Needle And A Thread, Gotta Get You Out Of My Head

[Bellamy Blake]

Tag: Bambi Prim Hills

whatever

THE HELL WE WANT

Things were finally settling down. The ceasefire allowed for all the groups of people to just take a breath, and properly recover from the trauma that Mount Weather had inflictd upon them. It was most certainly needed for the Arkers. It was during this time that they had renamed the camp from Camp Jaha to Arkadia, as it was becoming more of a city. They were establishing a sustainable lifestyle, building crops, gathering supplies from Mount Weather . . . Bellamy had been on that first supply run and it had nearly destroyed him. But the company of a certain other was getting him through this difficult time.

It was the only thing saving him right now. He had set his feelings aside for the betterment of the camp, to help the other delinquents and Arkers. It was all he could do. Move forward rather than dwell in the past. Nights were the worst, but they were bearable. Right now however, Bellamy needed the expertise of someone to help mend his jacket. He had a gotten a rather large hole in it. He knew his sister having worked with his mother could do it, but he didn't want to ask her. He could do it himself with his skills in stitching but he was lacking the materials. He wanted it done as best as possible as this was his guards jacket and he didn't want Kane to see that he had destroyed it. Well, not really destroyed he supposed. He had torn the sleeve and it was half hanging off now.

Bellamy made his way to the small room designated for clothing exchange, washing, and all the like. A young blond woman was sitting there and he walked up to her, setting the jacket onto the table. "I need this fixed as soon as possible," he told her, getting straight to business. His tone wasn't rude but based on his attire of just a t-shirt and pants, revealing that he was not dressed in his uniform . . . well, he hoped she would quickly understand that his uniform -- at least the jacket -- was what he was giving to her to get fixed. He would let her see it first to assess the damage before he asked how long it would take though. Never having met the girl personally -- though recognized her among those who had come from the Ark -- he didn't want to be overly rude.

[Deleted]

ACTUALLY, I CARE A LOT JUST NOT ABOUT THE THINGS YOU DO tagged Bellamy Blake

Bambi wasn’t actually paying attention to what happened, all she heard was the quick tone and the lack of manners. “Hello Bambi, how are you Bambi, hope you aren’t busy Bambi—could you please fix this thing I was too reckless to take care of for me Bambi? Why thank you Bambi for taking into consideration the rush I am in.” Her tone was thick with sarcasm and she hadn’t even looked up from her embroidery yet. Her eyes flashed up just enough to look at the guard jacket, which made her sigh and pull out her navy blue thread. Not much had survived, but she had a small pack of supplies. Finally, she looked up at her latest charge and froze. “Bellamy—I didn’t... Know it was you.” Her face flushed immediately and she worked to suppress a smirk before she took the jacket and looked it over. There was a pretty large hole, but she was a witch with a needle and thread and could make any kind of magic happen.

“This won’t take long at all. If you want to stick around,” her tone was a little bit flirtatious. “I mean, I could swing this really quick so I don’t have to put you in the work queue.” Her head inclined towards the pile of torn and damaged clothing beside her that she’d been conveniently neglecting. Since she could get everything done quick, sometimes she got sidetracked. She set the guard jacket down and got to work quickly, threading her needle and leaning in to stitch the hole shut. When she had her mark set, she looked up at him while her hands worked.

“I really shouldn’t be that harsh,” she looked him over, glad that his t-shirt was just a bit too tight. Honestly, the jacket was a crime against the ark for hiding a body like his under the bulky material. “You probably have no idea who I am anyway. Not every day we get guards coming down here in the flesh.” She grinned a little and tilted her head suggestively, still gazing. Distractions were key and he was a fine distraction. “You must be incredibly busy.”

OWL

[Bellamy Blake]

Tag: Bambi Prim Hills

whatever

THE HELL WE WANT

He seemed to hit a nerve. He just silently watched her as she went off on . . . well, what he assumed to be the disregard for her well being and going straight to business. Should he apologize? He didn't often do that. But, maybe she was stressed out and overworked. He damn well knew the feeling. When she made eye contact with him though, something seemed to shift in her demeanour. She admitted that she didn't know it was him, her face coloring at the realization. He didn't think he was any sort of special exception to her rightfully sarcastic attitude, but apparently . . . her snippy tone diminished as she looked over the jacket. His gaze followed the pile of clothing that she had to get through, and he found himself rather appreciative of the fact that she would prioritize it.

Looking back at her he gave a bit of a nod. "Thank you," he said with a slight smile, genuinely grateful. To indicate that he would indeed stick around and keep her company, he went over to one of the chairs and sat down on it, not all too far from her working area. She spoke of how she shouldn't be so harsh, saying that he probably didn't know who she was. "I'm gonna guess your name is Bambi?" He asked rhetorically, a clear teasing in his voice at the sarcastic humor he presented since . . . well, she had gone on that little rant that revealed her name more than once.

She appeared to know who he was though. "No more busier than the others," he told her, dismissive of his own numerous duties. He thought back to when his mother used to do this, how Octavia would aid her while he went off to classes and then training to be a guard. "Like yourself for example. Looks like you got your work cut out for you." Considering that massive pile of clothing. "Got any help?" He questioned, wondering if it was just her today. Maybe he could offer his own assistance. Though his abilities were the basics. Nothing overly detailed.

[Deleted]

ACTUALLY, I CARE A LOT JUST NOT ABOUT THE THINGS YOU DO tagged Bellamy Blake

“No problem,” she replied with a little bit of pep. Her smile was both genuine and flirty while she stitched the hole shut. It was slower than she could work, but fast enough not to raise any suspicion. “What do you know you’re smart and handsome? Rare combination,” she winked—rather blatantly before looking back at her patch job. Even after she fixed the large hole, she found three more tears in the fabric which made her sigh. She flipped the jacket around and started to reinforce the seam. This jacket had been through hell and back and wasn’t leaving her little corner of heaven looking like a shabby mess.

“Help? Not when I’m here.” She laughed and shook her head. “No—I don’t work well with slow seamstresses. At least not unless I’m supervising.” Her eyes flashed over to the pile of unfinished work and she smirked. “I’ll have that done in two hours tops. I’ve got a knack for this stuff... Even though it seems everybody in Arkadia wants to mess their clothes up. Pretty soon you’ll all be wearing skins.” She scoffed and shook her head. “Not on my watch though.” God—grounders dressed horribly. The fur smelt horrible and whatever they used to stitch clothing together was coarse and irritating. Human hair maybe? Like she knew.

“You’re too good looking for this thing. I’m still waiting for them to revamp the uniforms.” She smiled a little and pulled up the badge work she was doing for Arkadia uniforms of all kinds. She’d embroidered the Arkadia arch like a brand—even though nobody had given her the task to decorate the uniforms she would sneak them in if she got the chance. “When are you off?” her question was blunt; prying, and her tone left little to the imagination. She was interested—and wanted him to know it.

OWL

[Bellamy Blake]

Tag: Bambi Prim Hills

whatever

THE HELL WE WANT

Smart and handsome. Well oh shit. This conversation was starting to take a bit of a turn. Or was it? Perhaps he was just over analyzing. She may just be paying him a compliment, and that's all. Though, something in her tone and voice suggested otherwise. He was oblivious a lot of the time he supposed. But he also knew when to trust his instincts. Under other circumstances, at a different time, he would have been into this. She was a beautiful woman. He'd be crazy not to find her attractive and thus, want to explore any mutual attraction and the physical pleasures it could lead to.

But . . . not right now. Not with his state of mind and heart. For he was with someone else. He didn't advertise it. Maybe people still didn't know and that was fine. He knew. And even though he had never been in a relationship before, fidelity was never a problem for him. It was never a struggle. So he just chose to ignore the compliment. No one hated to be called attractive, but he wasn't about to entertain anything. Not when his heart was committed to another. He couldn't keep toying with the reputation he had with the delinquents. The man who came to Earth and engaged in physical intimacy with them. No. He was a different man now. And he would stick to it.

"That's impressive," he commented when she said that she would be done all that in two hours tops. "So you're the one in charge of all this?" He further inquired. She seemed to have the expertise, the mastery skills. He just wanted to find out so that he knew who to go to. He was still finding out more and more about the Arkers who had come down after the intial dropship. Besides, it was easier to keep the topic of conversation on her rather than him. "Sure hope not," he said in agreement to her own disapproval of wearing skins. It felt too . . . representative of the Grounder culture. And he wasn't exactly pleased with their commander.

"It's good for the winter, but we got past the worst of it without the skins. Gotta keep our Arker culture alive." He firmly believed that. The clothes down here, were what they made them to be. Represented the home they fought for, that people had died for. He wasn't about to give that up. He next remark left him silent again. Too good for the uniform? Wanting to revamp them? Was he thinking too much into it? "How would you suggest they do that?" He inquired, genuine curiosity prompting the question rather than playing into any other wise flirtatious remark. Maybe he really was just reading into this all too wrong.

And then she asked him when he was off. Well, damn. He conveniently ignored her question. "I owe you for this," he began to say. "What do you want for it?" They had a barter system set up here, so he could get her any supplies, or offer his own services in exchange. "I know how to stitch a bit, but may be too slow for you," he stated. "So what can I offer in return?" He sure as hell hoped he wasn't going to regret asking such an open ended question. But his gut was telling him otherwise.

[Deleted]

ACTUALLY, I CARE A LOT JUST NOT ABOUT THE THINGS YOU DO tagged Bellamy Blake

Of course, how was Bellamy supposed to know that complimenting her skill got to her quicker and harder than any frivolous comment on her looks would. The young tailor took so much pride in her work. His compliment made her smile-- but the question made her chuckle. "Not on The Ark I wasn't. I just happen to be the best of the surviving tailors... I'll share a secret though, there aren't that many of us." The words were dark. Teasing about just how many people died was dark and she knew it. There was a bitterness to her tone despite the fact that she was only teasing... Too many people died because of stupidity. "Arker culture?" she laughed again and shook her head-- her blonde curls bouncing as she did. "I just call it having class." She held up the jacket to look for more holes and sure enough, she managed to find one on the inside.

Her nose wrinkled as she cleaned out the hole carefully; dirt and dust coming out of the seam. "A change in color would be nice... and potentially material. They managed to find some good clothes in Mount Weather that we've been cleaning up. A different badge too. We could make them warmer." she could go on for ages while she cleaned out the stubborn hole. Truthfully she was stalling to keep him here. Finding more screw ups was a blessing. Then he said he owed her, which made a devious smirk cross her lips. "You owe me?-- Oh god no I wouldn't let you do that anyway. You've been on the ground so long you probably wouldn't know where to start."

Subtle flirtations were thrown aside as she stitched up the tear. "How about dinner. Just you and me. We can find somewhere quiet I'm sure... Hmm, maybe we can use your guard perks to hang out beyond the wall," she chuckled as she set down the jacket to look at him, waiting for his answer. "Since you owe me. We'll call it a date."

OWL

[Bellamy Blake]

Tag: Bambi Prim Hills

whatever

THE HELL WE WANT

He listsened to her answer, as it made perfect sense. They had lost so many people who had been on the Ark. Down here, there were only a few with those particular skill sets and it was enough to keep things just able to function. Her skills were highly important of course, so at least they had a few in her field. "I bet," he said in a low voice, not about to challenge her statement or 'secret' because he could only imagine how true it was. "Do you know how many?" He inquired. That was something else that was important to Bellamy. He wanted to know how many were in each field. How many workers, how they were divided up. Who was in which work force. He had known all that when it came to the delinquents, having designated them to various roles based on what he knew of their individual skillset.

It was why he knew some were better suited as militia and handling guns than others were. No one would be good at everything, but everyone was good at something. "Well the uniforms aren't meant to be fashionable," he teased, knowing what she had meant by having class, but nor was he too fussed with what he wore. As long as it was functional. Which . . . it hadn't been with the way it was torn. And damn it, she had found another one. She didn't even question it. She just set straight to work on it and well, he quite appreciated that. The mention of Mount Weather forced his thoughts aside, knowing that the place had things to offer but at the same time . . . would always be wary of entrance there. Despite his presence on some of the supply runs. "Warmer is definitely good," he agreed, though all her suggestions were good ones. "Something with a bit more padding for protection." Armor of sorts, but obviously not with just metal.

When he had worn the uniform of the Mountain Men, he could feel the difference in weight, for it was better protected than the guards uniform. Then again, on the Ark, they had less they needed to protect themselves from compared to those at Mount Weather. At least when they were able to go outside. Grounder weapons were no joke. In regards to what he owed her, she protestd that he owed her anything and . . . Bellamy didn't feel right about that. He had to give her something in exchange for her skills, but what she asked of him made him pause. Dinner? The familiar thoughts of how if this had happened under other circumstances resurfaced in his mind. He would have said yes, finding no reason not to. No reason to deny a beautiful woman dinner.

But this time, he couldn't. And she had even clarified it as a date. Well, at least he could find value in her straight forward nature. That was something rare, especially when it came to women. But it wasn't like men were any better. "How about I'll arrange a nice dinner for you." Better than the usual meals they received. "And you can have it with someone else." He never often bothered with letting anyone down nicely, but nor was he overly blunt about it compared to the man who had pushed others away to protect his sister. This time, it wasn't about protecting Octavia that made him deny the offer of a date. "Not me," he finished, wanting to make that every clear. Besides, he wasn't deserving of any woman wanting to date him. He didn't even know how Gena managed to deal with him.

[Deleted]

ACTUALLY, I CARE A LOT JUST NOT ABOUT THE THINGS YOU DO tagged Bellamy Blake

“Well there is me, and then there are three others that worked with laundry,” she said with a small frown as she thought it over. “I was the only surviving seamstress, but the others know enough about a needle and thread to keep you guys afloat. I needed the help when we got here—you and the delinquents did a number on your clothes.” The privilege that dripped from her tone was odd considering her job on the ark wasn’t that special. She just enjoying being talented. Hell, there were times she intentionally avoided teaching so that she cloud remain the best. She knew that was a little messed up, but she needed to be something and right now that was the best damn seamstress and tailor in Arkadia. “You know—for padding. That may be the only thing I use fur for.” She let out a small chuckle as she thought over a design for it. She could reinforce the jackets with buck hide and cover it with cloth. It would keep them warm.

Then he shut her down. Not even subtly. “Oh why thank you, that sounds great. I’ll just find some boring little tart to join me—what will you be gifting me with hmm? Meat and potatoes? Mashed or boiled?” she rolled her eyes a little. “You know, if you didn’t like me you could have just said so you don’t have to be weird about it. The food isn’t the point.” She scoffed a little and held up the jacket to hide her disappointment, though it was clear in her voice. “I was asking you out on a date, jackass.”

She let out a long and drawn out, borderline dramatic sigh as she held the jacket out to him. “But I get it! You’re too good for it—but hey it’s great to know who has connections.” She frowned a little, clearly more offended than she let on. She was lonely as hell, but there were reasons for that. Nobody liked being around somebody like her. 

OWL

[Bellamy Blake]

Tag: Bambi Prim Hills

whatever

THE HELL WE WANT

Bellamy listened to Bambi's explanation of the other women that also worked with her. Three in total. His mind inevitably went to his mother, of how had she been alive . . . this would have been her field of work as well. She was a seamstress, and that was where he had learned his skills. The painful memory was set to the side though, as Bellamy was fully aware that dwelling in the past right now wouldn't do any good. There was a time and place for that, and it sure as hell wasn't when he was out in public. "Yeah. Happens when you're fighting a war," he said with a slight, half smile when she spoke of how the delinquents had done a number on their clothes.

Their resources had been severely limited. Even Bellamy's jacket had initially been part of the guard's uniform, but transformed by the removal of the patches that indicated it was as such. "You should teach other people. More than just the few that survived. The trade needs to be taught for future generations." It was a suggestion, that could also help alleviate some of the work as well as bestow the skill onto others. It was essential that those experienced in their field, teach it to those who could carry it on. "It's a good call," he commended when she spoke of the use of fur. "Lining, padding, extra warmth. Multi purpose." These were things that could certainly strengthen the uniform. Damn shame the topic couldn't have stayed on that. Because it was easier to talk about work, than what she wanted for exchange.

He had offended her. That was much clear. Her sarcastic -- dare he say bitter -- tone was an evident sign of that. Not to mention her use of the word jackass to insult him with. He silently watched her as she extended the jacket to him, reaching out to take it in his hand. It wasn't that he thought he was too good for her. He knew that everyone was too good for him. But that was another deep seated insecurity that he wouldn't voice. Besides, it wasn't the reason he was saying no right now. "Would it be easier if I said it's not you, it's me?" He question was almost sarcastic, but not with blunt rudeness. Because, there was some truth to his words.

"I'm not too good for it," he clarified, feeling the need to emphasize that point. "But I'm also not into it." Into her, in that way. Nothing personal. Though, he supposed it was impossible not to take it personally. "There are plenty more people here that you can enjoy yourself with. More than me. Let me know when you find one. I'll make good on my deal." To help her make it a bit more special with a different kind of meal. It was all he could offer in exchange. "Unless you want something else." Within reason. "Cause I owe you for this." And it was only fair to stay true to this barter system they had going in Arkadia.

[Deleted]

ACTUALLY, I CARE A LOT JUST NOT ABOUT THE THINGS YOU DO tagged Bellamy Blake

"Teach other people? I'll leave that to the people with patience." Bambi laughed dryly at the thought of her sitting the delinquents down and trying to teach them needleworking. They wouldn't have the skill to keep up right off the bat and therefore, Bambi wouldn't have the time to waste on teaching when she could be doing. Besides, she wasn't a good teacher even when she could handle it. She didn't care about his interest in the work she was doing, only in his interest in her so when he pulled the 'it's not you it's me' crap she let out a loud, hard and annoyed groan before letting the fabric fall. "Ew," she exclaimed.

"Ew. Ew, ew, ew EW!" Her expression was as dramatic as it was full of disbelief. "Are you actually pulling that line Bellamy? Are you serious!?" Heavily, she sighed and shook her head-- blonde curls bouncing almost sweetly, though her ivory skin was a little more red than usual. She wasn't blushing. Well, maybe a little- but that blush was a product of attraction, anger, annoyance and irritation. Such a stupid line. "That line hasn't worked in centuries Bellamy-- what did you learn it in some 22nd century chick flick?-- Ew. Gag. Maybe try that line on somebody who actually falls for that cop out crap." With an exaggerated eye roll she continued her work, thinking about what he said. "Bellamy, we're both adults okay? You don't have to make lame ass excuses." 

Sometimes she knew she could be intense. Hell, her own husband had to tell her to dial it back sometimes but he was gone- probably under a thousand pounds of burning rubble. It was easy to fly off the handle without anyone to vent to at the end of the day. It was harder to smile politely and hold back the internal screaming. "Let you know when I find one." she scoffed a little and shook her head before closing off the stitch. "What's the reason if it's not me. Why is it you?" She asked as she held up the finished jacket with an arched brow.

OWL

[Bellamy Blake]

Tag: Bambi Prim Hills

whatever

THE HELL WE WANT

Her reaction would have been amusing had it not been made at his expense. Then again, it was an expected response. Albeit a dramatic one, but still an expected one -- at least to a certain extent. When she went on about the line, he couldn't withhold a slight smirk forming on his face at her obvious reaction. He knew he shouldn't be amused by it, unsure if that was even the accurate word to use. But alas, his expression was as such.

It did sound like a cop out, that was true. But then, he wasn't used to situations like this before. Never having had a girlfriend before Gena, he never had to dismiss anyone who was interested. He often expressed the mutual interest, it was . . . met, explored, and that was it. Life went on. But now, it was different. Not bad different of course. But it left Bellamy unfamiliar with how to fully reject someone. Saying the words 'I have a girlfriend' sounded so . . . cliché. Odd.

But was that all that needed to be said? She assured him that he didn't need to make up excuses, and then asked him what it was. She wasn't going to let this go. "Yeah," he answered, accepting that blame. It was him. For . . . reasons. "And for the record, I've never actually used that line before. Until now." It had been a somewhat sarcastic line . . . now met with an equally sarcastic statement. Only in the sense that he wouldn't imagine using that kind of cliché, overused excuse.

"Why is it so important to you to have a reason?" He asked, trying to turn this around a little bit. After all, it was far easier to talk about other people, rather than himself. It was what he was most accustomed to in life; focusing on others . . . rather than himself. Living for others, rather than himself. He reached out for the jacket, unsure whether this conversation would be prolonged now that the task at hand was complete. At the same time, he didn't exactly want to leave on an overly bad note. Months ago, he wouldn't have cared. But a lot had changed since then. And he wasn't about hurting other people's feelings -- as juvenile as that may sound.