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"We save those who
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Post by Bellamy Blake on Oct 31, 2018 1:10:28 GMT
Bellamy Blake was born to a single mom in a middle to lower class family. Seeing his mother work so hard to give him -- and later his sister -- a life of affordability inspired him, wanting to be the one to take care of his family. He did extremely well in school, allowing him to graduate early and attend university on a full scholarship. It was from here that he finished his degree in a short amount of time, and was enrolled in Police Academy soon after. Showing promise, he moved through the ranks quickly, and is one of the youngest -- if not youngest -- detectives in his Department. He continues to provide the best for his mother and sister. My family, my responsibility.
[Note: left Aurora alive for now in cause the mun wants to bring in the muse! And didn't want to god mod Octavia too much! Should we get an O on the site, I may change things around after some discussion!]
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Arker
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Post by Bellamy Blake on Aug 12, 2018 16:17:04 GMT
whatever THE HELL WE WANT Bellamy smirked in return, running his hand through his hair as he listened to her explain that his moves were predictable. "I'm only as good as my teacher," he said with clear playful teasing in his voice. Truth was, he wanted to learn as much as he could. He wanted to get better. If they were to return to Earth in the projected 5 year time frame . . . well, who knew when this combat training could come in handy.
And guard training didn't compare to Grounder training; the training grounders had far surpassed. Some of them were born warriors. "But I'll also admit something," he said taking a few steps towards her, now standing directly in front of her. He leaned in as if about to kiss her but instead, abruptly paused and spoke. "You are a pretty damn good teacher," he complimented, a way of appeasing his earlier joking tease with what was now the truth, as he moved back a little, that same unwavering smile upon his lips.
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Arker
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Post by Bellamy Blake on Aug 12, 2018 16:04:19 GMT
whatever THE HELL WE WANT Bellamy had a rare moment of solitude, alone in his tent, trying to collect his thoughts. He was looking at a makeshift map, one that they had all managed to create based on patrols and what they knew thus far of the wooded area. His hands were on the table, head lowered to intently study the area . . . until a voice broke through just as easily as the person did through his tent flaps. Bellamy straightened and look at Leiana, clear fear in her voice and evident on her face.
She wasn't the only one. Bellamy knew that it was not only strategy that would make them victorious, but also . . . morale. And going after the three missing people right now was something he knew a few of them were fixed on doing. Leiana was apparently among them. "We go out there now, we'll divide our forces." They did not have the advantage of numbers. But they had the advantage of guns. "We need to fortify our position here first. Then we'll worry about the others." It could after all be a way to lure them out; break into separate groups. Which, was going to be extremely dangerous. "We have to stay as one force right now. It's too damn risky." He wasn't dismissing the possibility of going after them . . . but that could also be exactly what the Grounders wanted.
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Post by Bellamy Blake on Aug 5, 2018 20:28:18 GMT
whatever THE HELL WE WANT Bellamy hated night time. When all others were asleep, and he was forced alone with his thoughts. There was only so much he could do without someone else taking notice and forcing him to retire to his room. But he hated it. Every time he closed his eyes, he could see them. He could hear them. The people he had gotten to know, the people who had placed their trust in him, the innocent children . . . he had killed them all.
He had barley heard the footsteps approached and only turned his head to look at the door when he heard a voice: Leiana. There was a very, strong loyalty that Bellamy had to the delinquents in particular. He had a great deal to make up for and going into Mount Weather to help save them barley covered it. "Sure," he responded, relieved for some sort of distraction, though at the same time, was concerned that something was wrong. "Everything ok?" He asked, wanting to make sure. While he knew that nothing was ok, no one was okay . . . he just hoped there was no other immediate threat. They needed time to recover from Mount Weather, for the emotional and psychological scars would take far longer to heal -- if they ever would -- compared to the physical ones.
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Post by Bellamy Blake on Aug 4, 2018 18:53:20 GMT
whatever THE HELL WE WANT Bellamy had nearly forgotten about the marks on his face, his mind preoccupied with more than the physical beating he had taken from Dax. The ghosts surrounding him more prominent on his mind. But Leiana's reaction was . . . surprising. He wasn't even sure if that was the right word. But there was a genuine care in her voice and expression. Not to mention her movement as she moved to his side, gently placing a hand on his shoulder. A further comforting touch, yet one that Bellamy knew he didn't deserve. Particularly in recognizing that they had interactions before the ground.
No. Bellamy had killed 300 people. He had tried to kill Jaha. His mother was dead because of him. There was so much blood on his hands; blood was far outweighed any spilled from Dax's actions. "I'm fine," he said dismissively, the guilt too much to bare to even maintain eye contact with her as he averted his head back to polishing the gun. "It was Dax," he revealed, knowing it was no secret since his missing presence would be noticed. "It's, a long story," he added on. "Main thing is that he's dead. I'm not." Yet, he didn't even find relief in his words. They were spoken just as mere fact. "How are you feeling?" He asked, briefly looking at her before back at the gun. "Heard the Jobi nuts did quite the number on everyone." Including him and Clarke, so Bellamy couldn't even imagine what had happened at camp. At least everyone seemed to be safe for the most part.
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Post by Bellamy Blake on Aug 4, 2018 18:13:38 GMT
whatever THE HELL WE WANT The trip to the woods had taken . . . many unexpected turns. From getting high off the food, to Dax's assassination attempt . . . to the emotional revelation. It was long coming, but never did he think he would break down in front of Clarke. Without a doubt, the Jobi nuts played a part. But still. Bellamy had left without the intention of returning to camp, and everything had changed. Including his mindset. He now returned with more commitment than ever before. Clarke even reassured him that she would personally speak to Jaha about pardoning him. But for right now, they were sorting the next big thing. Guns. They had briefly spoken to the delinquents about it, and Bellamy would start selecting people who would train with him and be on a make shift militia.
He told Clarke he would keep guard of the guns tonight, not wanting any delinquents to get their hands on them. Dax could just be one of many of them with their own ploy. As Bellamy was wiping one of them, lost in his own thoughts, Leiana came bursting in, clearly looking for Clarke. Bellamy didn't look up from his task. "She's in her tent," he answered. Probably resting. It had been a hell of a day. And she had taken a beating in the stomach from Dax. Bellamy was glad that he at least got the brunt of it, as evidenced by his damn face. But when she asked about what this all was, Bellamy raised his gaze from his seated position and looked at her. "This," he began to say, slightly holding up the gun he was currently polishing. "Is what is gonna give us a fight chance against the damn Grounders." Because now, they could fight. Long range. And that, was going to give them one hell of an advantage.
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Post by Bellamy Blake on Aug 4, 2018 18:02:44 GMT
 Tag: cherry1 Note: Better layout coming soon! YAYAYAY FOR THE MUSE RETURNING!!! LIKEWISE!!!!! whatever THE HELL WE WANT Bellamy couldn't help but let out a bit of a smile of amusement at her words. Being sappy. A luxury that he wasn't often granted. And one he was very selective about as it were. There weren't many he felt comfortable about being so vulnerable around. Raven though, was one of the few that he was. "Guess I'll have five years to think about how to do that," he teased in return, taking another sip.
When she moved the cup towards him, Bellamy filled it without hesitation. "Hope you're not a lightweight," he teased her in return. Because despite the circumstances, despite everything they had lost . . . it was still, easy to be in her presence. It felt easy to tease her, as she did him. That comfort was the exact reason that Bellamy had specifically asked her if she was with him. He needed her. They all did. But for Bellamy, it was not just about her brains. He needed on an emotional level, and admitting that . . . well, wasn't exactly easy.
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Post by Bellamy Blake on Aug 4, 2018 17:54:01 GMT
we did WHAT WE HAD TO DO It had been a few days since the Mount Weather massacre, and while things were falling into place, it felt as if had just been moments ago that Bellamy had aided in committing genocide. Perhaps it was the sting of what came after. Clarke's departure mainly, leaving bitter and resentful feelings within Bellamy. Worse that he found out about what he intention was with the missiles launching for Tondc. And the fact that his sister was there. But not only his sister: Lincoln too. Two people that he . . . that he what? He wasn't even sure. He only knew that Clarke's betrayal was too fresh in his mind. And Lincoln's. Could it count as betrayal? Bellamy didn't know.
What he did recognize was that he had been far more hurt than he had ever expected to be by Lincoln's actions. Had he not helped him through detox? Was he not there enough for Lincoln while transforming from Reaper back to Grounder? Bellamy hadn't the faintest idea. He didn't know a lot of things right now. But the sting of so many betrayals, coupled with the lack of understanding as to what point Bellamy had allowed himself to be so . . . emotionally invested in Lincoln, left him confused. And so, the Arker just threw himself in the work that needed to be done in Arkadia. Aiding where he could, and avoiding Lincoln.
Or well, at least not actively seeking him out. Lincoln was still here; Bellamy supposed that counted for something. But it wasn't until something reached Arkadia that Bellamy knew he -- for whatever reason -- was compelled to be the one to tell Lincoln. Maybe he already knew, considering it was the laws of his people. but none the less, Bellamy had to relay the message. Making his way to Lincoln's designated quarters, he noticed the door was open, and very slowly pushed it a bit more, seeing Lincoln standing there near his bed. Seeing him acknowledged just how futile his attempt to suppress his emotions had been. He was an absolute mess of them. "There's a kill order issued against you." For not following the rest of the Grounders in their retreat.
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Post by Bellamy Blake on Aug 4, 2018 16:19:45 GMT
AREN'T THEY?!?! SUCH CUTE LIL CHIBIS!!!!!
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Post by Bellamy Blake on Aug 4, 2018 16:16:12 GMT
whatever THE HELL WE WANT Bellamy looked back in front of him, the rustling of leaves in the distance indicating that Roma was not far. And still, Bellamy was ready for the unexpected. With the grounders out there, he wouldn't be entirely surprised if they suddenly emerged from the trees.
"You're the one who brought it up," he stated, eyes still focused on the area in front of him. When he saw her unmistakable hair in the distance, he let himself relax a little. "Word of advice," he turned to look back at the delinquent. "Start worrying about yourself. And how you're gonna keep from going hungry." Because Bellamy had every intention of keeping to the exchange of food for the removal of the bracelet. With that, Roma brushed past him, expectantly as he turned to follow her back inside his tent.
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Post by Bellamy Blake on Aug 4, 2018 16:09:26 GMT
whatever THE HELL WE WANT Bellamy was glad to hear that he at least didn't wake her. Nor did she seem too disturbed by his presence. He casually stepped in a little more, still lingering near the door but was now at least in her room. How did he even bring up the subject? Her question provided a clear entry to the subject.
"I'm fine," he answered quietly. As fine as to be expected considering the circumstance they were all under. "How's Emori holding up?" While there was genuine concern for her, it wasn't the purpose he had come here. Bellamy was still trying to figure out what to say, how to say it. But at least this was a safe subject for the time being. Besides, if Emori was anything like how Murphy was handling it . . . Bellamy could only imagine how much support she would need from her friends.
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Post by Bellamy Blake on Aug 3, 2018 20:01:21 GMT
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Post by Bellamy Blake on Aug 2, 2018 16:49:06 GMT
whatever THE HELL WE WANT Bellamy held her in his arms longer than necessary. Or so it felt like. Mere moments felt like an eternity, as he fought back the tears. He had spent his life, dedicated to protecting Octavia. And now? He was the reason that she could die. He had to believe that she wouldn't. He had to believe that she could fight this. But, he knew the risks. And he had done it anyway. But no. This was not Octavia. This was Bloodreina. And he only wished he could kill the darkness in her to get his sister back. He called for the guards who rushed in, concern filling the room and fear over the reality that their leader was now fallen. Everything happened in a blur, Bellamy explaining what happened before leaving the scene once Octavia was settled onto her bed.
Making his way through the halls, he tried to cease the trembling of his hands. Continued effort to hold back the tears. He only stopped walking when he found a secluded area, closing his eyes and try to calm his racing heart. What had he done? A voice cause his eyes to open as he turned to look at Clarke. Indra must have freed her, and he couldn't deny there was some relief in that. "She was poisoned," Bellamy said, the words straining to come out but not as much as the next ones. "Clarke I . . . I poisoned her." A slight breathlessness in his voice as his gaze fell down to his hands. The hands that held Octavia when she was brought into this world. The hands that held her so many times when she cried. And now, the hands that could have very well killed her.
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Post by Bellamy Blake on Aug 2, 2018 16:41:01 GMT
we did WHAT WE HAD TO DO If smiling was an expression of ease, then perhaps one would have touched his lips. But as it was, it seemed an impossibility to form. Lincoln returned the question and Bellamy wasn't even entirely certain how to answer. "Guess I'm just . . . handling it." That was as honest as he could be. He was handling it. What else could he do? He couldn't turn his back on his people. He couldn't just run away. The demons would follow him. They would continue to haunt him.
So every waking moment would need to be spent in ensuring the betterment of their people. He knew that this wasn't peace. It was only a matter of time until the next battle or war. But at least for now, they all would have a chance to breathe, no matter how much it hurt. "Octavia said that you guys are staying." At least for now. He had no doubt that her reasoning was more for Bellamy's sake than her commitment to the Arkers. Because well, he knew how she felt about them. But Bellamy asked the question to find out what Lincoln's own thoughts were on it.
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Post by Bellamy Blake on Aug 2, 2018 16:31:07 GMT
whatever THE HELL WE WANT Maybe the words should have stung more. Or perhaps Bellamy on some level had been expecting them. Or . . . and this was probably the most accurate reason: Bellamy just didn't believe her. "See other people," he repeated, an underlying scoff in his tone. "You waited six years to tell me that?" The question holding a hint of sarcasm, as well as a rhetorical inquiry. He remained silent for a few moments, jaw clenched, unmoving from where he stood. "I look at Octavia and I . . . don't even recognize her anymore." The realization causing his heart to ache. Someone that was once the centre of his world, now someone else. Someone, darker.
"I look at you and . . ." He paused for a moment, eyes resting upon Niylah. "You can't even look at me long enough." He flickering gaze, often averting any eye contact since the moment he had entered this damn bunker. "If you mean what you say, then look at me. Right in the eyes and say it." Tell him that she didn't love him. "And I won't bother you again." Fighting for the ones he loved was something Bellamy had spent the entirety of his life doing. But . . . who were these people? Where were the ones he loved within this bunker? Was it too late? He didn't know. Perhaps he would never stop fighting for them, but he needed to know just how fargone they were before . . . well, before he truly let his heart break.
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