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Nov 26, 2020 21:43:23 GMT
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Post by Clarke Griffin on Nov 4, 2015 0:56:58 GMT
- Bellamy is a cuddler | touchey feely person. You can see it when he sleeps with someone. He might be clear about his intentions of this being a one night thing, but then he holds the girls at night, he kisses them after. He's a cuddler.
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Post by Clarke Griffin on Nov 3, 2015 1:19:47 GMT
“I don’t think that will ever happen. If it would have, it would have by now.” She had been clear about her lack of intentions with him. Her feelings were still complicated, but she was still just hurt by it. If he would try, hard, to make it better, it might work, she might want to be with him, but working on it did not include running after her not accepting no for an answer. Working was actually caring for any of the girls feelings, doing what they needed. Clarke wasn’t sure what Raven needed, but to her it looked a lot like both needed just distance for now. Distance was not something he gave them.
“It wasn’t the first time. He usually comes into the clinic, though. No matter what kinds of patients I have.” Clarke sighed. He had opened pandoras box with this question, though. Clarke didn’t have many people to talk to about it. She guessed Raven wouldn’t want to here, a lot of her other friends were male or younger, so she couldn’t tell them. She didn’t feel like she could bother them with it. It shouldn’t even be something she should want to talk about. On the Ark it would be so easy to go to someone. Wells, her trusted friend, whose grave she couldn’t visit anymore. Clarke had set up a small kind of shrine or memorial for him, but it just wasn’t the same. “He doesn’t get that he hurt us. He doesn’t get that he hurt us enough for us to not want to play by his weird rules. They got us hurt before.” It wasn’t much, but somehow she just knew Bellamy would understand.
“It is. Better than on the Ark and better than at the dropship, too. I never thought I’d see the ocean, let alone to learn how to swim in it.” Though swimming was a bit over the top. She was bouncing in the water still, floating at best, but not yet really swimming. Clarke followed Bellamy slowly as he asked since when she called him Bell. Clarke still couldn’t exactly tell. She really only just started, nor could she tell why. “I don’t know, I guess it just happened. Maybe I got lazy. Does it bother you? I can stop. Don't know where exactly it came from."
Bellamy Blake
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Post by Clarke Griffin on Nov 1, 2015 0:50:48 GMT
“He…” That was a good question. It had come to it that Clarke preferred almost anyone’s company over Finns. His behavior, while still trying to win her over, had gone to one that made it so very clear why. He didn’t want to be alone. It wasn’t because he chose either of the girls. This was for him to feel better, not for them as a couple. He really had to take lessons from Bellamy. Clarke couldn’t suppress a small smile at that. Finn hated being compared to Bellamy, because he usually lost. It was for the simple fact that while Bellamy decided with his heart, he used his brain as well and that was a quite clever brain, too. He knew not to disrespect women. He knew when to let them go, when to just hold them.
“I didn’t stay to find out.” Clarke finally admitted. “If it was about his health he would have stopped me, whined and what not.” He would not have sucked it up, not here. Here nobody had to suck it up, even though she suspected at least one of them did, maybe more at his order. In the end even though Clarke was busy here, she never suffered from too little sleep, there was always at least one evening when it stayed suspiciously quiet and somehow she attributed it to either Bellamy, Octavia or Raven. Maybe the kids did that on their own as well. “And anything else – well you and I both know he’s not exactly the one anyone should listen to when it comes to any political decision. I doubt I have to remind you of the fiasco at the bridge." Though, in a way this new place, their new home, was due to the fiasco at the bridge.
“Are you always up this early, Bell?” Clarke couldn't even tell when she had started to call him Bell. It was new. Maybe it started just yet. Maybe he would hate it.
Bellamy Blake
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Post by Clarke Griffin on Nov 1, 2015 0:33:47 GMT
“Good. We don’t have much to offer.” They would with time maybe, but it was not right now. In the future things might get different with that, once her people figured out how to survive without the help of kids, but this was weeks, if not months away. Until then children or barely adults were in charge, despite not officially having the authority to be in charge. She would carry this burden until her friends were safe and the lives of all were in relative quite waters, though Clarke didn’t know how to do that. It would all work out. Eventually they could all live in peace, right?
“I have no plans.” Clarke answered. For right now that was true. “I go to where I am needed the most. Right now I am needed here, to wait for a signal from inside the mountain once the radio is fixed. I don’t know what will happen in a few hours.” Or even mere minutes. All was so very unpredictable to her. The worst case scenario was that they would wait in vain, that there would never be a signal and she failed in her yet so very simple task of protecting the people she loved, of saving them. Clarke didn’t know if she could handle this failure. “For now we can all stay here. They will call us if there is news from within the mountain. I’ll certainly stay and try to rest. We don’t know when we will have another chance at resting.”
Yvette
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Post by Clarke Griffin on Oct 31, 2015 22:18:53 GMT
It felt like the small childs distress was stressing her out as well. Clarke held a newborn, barely a few hours old in her arms. He was a sweet little thing, but he hasn’t stopped crying. On top of it, he was probably through hell already. He survived the crash of the Ark while in the womb of his mother – something a fragile fetus could easily not have survived. He was a survivor. His mom died in childbirth. Clarke was still emotionally damaged by that. With the sickness going on that killed the mother, she was just the first of a handful of people that would meet their ends. Now she was left as the one having to care for the baby boy. And he kept on crying. Clarke, not a mother herself, was at a loss. Apart from her own mother, there was only really one person she knew could help, if he had time.
Her and Bellamy had positions of authority in the camp now, so she had to ask around for him as he was most likely to be busy. The others directed her and the little screamer inside the Ark. She didn’t care what was inside the room Bellamy was in. She just opened the door – the screamer had announced her in a way – eyes scanning the people for Bellamy instantly. “Bellamy? I need your help with him, desperately. I don’t know how to calm him down and I might be in charge of him for the next few days.” Or maybe longer until there was a proper adoptive family.
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Post by Clarke Griffin on Oct 30, 2015 0:48:27 GMT
His movements, the movement of muscles beneath the skin that she had was not sure she actually saw, but knew where there, were certainly a sight to wake up to, one she could get used to. This world didn’t have too many pleasantries with survival their main priority these days. And Clarke had to help lead them. On top of it she was their healer and with her knowledge from the Ark she was also helping the Grounders. She was a busy person. And as such she had managed to escape the unpleasant things around Raven and Finn, Jasper and others struck with PTSD and what not for most of the time, unless medicinal knowledge was needed. She had her clinic, her trips, she could really chose who to spend time with and right now, due to what all of them had been through, there were not many people she wanted to spend time with.
Clarke didn’t notice Bellamys change in expression, though. She had just noticed the way he moved to invite her to join him, so she turned around only to bump right against Finn. Finn, the guy who failed to mention his girlfriend, among other things. Things had gotten increasingly weird with him. Sometimes it was almost like he was actively trying to sabotage their leadership, but usually not by disagreeing with Clarke, but with Bellamy, almost directly. One order given by Bell, Finn might do the complete opposite until Clarke backed Bellamys order. And the amount of times he approached both her and Raven, as if… as if his life depended on getting back together with either one of them, giving both of them a clear feeling of how much he just appreciated and loved them. Clarke wished he’d return to normal, but until then, she just wanted to avoid him. He looked at her hopeful, carrying something that might be breakfast, but as Bellamy had just motioned for her to join him, she quickly took the escape route he offered, buying herself a little bit more of peace on this beautiful morning. “Sorry, Bellamy might need me.”
With that she made her way down to the beach, completely disregarding her state of undress – she wasn’t undressed, she was just wearing short shorts and a tank under a thin robe in which she tended to sleep here – and no shoes, of course. IT felt like she reached Bellamy in record time. “Saved by the Bell.” Clarke announced before her mind could catch up with the glorious sight of sweat and water clinging to the magnificent body.
Bellamy Blake
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Post by Clarke Griffin on Oct 30, 2015 0:38:33 GMT
From a healer to a potential healer to be - want to do something? Maybe when Clarke might be with the Grounders? Collecting herbs?
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Post by Clarke Griffin on Oct 29, 2015 22:41:30 GMT
“Maybe I will. Maybe the Azgeda will cross paths with them in the future and the question will be answered that way.” Why did she say maybe? She knew how things worked in this world. The Arkers needed the Grounders. Clarke knew they would need the help of the Grounders. They might be preparing for one winter now, but only just looking around, Clarke knew that they would meet struggles in other winters, they would meet struggles in summer as well. She had heard just too much to give in to illusions of this life being easy. They needed the Grounders knowledge of how to survive. Without the Grounders here, Clarke would not know how to dress warm, but not heavy. She might even have fallen victim to the biting cold of winter – actually it was more than likely.
“Thank you.” Clarke whispered. She did agree, this was life, for many. She lived, she had a pulse, but life, the joy and pain of it, was no longer what one could understand as it. Not for her. Life was a difficult topic in Clarkes life now. She could no longer define living as a life for her. It was complicated. “I don’t understand, though. Lexa turned away from us so fast, yet despite what your Queen did to her, she clings to this alliance. Why do you agree to it? What does the alliance bring to you? Your people don’t strike me as the kind of people to follow her without questioning her."
Isa
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Post by Clarke Griffin on Oct 29, 2015 21:47:21 GMT
Clarke knew that giving her the tea would not be her task. She could give her daughter the tea of course, but given how rare it was for Bellamy to get to feed their daughter, she thought this would be his task. If Hope still wanted to be held by her mother after it, they could always switch back. Given how miserable she was, she would probably demand switches very often. Her and Bellamy would most likely spend their entire day switching the baby between them, trying to make it as comfortable as possible for the small life they both loved so much. Still carrying Hope, Clarke sat down with her babys father. Looking at him, she was already going over how to best get their kid into his arms so he could feed her the tea. Thank god for baby bottles.
“Unfortunately there isn’t. Not down here. Maybe the Grounders know something.” Clarke answered. “Bell, you have to understand that this isn’t bad right now. It might turn bad, yes, but right now her having a fever means just one thing: Her body fights. Her body fights against viruses or bacteria so she doesn’t get sick. A fever isn’t necessarily a bad sign. Sometimes people will have a raised temperature and never get sick because the fever already did the trick. As long as she doesn’t get too warm, she should be okay. She’s still getting antibodies from me, too. If we’re all lucky, she will be fine in no time.” If not, then she’d really get worried about her baby.
“Come on, take your daughter.” Clarke demanded. “I get to feed her so often, I think it’s time Daddy gets to feed her again.” Usually, save for rare exceptions when Clarke had to go be a leader herself, she nursed their kid, but sometimes they had to give her the milk in a bottle. Now it was tea in a bottle. Clarke awkwardly shifted Hope in one arm, took over the bottle, so he could settle their kid before feeding her.
Bellamy Blake
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Post by Clarke Griffin on Oct 29, 2015 1:33:35 GMT
His words made sense. They made so much sense to her. From his point of view she should be able to decide her own life, yet she couldn’t. Or maybe she could. Maybe she should listen to him. Maybe she should talk to Wells, break things off. She only had one life. Break up was no death sentence. She wanted a family, she wanted a husband, who cared for her like her father cared for her mother. Wells cared, yes, but Clarke wasn’t happy. She wanted to be happy. She should be happy, right? Eventually she should be happy in a relationship. But she wasn’t. He was absolutely right about that.
“I guess I will talk to him.” Not today perhaps, but the next day. Whatever would prove to be a good-ish time for it. Not that there was ever the ideal time for it. All she needed was a less bad time for it. She needed Wells to be calm and to understand, which was a tricky time to get with his fathers antics and how things tended to play out. He was a sensible young man and he was busy with his own apprenticeship. Maybe it was not fair to him, but what should she do about it?.
“Thank you, for this advice. It was probably the best advice someone has ever given me.” It was somewhat unbiased, considering he only knew her and could not really form an opinion on Wells yet, or so she thought. Even if not, this was about what she felt. She knew he would be hard on him, there was no way around it in this case. “When do you have your next shift, Bellamy?” She asked curiously. Somehow she didn’t want him to go anytime soon, but if he had to, he had to.
Bellamy Blake
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Post by Clarke Griffin on Oct 28, 2015 2:12:55 GMT
Naaaaaaaaaaaah
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Post by Clarke Griffin on Oct 28, 2015 1:46:13 GMT
And I only liked stuff on Clarke.....
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Post by Clarke Griffin on Oct 27, 2015 23:41:17 GMT
It was different this time There was no blood to wash off her hands, not really. She knew his blood was on her hands as well. It mixed with the others, his voice soon joining the chorus of voices, that rightfully accused her of their murder, yet Clarke knew this would soon change. One voice would drown out all else, his voice had the power to bring her to her knees. Like the man, his memories had the power to shatter, to break her. When they landed on earth, Clarke had expected to die. She had been prepared for her end, to be another victim of the Arks politics. Never in her life would she have expected to find direction in this chaos, like a picture she had once seen: A tiny flower blooming in a desert, defying all rules and logic. He could have been that flower for her. The flower was dead now. It survived the desert, but not a nuclear war. It survived the desert of earth, but not her. He was too pale, too still. Before he left she had told him one thing, had opened up about so much, but not enough. It would have never been enough.
I can’t lose you to Turned into a single tear running down her cheek.
Slowly she understood. He was dead. There was nothing in this world that could bring him back. Clarke saw herself standing in a pile of body, her feet, her legs, her hands drowning in blood of all those people, yet they paled, her eyes still on his lifeless form. He was the only one that mattered. With him Lexa kept her in line. She killed people in the hope of buying him more time, of not exposing him, of protecting the life that was so precious to her. She might as well have run him through with a dagger as well. She might as well have taken his life with her own bare hands. Maybe that would have saved him pain. There was no way they would not have made him suffer. The blonde didn’t want to know, the knowledge of that would be too much for her to handle. She couldn’t do that to the others. They’ve been through too much. Octavia has been through too much. She was falling apart, visibly. How could Clarke allow herself to let go of control now? Where would she let go of control anyway? The one she would have entrusted with it, lay dead in his sisters arm. It was all over.
It was Octavias words, that made a last bit of hope flicker up in her. She couldn’t do much, nothing to bring him back, but at least she could allow Octavia to give her anger a target, to give her a bit of understanding, maybe a bit of closure. Maybe it would be easier for her, if she allowed her to have a clear enemy, someone she could blame, the very person, who really was to blame.
“Yes. It’s my fault. I… I killed him. Serves him right.” For trusting her with her mad plan. She’d never forgive herself for this. Clarke turned around. She didn’t want Octavia to see the pain, the tears that finally ran over her cheeks. If she wanted her to have someone to blame, she couldn’t show pain or weakness. Weakness. She had held him back initially because of a certain form of weakness and now she knew she should have clung to this idea. She should have held on to him, made him stay, she should have continued to be weak, because now she was irrevocably weak. This wound would never heal again. She didn’t want it to.
blake
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Post by Clarke Griffin on Oct 27, 2015 22:14:03 GMT
It was unusual for Clarke to not be alone these days. She could be perfectly alone in a crowd of people. She was good at that, Clarke had known once Finn was dead, she would struggle, not just with others, but with herself. To have Lexa appoint Grounders to follow her, meant she was under constant watch. She could be judged by them. At the same time she had the feeling that their judgment would be different from the judgment of her own people. Her people had a case of short term memory, it would seem. Clarke made her way to one of the more quiet rooms in the crashed Alpha station. She had no tent here yet, no permanent place and somehow with everything happening, the blonde doubted that would ever happen. For the time being she had to stay somewhere and that would be this room.
Clarke turned to the Grounders with her. “I think we should stay in here. Any objections?” It was just a small room, no real decorations, but they were save from wind and weather in here at least. And if Clarke was honest, what difference did it make if they were on the hard floor on the ground outside or on the hard floor inside here. At least they were sheltered. “Do you need anything? Bathroom, food, water?” Maybe to be outside. Clarke would give them what they could offer. Maybe they would want to mingle with the other grounders. In here Clarke should be relatively safe after all.
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Post by Clarke Griffin on Oct 27, 2015 20:26:58 GMT
It was rare for Clarke to be able to sleep in, so rare that her body did not agree with that. Usually Clarke spent the mornings checking in on patients or helping prepare what they needed to do in the day. It was only this morning that provided no work, but a bit of rest that she couldn’t take. Things had settled a lot since they had moved to the coast. The Boat people, the local grounders, did not only leave them alone, they traded with them happily, and especially the mechanical, chemical and healing knowledge the remaining of the 100 had.
Clarke lived in one of the biggest treehouses within the territory of the 100. She lived on the second floor of their clinic as their healer of course. It was better if she could stay close to the patients at night. In the morning it allowed for her to check on them, but since the clinic was empty that day, Clarke got to go outside. She walked onto the balcony around the building to look at the sea. It was such a wonderful place. Had the Grounders not attacked and had Lincoln not managed to warn them, they would not have found this place. They were self sustaining, even the winter was not as cold as where the dropship was. They could even still swim. Fishing kept them alive well. They had fruit and vegetables growing and Clarke and Monty had a herb garden, which Monty sustained mostly.
From her place on the balcony she could see movement from the ocean. Bellamy just got out of the water after apparently an early morning skin. Even from her place she could see the lines of his body, even the muscles. He was a fine specimen of men, if not the most attractive around. In turn the one nobody could really have. Not that she complained about that. The sight in the morning or whenever he decided to go for a swim, was not unwelcome. Absentmindedly biting her lip, she realized she couldn’t keep staring at her half naked co- leader like that. So she just waved, though even that felt awkward at best.
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