Osir Laik Azgeda

[Bellamy Blake]

Tag: Isa

we've  been

AT WAR SINCE WE LANDED

This was going to be a huge adjustment. And even then, Bellamy wasn't sure he was going to be able to fully conform. Not in his heart anyway. Outwardly, he had to. He'd adopted the attire of these people, abandoning the clothes that identified him as an Arker. Now, clad in the uniform of an Azgeda warrior. He'd also adopted the weapon. He was more a gun type of guy, but now he had to use swords and daggers. It was so primitive. He just needed to remind himself of why he was doing this; why he was here. To protect Clarke, and to protect his people. His agreement to join the army, to help with war tactics based on unique strategies would ensure that Azgeda stopped attacking the Arkers. It also took the bounty she had on Clarke's head. That, was a big incentive. Clarke was safe. She was with their people. Everyone for the time being was safe. That was all that mattered. Despite his indefinite time here -- perhaps permanently. But Bellamy would just take it day by day.

His arrival was still somewhat new, only having been here a few days. He had already started training, learning the combat of a warrior -- and as Lincoln had been training him as well, Bellamy had a few of the basics and a solid foundation. The same went for the language. He'd managed to ignore most of the looks from the others. They knew damn well who he was -- or that he was at least not Azgeda. Hell, Bellamy was prepared for anyone taking a swing at him. He couldn't show fear though he was only human after all. It was imperative he walked with a stoic, composed demanor. These people smelled fear. Preyed on it. And he refused to show any sign that it got to him. It didn't. Not right now. He made his way through the camp, having finished a vigorous training session, and was now nearing the water station, waiting for the small group to disperse before he went up to get his own.

[Isa]

❅AI GONPLEI❅

TAG: Bellamy Blake

Isa would not readily admit to being curious about the Sky Person walking among them. At a glance he blended in, dressed as any of their warriors would, but Isa knew he was Skaikru. Perhaps it was the knowledge of his origins that underlined the differences in accent and movement. 

He had not been there long, but she had watched him. Not all the time. Just when she happened to be nearby. He always seemed stiff when she spotted him. It made sense, considering who he was. 

She did not mean to even think about the stranger in their midst. She had simply meant to top off her waterskin before heading out into the forest to do some hunting, but she heard the shift in voices as the outsider-in-familiar-clothes approached. 

She was sitting on a water barrel, waiting, when the rest of her people left to go about her business. She was out of the way so he could still have access to the water, but close enough so that he could not avoid her in the process. She just waited as she trimmed the fletching of an arrow and watched him from beneath lowered lashes.

created by lilith

[Bellamy Blake]

Tag: Isa

we've  been

AT WAR SINCE WE LANDED

Once Bellamy managed to move through the crowd -- which wasn't an overly easy task -- he took notice of the woman sitting there. Well, it was impossible not to considering she was right where he needed the water. He was no fool. Nor was he able to ever lower his guard. Part of him felt like he was walking on egg shells here. Everyone sensitive to the way he looked at them, just waiting for an opportunity to start a fight. They wouldn't kill him -- they wouldn't dare -- but didn't mean he was exactly at their level of combat and could avoid getting his ass kicked. After proper training, perhaps. He had some from Lincoln, but these people were warriors trained from a young age. He didn't even have his damn gun. Only a sword. A hell of a lot of good that would do.

With each aspect of the culture he embraced, he felt a little of his Arker heritage was lost. Though he knew in his heart he would never be Azgeda. These were not his people. For now, he may have to assimilate for appearances sake . . . but he would never forgo the hope that one day, he could return home. With the woman before him, he was uncertain as to whether she would create trouble, or whether he could mind his own business. These people weren't exactly easy to read. They didn't wear their emotions on their face.

Which . . . in turn, helped that he himself was stoic. Most of the time anyway. He proceeded to fill up the cup of water he had, wordlessly. Though he could feel the woman's eyes on him, despite him not returning her gaze. That is, until he filled his cup. It was at that moment that he finally turned his head to eye the Grounder. "Chit?" What? He asked, knowing that his whole mood and frustrations with being here was the reason for his emotionless tone and laconically phrased question. Still. If there was indeed a problem, he'd rather face it head on as oppose to being eyed and possibly caught off guard later.