avani's outfit and some wet napkins dunked in a pticher of ice water on a table.

One of the women cried out something to the apparent midwife, as the woman in labor seemed to be having some sort of complications--she'd begun to bleed out heavily, broken out in a high fever.

The woman tried to help her, but it seemed her complications were too great. Avani held the child as he looked worriedly at the situation. Though there was a medical doctor in the room should anyone retaliate against the guards, he didn't even bother to move from his assumed station to help the woman in distress. Of course, they probably wouldn't have let him anyway.

Everything went silent other than the whimpers of the newborn, and the woman wiped her bloody hands clean on her skirt before closing the late woman's eyes and murmuring something gently--a prayer of passing perhaps.

"Nda... Nda, Koie..." Avani stammered, holding the child close as he looked over the woman on the ground. Tears started to fall over his cheeks and he grit his teeth. If they'd been home this wouldn't have happened! She was doing fine! Being brought here... something must have put stress on her body... Something went wrong because of THEM. He hated them so much. Nuzzling down against the child's head gently, he frowned and sat back as the midwife pat his shoulder in condolences. "Awani wa?" She asked with a small smile, trying to cheer him up.

"...Talaz wa." Avani whispered, swallowing thickly as he calmed himself. It was apparent that the child was his. A woman with another infant came and spoke with him as well, taking the youth from the young man so she could nurse her with her own son.

The others covered the dead woman's body with cloth, staring at the men watching with spite. They could not bury her properly now... It was such a shame, they did not want these men handling their deceased, but none of them knew what more they could do.

Cameron jotted down as much of what he could see. Anyone glancing over his shoulder to read what he was writing would have been left confused. Ever since high school, he had developed a sort of shorthand that required translating on his part else what he wrote would be forever left a mystery. Symbols were abound to help him get the main ideas down. Descriptions were brisk. Not a sentence in sight in his paragraphs.

Finally, he stopped writing, the pages wet with ink. He captured what he could down on paper, a few sketches lining the margins.

He frowned at the mother, passed on after the birthing. If he had the opportunity to observe them in their native life, he would have only watched, not participated. It wasn't of his career's motive to interfere. Just to report how it was. So a part of him was glad the doctor aboard did not help. But the other half was saddened to know a child would be without a mother.

His eyes swung over to the youth, the very one who had attacked him. What a busybody! He noted how the other natives were acting. Had he been granted paternity? He was curious and wanted to know if taking the child was all it took. And how would this young boy take care of an infant? Cameron would observe to find out...

With the final prayers said over the body, the tribe all stepped away from the fallen woman, turning their backs to her so they wouldn't have to see what the strange men would do with her.

Avani didn't move however. He stood there, naked and some blood still on his hands from what had just happened, the child with another nursing mother for the time being as he didn't have the ability to nurse her. His two-toned gaze swung over to the men, fury and pain in his expression and he quickly walked up towards Cameron.

"Kita! N... Nadacowaldam. Nadacowaldam." He looked distressed, didn't make a move to harm anyone, Cameron had seemed like he was the most sensible... maybe he'd understand.

He tried to show the man what he wanted, pointing towards the body of the woman, then he attempted to show how they would dig a grave and pray--he hoped they understood. Maybe... Just maybe this man would understand what he wanted.

Cameron had watched the native boy's gestures and how the others reacted to the dead body. He jotted them down in his code, careful not to smear any of the ink on his hand. The shoveling mime meant burial, he was sure of it.

Carefully, he gestured to try to communicate. His left hand slowly approached his right, open palm. The ship will reach its destination. Then he gestured to the woman and moved his hands to copy the boy's shoveling. They could bury her there. He patted his chest then opened his hands. He would help. He wasn't there to hurt them.

Of course, they wouldn't be allowed to just anywhere. But he would talk to officials and see to it that there would be some space for the natives to do so. He had to see the funeral rite! The behaviors of these peoples could not be lost forever.

He tipped his head down a moment after he felt he'd comprehended what the man was trying to help, and a hand reached out to take the man's, wordless now. He wanted him to take his hand, he was the only one he trusted at all now. Once his hand was taken, he led him away from the other men towards his tribe to tell them that the man was on their side, of course he didn't want to let the man go now, he was their only protection and some sort of communication between them and the white beasts.

Looking up to Cameron again, he sighed. He wished he had another way to communicate with the man. He'd heard some words before, someone had been trying to order them to learn to speak English. After hearing it so many times, he'd begun to understand the meaning of it. Swallowing slowly, he could only hope it would make sense. "Learn?" He asked, reaching to point at a poster with English words on it. He wanted someone to teach him to speak English.

Cameron allowed himself to be led by Avani, curious about what he was saying and doing to the other members of the tribe. Seeing that no harm had come to him, he mentally noted what had happened. Once his hand was free, he would need to record this. It appeared as if he had been accepted. Anthropologists had spoken that it took almost a year to achieve such a feat. Perhaps it was the stressful conditions that made them so rapidly yearn for help.

And he was the willing participant.

It was a crude attempt at voicing the word "learn," but Cameron picked it up. He was excited. By either learning the natives' language or having them learn his, he would be able to bridge this gap! Smiling, he nodded. He would teach him!

ANother tinge of a smile crept on Avani's lips, but he wasn't one to smile often. He kept a fairly serious look most of the time, turning to Cameron again to speak, though this time in his own language. "Wigôdamana N'chajabnigaji N'lôdwawôganna nspiwi kiowô." Furrowing his brow, he sighed, knowing it would make no sense to the man. It would take time to learn eachother's languages.

Pointing to himself suddenly, tapping at his bare, painted chest. "Avani nia." And then he reached to tap at the man's own chest as he wrote down everything, looking to him curiously. "Awani gia?" He asked as he had him sit down at a table with them, close because there were so many of them and not much space. Luckily, it seemed their people ran at a small size--non of them were very tall at all, avaraging around 5'2" or so.

Cameron stared at him as he patted himself, addressing himself as Avani nia.

"Avani nia?" he responded softly, having a seat. The most he could assume at this point was that all of that was his name. Not quite sure what to do, he patted his own chest. "Cameron." He said it slowly again, knowing it'd most likely be hard to pronounce at first.

They had drawn quite a crowd. Even Cameron's "people" watched from their distance as he interacted with the youth.

"Poor kid has jungle fever," commented an officer, rolling his eyes and leaving the galley.

"Nda, nda... Avani." shaking his head, he pointed to himself again, trying to make something more clear. Then he tapped at Cameron's chest again. "Ka.. me.. ro..n? Cameron gia?" it was rough, but names were faintly easier than other words.

Gently, Cameron touched the boy. "Avani." He touched his own chest. "Cameron."

Finally, they were making some ground. He smiled and began pointing out different things around them, naming them in English and waiting to see if the child would point it out in his own native tongue. Every word he learned, he broke it down for easy pronunciation in his notebook.

Avani did his best to put names to things, but there were things he didn't know what they were either way, just making a face at them and repeating what Cameron said to the best of his ability.

The woman brought his child over to him after a moment and Avani looked sad a moment, smiling faintly at his daughter. Pointing to himself he said "Kchai... ta..." He paused and pointed to the baby he held, fast asleep in his arms, a little darker skinned than he was. "Wdoza. Chijiz. Mm... Gao." He tried to motion for that last word how she slept, bringing a finger up to his lips for them to be quieter now.

Cameron watched the two for a moment before taking the opportunity to write what he had observed from Avani. How he picked up words, how he pronounced, what things wasn't in his vocabulary. His writing was fiercely quick.

Sitting back to admire the pages he had completed, he resumed watching and waiting to see what else would happen with Avani and his people.

The people were quiet, still other than their hands bringing food to their mouths. The thought of the strange things on the table made Avani shift the child so that her wrap would be a sling across his chest and she'd rest against his back so he could use his hands freely.

Picking up a plastic fork, he bent it back a little, not breaking it becuase he could feel it begin to give before it would. He looked up to Cameron, holding it up and he asked in a gentle voice, "gagwi yo?"

"Fork," Cameron said, gesturing to it. He picked up the nearest one and slowly dived it into a plate of food. With the utensil armed with morsels from the cooks aboard the ship, he put it into his mouth.

After consuming it, he pointed to his mouth and moved it in a mime of feeding. "Eat."

Looking to the child, he wondered how to get the name Avani give her. He patted himself, said his name, gestured to Avani and said his, then gestured to the baby girl and stayed silent, waiting for what he had to say.

"Agma?" Avani questioned as he slid the child slowly about to rest at his stomach int he slinged wrap. He spoke after a moment and smiled some as he looked at the sleeping child, touching her cheek so softly. "Talaz."

"Talaz," Cameron repeated, trying to get the name down with the right enunciation. He smiled at the child. He would speak to the doctor aboard to make the necessary checks on the infant and provide some immunizations. While he wouldn't have done any of that in his fieldwork, he didn't want to see the child die. The world they would soon be exposed to had many pathogens that could easily kill her.

And then he froze.

It wasn't just the child in danger. It was the entire tribe. He rose, growing somewhat pale.