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Guilt quaked the boy, regret settling in not long after he’d spoken the very words of animosity that he wished he could take back. That wasn’t him. What he had just not was not at all reflective of how he truly felt. Bellamy had been good to him. Bellamy had taken him in, cared enough to provide him with materials and knowledge and to take the time that no one else had. “Bellamy…” He couldn’t bring himself to look at the older boy at first, though his voice was soft and raspy. Truth be told, Blake wasn’t much different than him in the sense that he was far too great at concealing his emotions, or just pretending like he didn’t have any. Jacques knew that wasn’t the truth, though.

His stare lifted quickly, searching for that of his Commander’s even if Bellamy wouldn’t look at him, he needed to make amends to make right for his hateful outburst. “Bellamy, I didn’t mean that..” Apologies were the rarest thing to ever stem from Roux. Not that he was incapable of understanding when he was wrong, or that he did little wrong -- more so that he didn’t care to make right whatever mistakes he’d made by others. But with Bellamy, things were different. This was someone that he cared for. And that much was evident by the plaguing sensations that were attacking all sensory functions at this time.

“I do care,” he protested with silent pause. “I do give a shit.” The boy was shaking his head, vision deterring once more. “I give a shit about a lot of things, I’m just not the best at expressing it. And..” The truth gates were opening. “And it’s just easier for me to pretend I don’t.” He wasn’t even sure if Bellamy was listening anymore. Maybe he was the sort who got his pride stung and walled up. But Jacques needed him to hear this.

Stepping forward, he reached out to grab at the sleeve near the wrist of Bellamy’s shirt in an effort to gain and pull his attention. He didn’t let go immediately either, “I’m trying, Bell.” All ego had left the room. That was the most genuine thing he’d ever told anyone else and also the most true. He let his hand fall away, but not before adding a final note: “And I do care about you..” Realization hit as he realized what he’d actually just done. His voice trailed into a nearly inaudible whisper onto the second half of that sentence, “Or I wouldn’t have done that..”

He moved to pick up and shelter his rifle once again. “Sorry for being an asshole.” And then with the same usual jeer he was known for exhibiting, “I can’t promise it won’t happen again.” The boy looked up from his gun with an impish grin.

TAG: Bellamy Blake WORDS: 474

Jacques had only been teasing with the remark composed in regards to the human trafficking that ensued from Bellamy’s end. Be it as it may, they were in a most compact space now -- much more so than aboard the Ark, even. And because of that, word traveled fast about who was sleeping with who. It wasn’t even just Bellamy. Truth be told, it was common of nearly all the Delinquents at this point. But for some reason, the escapades of their infamous leader, had resonated more deeply with Jac. At least, deeply enough for him to remark on it. But innocent to it all, or simply oblivious, the Arker wore a smug little smirk. He was trying to ease the tension of the situation, or at least tension elsewhere that had developed from the closeness of the two. Damn, he was so stupid for getting flustered like that. What was that shit? Jacques didn’t get nervous. He made people nervous. But boy, did he certainly regret his attempts to lighten the situation with where Bellamy went next. He should have known. Bellamy wasn’t one to take anyone’s shit.

“I..” Jacques froze in place, falling quiet as he could feel his tongue swelling within his mouth. He swallowed nervously, cutting off his speech pattern as his eyes searched nervously against Bellamy’s. He was trying desperately to find some semblance of a grin, a smile, a chuckle to alleviate the stoic disregard that he was being shown. “Wh-What..?” He chuckled himself, still trying desperately to make Bellamy smile. To have that dry expression shattered. To have some simple proof that Bell was kidding in return. But alas, he found none.

A chill resonated throughout the core of the boy, his lips still agape searching for words that would not come. Because in that moment, all he could focus on was the very realization that he was a deer in headlights. And that he had undoubtedly struck a nerve with the only.. -- what would he even call Bellamy at this point? A friend? Because he wanted to. So badly he wanted to. But if things were to be militia oriented, then he supposed it not right to impose the emotionality of friendship upon an environment that only offered room for one hard truth: survival.

Take it back. Jacques, take it back.

If there was one thing Jacques was notorious for being, it was a causal flirt. Hell, he was a full on tease at times. As well as an asshole, an egotistical prick, a snarky little shit, a rebel. The list goes on, really depending upon who you ask. But every bit of it, a defense mechanism in and of itself. The truth? Was that Jacques Roux had never known any sort of intimacy, emotionality, or co-dependence. But co-dependent was exactly what he’d always longed to be. One wouldn’t know it from any run ins with him, however. ‘Bite before you’re bitten, sting before you’re stung. No one can hurt you if you don’t show them the way to your castle.’

Most children were raised receiving some semblance of love, from at least one of their parents. An uncompromisable, unconditional sense of care that came without any attachments or obligations and resonated to remain no matter how badly one’s decisions might be in life. But when the odds are against you from the start, with only one parent: a father, who blames you for the absence of his lover: your mother -- that sort of commodity of love isn’t exactly ever experienced nor understood. Instead, replaced by countless times hiding in the vents of the Ark -- just to cry without being seen. Missing a woman you’ve never known, and longing for the acceptance of a father who openly detests your presence in the world. All while stuffing tiny hands into tiny pockets and storming through the corridor back to his schooling, past hallways filled with the very thing he lacked, witnessing hugs from parents and kisses from lovers that he’d always looked upon with silent envy.

So if that meant he spent a year in Lockup, then that was an easy cost to pay for the night he first defied the odds of the Arkers and learned to swim. It was why he’d been out every day since their arrival on the Ground. It was why he would still continue to defy Bellamy even despite his apology. Jacques didn’t enjoy the coolness of the sea or his dances through the lake because it accomplished some sensation of excitement or freedom or experience of one of nature’s mightiest elements. It was the warmth he felt from within, even against the icy cold. It was the sense of security that came from the water’s powerful embrace. It was the irony of a boy born first from water rather than air, rekindling his roots.

He frowned, looking toward Bellamy now and losing all swagger or playful jeer that was found there before. Jac was resorting to the sole defense mechanism that he oft found when someone had stumbled upon his ‘castle’ in the deadness of night -- anger.

“I don’t give a fuck about who you’re taking to bed.” His brows knitted to denote his aggression. “We don’t all give such a shit about you as you’d like to think.” His gaze was like some aimless void, nothing found within those deep brown hues when his eyes met that of his ‘Commander’s’ now. “We continuing,” he lifted his rifle to denote why he’d come. “Or not?”

’We don’t all give such a shit about you as you’d like to think.’

It was the first lie he’d ever told Bellamy. Because the truth was, even if he wasn’t being honest with himself, Jacques did.

TAG: Bellamy Blake WORDS: 960

Fuck. Why did Bellamy always have to be right? That realization alone was enough to make him eyeroll.

God, I’m so bad at it though.

He wanted to whine. Wanted to, but didn’t. Truth be told, Jacques knew that learning to use a gun was only a polite way of masking the reality of what was occurring: he was learning to kill. For survival, of course. But be that as it may, it was still a very heavy weight and sudden awareness that Jac didn’t truly think himself ready for. He didn’t know if he’d be able to even do what he was was supposed to when it came time for it. Snarky as he may be, that’s really all the boy was: all bark, no bite. No way, even being trained and equipped, he’d be able to take down any Grounder -- no matter how threatening they may be.

Jacques had looked up to Bellamy, significantly, even in the short time they’d been departed from the Ark. Sure he may have given him lip or sass at times, but he was undoubtedly the tender heart of the gang, even if he didn’t always show it. Bellamy was like the fatherly figure he’d never had. No, that’s not right, more akin to an older brother. But even that was far off because for Jacques to brand him as such would mean that he had to deny the very real attraction that he felt toward their new found leader, despite his never revealing such (not even entirely to himself). Why? Because it was impossible. He wasn’t entirely sure Bellamy swung in that direction and the guy clearly had more important tasks to take care of.

No way, Jacques, don’t kid yourself. He’s never even offered you a second look. And that’s saying alot because A LOT of people offer you second looks..

He was just on the bridge of preparing himself to offer up another attempt at correctly wielding the firearm he’d been given, when the anti-Ark leader himself stepped in to provide other plans. And holy shit was Jacques unprepared. His eyes widened as he felt Bellamy slip up to press against him from behind, larger palms mounting atop his while moving to steady his aim and grip upon the rifle.

Rifle. His rifle. I want his rifl-- Jacques, fuck!

Steadily cursing himself for the thoughts that were plaguing his mind now in full force, he could hardly focus. A small breath swept between soft lips, his figure stiff as a means to denote unease at their new found strategic embrace. And then bam, there it was, the reprimand -- buttering him up just to snap the trap shut. Jacques sighed audibly, pulling his cheek inward against his molars to chew against it. When he spoke this time, his voice was softer, void of his usual snark, “I know…”

So you come with me…

The boy relaxed back into the ease of his usual self and haughty swagger, more so once Bellamy had slipped away. It was in that time Jacques decided to get his cards back together before resuming that facade of an egocentric poker face. Having sex with Bellamy? Well, that was one thing. Jacques was pretty much the shag king at this point in their Ground excursions. But enjoying the closeness of their alpha as much as he had? That was a foreign sense of security and emotion that he only felt when swimming.

“I’unno,” he came swinging with a grinning jest. “That the same move you pull on all the girls you traffic in and out of here?” Jacques passed his tongue along the inside of his cheek to stifle the growing smile he wore before turning to face the Blake sibling.

TAG: Bellamy Blake WORDS: 626

Once more with the snark, Raven's rampage continued. And alas, just as before, Jacques remained ever cool. If nothing else, he knew it was irking her that he was acting as nonchalantly as he was. It was like her to pass off his offer of her needing assistance. Afterall, she paraded around Arkadia like she was the most independent and badass of bitches to reign the Ground since the arrival of the Arkers. And maybe she was, Jacques wasn’t discrediting her of that potential, but even the mightiest of lions often times needed the aid of mice.

The kid was notorious amongst his peers for having been the ‘Aquaboy’ of the Ark. When kids committed crimes that were out of the ordinary, information spread fast and rumors spread faster. He had contaminated a month’s worth of the Ark’s water supply, sure. But he had also been the first to swim, and one of the only ones capable of doing so here on the Ground amongst their crew. That was a potential asset, and a potential asset that he felt Raven just might need. Water had brilliant healing capabilities, and aquatherapy was not uncommon amongst those who had roamed Earth before them -- at least, that’s what research had shown.

After she offered vicious threat in regards to his apple munching, Jacques finally turned to look back upon her. The corner of his lips curled upward into a smug grin, taking a beat of a moment to stare her over after. She was cute when she was barking. “Lucky for both of us, you’re not my type.” He was strongly hinting at his preference toward men. And with that, while his eyes were locked dead within her own, he brought that same fruit to his maw before sinking pearlescent canines into its juicy core. Another bite, and this one he purposefully chewed without ever breaking their stare.

After swallowing the confinements of his latest snack, Jacques kicked one ankle to over-cross his other, swinging them idly to and fro. “You know, I understand your hesitation on trusting me..” He casually shrugged a shoulder. “I’m young. I’m trouble. I’m loads of fun.” He turned toward her with a cocky smirk, “And let’s face it, I’m the prettiest thing here.” A playful wink followed suit. “But I also know how to keep a secret.” He nodded toward her with a dip of his head, taking another bite from the fruit. This time he was talking with a mouthful, “And I just might be able to help you get back on your feet.” The boy offered a slurp, before choking the rest of the apple down. Another beat passed, awkwardly glancing down toward her bad leg. “Well, foot.” Sure, he was an asshole, but he was at least lovable -- or at least he certainly thought he was. “So you can beat my ass,” he quoted her previous threat before pointing a judgmental finger in her direction. “You promised, remember?”

TAG: cherry1 WORDS: 483

Jacques didn’t really seem to take much noticeable offense to her snarky or snappy remarks. Whether that was because it simply didn’t get to him, or because he didn’t really care enough to let it wasn’t entirely discernible. Still cool as he was upon first arrival, the only indication he offered in response was an aloof quietness that was coupled with his palm lifting that green orb to his mouth once more. Another bite. More chewing. Though in his own quiet way, he was silently letting her bask in her guilt for quipping at him. He sadistically found enjoyment in her feeling bad and she should have! Jacques was only trying to offer help, and in his mind if she was going to bite the hand that tried to feed her, then she’d only end up drowning in her own venom. Plus, Jacques was never this quiet when someone had a smart aleck comment to shoot off at him. But, he also knew first hand what it was like to have trouble coming to terms with issues that were outside of one’s control. He also knew what it was like to be alone in your own emotions because pushing everyone away was just.. easier. Lucky for them both, Jacques never enjoyed anything easy.

After the small beat came to pass and she spoke again to break the silence asking if he needed anything (in a much kinder tone as well), Jacques took her follow-up as an unspoken means of an apology. That was good enough for him. Moving over toward her, he didn’t hesitate to ask before walking right up and making himself a seat down beside her. Still not eager to reply, he instead swung his legs idly back and forth from the rise at which his seat offered his shorter stature. The boy took another bite of his apple while idly glancing around at the nearby scenery. Seconds seemed like minutes as he took his time on chewing this bite, just as he had the ones before it. He shook his head while speaking casually, “No. But you do.” He purposefully didn’t pull his stare to look at her leg while mentioning it, instead still glancing around while taking another bite from the fruit.

“So, I think the better question is…” It wasn’t until this very moment that he even turned to look upon her. His lips showed no smile or expressive feature at all. His eyes, on the other hand, were gleaming with mischievousness. “Do you?”

TAG: cherry1 WORDS: 419

NOTES: My headcanon totally made symbolism with Raven, Jacques, and his apple in this post. Eve, the serpent, and the apple.

Defiance was something that always seemed to come about as a result of something else. Defiance was a way to deal with grief, oppression and unjust actions. But there was a fine line between that which was sensible, and that which wasn't. Some things just simply can't be changed nor helped in life, and to express such over an issue that you cannot impact shows very little reason and much more angst. That was a lesson that Jacques was still coming to learn himself. There was a sense of outrage and unwavering aggression built up for years over the loss of his mother, especially having never met her. But despite all of his hatred toward what had happened, being angry about it would only prolong his dissatisfied feeling. Sometimes life deals cards that might not be the best, but there's always a way through and always a way past it and a future after it. Perhaps the same could be said about bum legs...

Jacques had been wearing a triumphant grin around camp lately, especially having taken to research the location of the lake Octavia and the others had reported her attack occurring at. For months now, he'd been exploring on his own, having private excursions in search of safe aquaculture grounds. Not that anything was truly safe on the Ground, but some bodies of water and its flora and fauna were more peaceful than others. It was simply about diligence. And having not been much on patience, if there was one thing Jacques was persistent about, it was reconvening with the only memory he had of his mother. And ever since the events at Mount Weather, he'd been able to do just that on a near daily basis. Not that Jacques venturing out without a weapon or gun of any sort was something Bellamy was thrilled about, but what Bellamy didn't know? Wouldn't hurt him.

With an apple in hand, he brought it to his dimpled features to take yet another bite from it before giving it a small toss up into the air and catching it back within the same palm. It was rare that Jacques was complacent, but today was one of those days. Peace, after his morning swim, and then.. some very loud cursing to take him into the turn of daytime.

Jacques quirked a brow, turning his gaze toward the direction where it had come from. The voice certainly sounded familiar. Curiosity got the better of the boy, his trek taking him closer in, until the unknown broke way to reveal a very flustered, very angsty Raven. And here lately with what had happened to her leg? It was no secret that she was having a hard time dealing with it, not to anyone in Arkadia. An especially rare act for the notorious Aquaboy of the Ark, he found himself concerned, or at the very least intrigued. "You know," he paused to take another bite from the ripe fruit within his hand, cheek swelling as he chewed quietly. "You should try and keep it down." He was wearing that same classic, half-crooked grin he was known for bearing so often. "Some of us have virgin ears.." His smile stretched further, either palm lifting with apple still in tow to mime covering his own ears. He was trying his best to take her mind off of it, or at least impose an effort to make her smile.

TAG: cherry1 WORDS: 571
NOTES: Okay, so something Jacques is nice. Maybe.