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Post by Bellamy Blake on Sept 4, 2016 5:09:25 GMT
whatever THE HELL WE WANT Bellamy of course knew better than to get involved with Klye and Roma. He couldn't force them to get along, nor was it any of his business. So long as they didn't significantly hurt each other. Bellamy cared for them both -- obviously in very different ways. And the fact that Roma was planning on telling him about Alice, most likely in her extravagant Roma type way . . . well, Bellamy only hoped he wasn't around to see the aftermath. But for now, he was going to focus on her. "Go easy on him," he teased her a bit, knowing how hard it had been for Wick with the Raven situation.
"Alice makes him happy." He could see it. "Just like you do for me," he added on with a smile. She then suggested changing clothes and resting before finding Kane. The thought was certainly a tempting one. And, he doubted Kane would mind . . . considering Bellamy hadn't been home for over a month. He would surely understand the need to just be with the person that he loved rather than quickly delve into more work.
Though from Roma's words, this was going to be a different kind of work. "Well when you put it like that . . . " He began to say as they arrived at his quarters, pushing open the door, he waited for her to enter before closing it behind them. "How can I say no?" He asked teasingly, dropping his bag on the ground as he pulled her toward him. This time, he was able to kiss her more passionately with no restraint. "maybe I should get you to explain," he added on playfully, enjoying the thought of her vocalizing what she wanted of him.
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Post by Bellamy Blake on Sept 4, 2016 4:57:21 GMT
whatever THE HELL WE WANT Truth be told, Bellamy didn't know what to expect from Jaha. For having such limited interactions with the man, his past with the former chancellor certainly was an intense one. But Bellamy didn't feel threatened with the way the older male approached him, moving a few steps toward him. His voice was not filled with anger, or resentment for Bellamy's actions. Instead, he spoke of Abby's strictness and then questioned his reasons for being here. Bellamy wasn't in agreement with many of Abby's decisions. She had armed them with weapons when Clarke was out there missing, but refused to allow them to go find the others after Clarke was safe. The hypocrisy was not lost on the once co-leader and he didn't approve of it.
But he wasn't here to share his disagreement with the Chancellor's rulings. He had another reasons for being in the company of Thelonious. "She doesn't know I'm here," Bellamy admitted, finding no risk in informing Jaha of this information. Hell, Bellamy had managed to sneak through security to shoot Jaha, then sneak through more security to get into the dropship -- walking right by Marcus Kane himself. So getting into this makeshift prison on the Ark, was not incredibly difficult.
"You talk about leaving this place. Running." A familiar notion but Bellamy did not want them all to run. Only the specific delinquent whose life was in danger. "My question is . . . where do you plan on going?" Cause they had tried to run before, and had lost people due to it. He wondered what made Jaha confident in this decision. Where he envisioned they would go. There was more curiosity than judgment in Bellamy's voice, for he was genuinely wondering, for the sake of Finn. But that part was left unsaid. For now, he would just appear as if he was willing to support Thelonious' desire to flee.
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Post by Bellamy Blake on Sept 4, 2016 4:45:21 GMT
 Tag: @severitysoftly whatever THE HELL WE WANT Bellamy's jaw clenched at the sight. Jackson's answer not proving to be any more reassuring either. With all the risks that Jackson was taking, the Grounders wouldn't even be grateful. They never were. And if Jackson died because of this . . . then it would only give the younger male more cause to be angry with them. How much more did they have to sacrifice to this group of people before they fully established peace? A mutual kind. Though Bellamy's current thoughts was not rested on politics. He was far more concerned with his partner. With making sure he remained alive and healthy. That he recovered swiftly. That this would not have any long term consequences. The time passed in silence for the most part. Bellamy wasn't sure what he could say in this moment. He could practically feel Jackson's energy leaving him, as he leaned against Bellamy.
Bellamy's eyes remained on the rise and fall of his chest, making sure he was still breathing, that he hadn't faded. One hand went to Jackson's head, running his fingers through his hair in what he hoped was a comforting and soothing manner. Just because they were at odds, didn't mean he would refuse any sort of physical comfort he could offer his lover in this moment. It felt like ages before the patient began to move. Relief that Jackson could stop flooded Bellamy as he watched Jackson remove the needle. He got up too quickly, Bellamy hovering hear him and able to give some support as Jackson fell back onto the stool. Before he could react though, Jackson spoke of needing a bucket, but Bellamy belatedly response cause him to puke on the floor instead. He quickly glanced around the room, finding nothing more than a bowl that he went to get and crouched down in front of Jackson, holding the bowl in front of his weakened partner's mouth so that he could vomit again if he needed to.
Bellamy's hand went to Jackson's cheek, noticing his pale complexion and trying to make sure his temperature was ok. "Just sit," he told him quietly. "Let me know if you still can't walk in a bit," he added on. Because if need be, Bellamy would carry him. His eyes glanced over at the grounders. "We need a room." Because Jackson needed to properly lie down and rest. With their immediate arrival before settling down anywhere, Bellamy didn't even know which quarters would be offered to them. Not that they needed more than one. Bellamy was not leaving Jackson alone. Not for a second.
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Post by Bellamy Blake on Sept 3, 2016 22:30:18 GMT
Tag: Echo , ash , Kyle Wick , @severitysoftly Notes: Just following Jackson's tags! Not a confirmed order so you guys can pick! whatever THE HELL WE WANT Bellamy had asked Jackson to keep guard tonight. There was only so many times he could stay up at night, knowing that it would be counter productive for the group if he didn't allow some sort of rotation. So tonight, Bellamy had found himself actually sleeping -- though how restful it was, still was uncertain. Every time he closed his eyes, he saw the images that would forever haunt him. The bodies. The children. Everything. He doubted they would ever stop . . . but tonight, he was not tossing and turning. He was also a very light sleeper. So when a voice spoke, it immediately lulled him out of sleep. He raised his head, already reaching for his weapon as he went out, wanting to ask if everything was ok, but couldn't leave the post vacant for long. Glancing Jackson's way, Bellamy's eyes looked over the camp before heading to where he stood to keep watch.
It wasn't long after that Jackson returned, saying that they had a problem. This immediately caught Bellamy's attention as he turned around to look at him. The second he saw Jackson . . . well, it was quite obvious that something was wrong. Bellamy's eyes fell to his leg, but before he needed to ask, Jackson explained. The younger male rushed to his side, just in time for Jackson to grip him for support. "Son of a bitch," Bellamy breathed, panic starting to fill him though he showed no sign of it. He needed to remain rational. He moved Jackson's arm around his neck, his own arm around the doctor's waist to help guide him to his tent. "Everyone wake up!" Bellamy announced. "In Jackson's tent, now!" He further announced, pulling back the tent flap as he helped Jackson to lie down on his bed.
Once he was, Bellamy moved to his pant leg, rolling it up so that he could see the damage. He didn't want to remove the bandage but he wanted to see if it was spreading. "We're going to figure this out," Bellamy reassured him, looking to the medic's face. They had to find a way, because . . . there was no way in hell Bellamy was going to lose Jackson. With any luck, Echo or Roan had dealt with snake bites before. One was a scout, the other spending enough times in the woods. He moved to sit next to Jackson, Bellamy's hand on the doctor's forehead to feel his fever, his hand lingering on his burning skin as he stroked Jackson's hair back a little. "It's gonna be ok," he added on, with what he hoped was a reassuring gaze. The thought of losing someone else was . . . unbearable.
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Post by Bellamy Blake on Sept 3, 2016 21:30:26 GMT
Tag: @severitysoftly whatever THE HELL WE WANT Bellamy was not oblivious to the expression on Jackson's face. Nor was he going to amend his words. He was hurt. And feared losing someone else to Grounders. Or losing someone else because of his failure to protect them. This could go either way and the kiss and vocalization of love, was a reminder of that. Bellamy complied to Jackson, knowing that he didn't have any other choice. His partner was doing this regardless. Though Bellamy couldn't help but thinking but assisting him, he could be helping him die. Needing to focus on the matter at hand. Bellamy avoided eye contact with Jackson, aware of his tone. Aware that if when he got out of this, they were going to need to have a talk. But right now, all that he could feel was the fear.
His heart practically racing in his chest. The only thing that kept him composed and stoic in this moment, was the lifelong practice he'd received on the Ark. Having to live with crippling fear every day when protecting Octavia and his mother, but showing no sign of it as that would give him away. The practice came in handy now, when faced with that similar crippling fear of losing someone he loved. But having to stay calm in the wake of the situation. When the needle was in, Bellamy wrapped the tape around it, making sure it was tight enough to hold in place.
Bellamy watched the exchange of blood, unable to keep his gaze on it while it passed into each of them. The distraction of a chair allowed him to focus on something else. Though hardly. He glanced around the room, seeing a stool that would have to do, as he had no intention of leaving the area. He pulled it over to where Jackson stood, his hand moving to his upper arm to help him sit and avoid the insertion to jostle too much.
His arm moved to wrap around Jackson from behind, to give him some support should his body not have the strength to stay sitting up. Considering there was no table here to lie him back on either. "Lean back if you need to," he told him, positioning himself behind his partner securely. "How long will this take?" He questioned, wanting to know the time frame. He hated this. He hated every second of it and the sooner it was over, the sooner they could deal with the potentially unknown consequences. He'd get a bucket later. Right now, he just felt the need to remain close to Jackson.
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Post by Bellamy Blake on Sept 3, 2016 4:38:43 GMT
Tag: @severitysoftly whatever THE HELL WE WANT You won't lose me. Bellamy had heard that, felt that, believed that, all too many times. Too many people died. And if Jackson died now, because Bellamy hadn't tried harder to stop him. Bellamy couldn't accept it. He wouldn't agree with it. When he had promised Jackson he would be more careful, here was Jackson putting his life in danger to save someone. The circumstances were different; the prinicple the same. He didn't have a chance to verbally respond though, because what Jackson did caused Bellamy to still. He closed his eyes when the light brush of his lips was against his mouth.
They didn't often display their affections in public, and the fact that he did now . . . well, it both made Bellamy's heart swell with love and fear. Love, because hearing Jackson say the words, were completely mutual on Bellamy's part. And fear, because if he was kissing him as such . . . then it reinforced the fact that this was indeed risky. That it was dangerous. That he could die. Bellamy slowly opened his eyes when Jackson pulled away, stubbornly telling him that he was going to do it.
Bellamy was fully aware he could use force to stop him, but that was not the kind of relationship he wanted with Jackson. It didn't mean that his decision now didn't hurt. "Then get it over with," he said bluntly, continued disapproval in his voice. He was fully aware that this was part of what made Jackson the man he loved . . . but the mere thought of losing him was just so damn terrifying. He'd lost everyone else and Jackson was quite literally all he had left in the world. So he wouldn't return the words of love.
He would say them to him afterwards, because his mind couldn't even process being with Jackson. "What should I do?" He asked, keeping the conversation focused on the task. Otherwise, Bellamy knew his emotions would get the better of him. Then again, they technically had considering his blunt tone and refusal to support this idea. Still. He wasn't going to just be idle or storm off. Jackson had said earlier that he needed his help. He would do whatever he could to make her his partner was alright. And got out of this alive and well.
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Post by Bellamy Blake on Sept 3, 2016 4:25:36 GMT
whatever THE HELL WE WANT Her response to his words was perfect. The perfect reaction. Her smile, the passionate kiss, her arms wrapped around him. He immediately responded, deepening it further as he let his own emotions pour into the kiss. The love and affection e felt for her. The gratitude he felt for her. Not only gratitude for loving him, but also, for granting him with another precious gift; one that he had never truly known before.
The first was love, the other was a child. And it made him feel a new kind of love for Nina. One that he had never thought possible. The hand on her stomach, slipped under hert shirt, caressing the skin there; a part of her body that would soon grow are their child did. One that would reveal the life growing inside of her. And he couldn't wait to see it. To feel their baby growing each day.
Right now however, he felt the need to not only saw the words of how much he loved her, but express them to. If she was able. If she could. As he had not forgotten how unwell she'd been feeling. He breathed into the kiss, moving her a little so that she was on top of him, granting her the unspoken offer to stop if she wished. If she needed to. His hand continued to move on her stomach, slowly hiking her shirt up as his lips continued to work against hers, drinking in her bellicious taste.
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Post by Bellamy Blake on Sept 3, 2016 4:18:20 GMT
whatever THE HELL WE WANT Isaiah both questioned and stated Bellamy's identity, as Bellamy had no introduced himself. He figured people knew of him, due to his close relationship with Dante. A father fo heart. "Is that a problem?" He asked him with a bit of a smirk, more with teasing than offense. "I'm heading this investigation, which I'm sure you've already heard the basics about." Bellamy had not directly given Isaiah the information, but he figured the farmer knew about it. Besides, this wasn't the first occurrence. And on top of that, Muont Weather was small enough that things like this got around in no time.
When Isaiah confirmed that this area was alright, Bellamy gave a short nod. "I won't take up too much of your time," he assured him, knowing that the farmers were busy. "Just have some questions that I need to ask. Protocol." Which he couldn't dismiss. It was only right that he ask every farmer the same series of questions, so that suspicion wasn't wrongly placed on any single person. "I have the details of your job here, but I'd like to hear from you what your responsibilities are." He could solely go by Isaiah's records, or allow him to explain it. Bellamy found it was always beneficial to take advantage of both perspectives.
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Post by Bellamy Blake on Sept 3, 2016 4:06:31 GMT
whatever THE HELL WE WANT He missed her bright, beautiful smile so damn much. Seeing it now, only reminded him of just that: how beautiful it was. How it made his heart warm. Her presence had the power to do that. Each kiss, each touch, only reinforced that. When she answered that things had been uneventful . . . truth be told, he was relieved to hear that. Uneventful meant that everything was alright. Calm. Kane hadn't updated him with anything, but he also knew that it could have been in effort to protect him. Fortunately, that did not seem to be the case, for he knew Roma wouldn't lie about something like that.
Picking up his pack, he draped an arm around her as they started to make their way inside. He would have to brief Kane, returned some of the weapons, and then he would be able to just spend some time with her. But at the moment, he wasn't prepared to leave her company. He listened to her explain how Wick had electrocuted himself, something that would have arose more concern had Roma not told it the way she did. He was fully aware of the tension between the two of them . . . and for the most part, it was harmless. You didn't have anything to do with that did you?" He asked playfully, meant more to tease than to accuse.
Taking in her next question, he could at least answer with honesty, not having to leave out integral details. "It was, productive," he truthfully responded. "Shockingly civil." Something else they were not used to when it came to Grounders, especially Azgeda. "But things seem to be going in the right direction. They don't want war with us. That's something." He never wanted to worry or concern Roma with these things, but nor did he coddle her or anyone else with the truth. "It's good to be home," he finished, leaning toward her to place a kiss on her temple before continuing to walk forward, his arm falling from having been around her and instead, took her hand in his own.
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Post by Bellamy Blake on Sept 3, 2016 3:52:19 GMT
Tag: @jasper420 whatever THE HELL WE WANT Bellamy could tell that either Jasper didn't do this often or not at all. He was a bit tentative . . . but with each passing moment, he grew a little more confident. It was also why he had wanted to vocalize his enjoyment; to further encourage Jasper should he feel remotely hesitant or uncertain as to what he was doing. Bellamy's hands continued to rest in Jasper's hair, moving with his head rather than trying to control his pacing. The kept his hips firmly against the bed, forcing himself not to thrust, not wanting to catch him off guard or force any surprises onto him.
The vibration his sounds made cause another groan of sheer enjoyment from Bellamy's, slightly jerking his hips in response. Bellamy's head sunk sunk against the pillow when Jasper gripped his ass. The thought of his cock going inside of him was so damn tempting. He had to use whatever self control he had not to suggest it. Not to vocalize the thought. But it was indeed a rather pleasurable one to think of.
The older male swallowed, another groan falling from his lips. "I'm close," he breathed, his voice slightly deeper than his natural tone. It was only fair to give some sort of warning. "If you don't wanna swallow, then you should probably stop." And withdraw. The feeling of Jasper's tongue moving along him was too good, so Bellamy hoped he didn't. But at the same time, wanted to give him the option. "So good," he repeated, wishing to express it to Jasper. His fingers slightly tightened in his hair, gripping him, as he felt like he was going to come any second now.
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Post by Bellamy Blake on Sept 3, 2016 3:31:56 GMT
Tag: @severitysoftly whatever THE HELL WE WANT Bellamy listened, but was unconvinced. There was still a risk, something that Jackson hadn't disputed. More than likely, he would just be sick. But anything could happen. Anything was possible. And the risk was too much for Bellamy's own liking. He then further stated that he was the only match . . . questioning whether they would agree to peace if they let her down. That, was what triggered Bellamy's past bias with Grounders. The lack of gratitude the group of people constantly displayed. They had given in to the grounders with all their demands, with nothing in return. No army. No resources. Only what, the 'right' for them to live? Bellamy was tired of it. And he had lost too much from it.
"When does it end?" He asked in a quiet voice, ensuring to keep his volume low so that they would not be overheard. "We've given in to their demands too many times." And they suffered the consequences. Every single time. "We've lost too much." Because of it. Because of them. Bellamy's voice went lower still, hardly above a whisper heard only due to their close proximity. "I've lost too much," he added on. So many deaths. The initial 100 sent down. Gena. In a way, his own sister who become more violent due to their influence. Bellamy looked at Jackson with soft intent, hoping he saw the plea under his gaze. "I can't lose you too." Not because of this. Not because of them. Not in any possible way.
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Post by Bellamy Blake on Sept 3, 2016 2:11:12 GMT
whatever THE HELL WE WANT Things were a bit chaotic at Camp Jaha. Lincoln had been found, as a Reaper. And the transformation back to his former self had been, draining. Physically and emotionally. Bellamy had to admit that he was relieved the male was still alive. He hated to see his sister so upset over the death of the man she loved, and now, they didn't need to worry about that anymore. What they did need to worry about, was the fact that the Grounders had struck a deal that involved handing Finn over. While Bellamy didn't condone the man's actions, shooting the village, the trauma of the violence had taken a toll on everyone in their own way. They had all done things. Bellamy couldn't condemn Finn without condemning so many others.
On top of this however, was the return of who was now their former Chancellor. Chancellor Jaha. Bellamy had hardly interacted with him in the past, though they did have a significant one. Bellamy had shot him to get on the dropship, and Jaha had later pardoned him for the crime in exchange for Shumway's name. Apparently, Jaha was locked up now. Bellamy felt the need to talk to him, having heard that he spoke of everyone fleeing. Bellamy never agreed with running away. He had been against it when the battle with the Grounders had been approaching, and he was against it now, not wanting to leave their people in Mount Weather. But, he was intrigued. Intrigued to know what was out there. What Jaha had seen.
If there was anywhere safe that Finn could do. He may be separated from them, but at least he would be alive. And it was only until things calmed down. People within Camp Jaha were turning against him, and Bellamy wanted to know all of his options. Making his way to where Jaha was being held, Bellamy snuck his way inside, having kept track of shift changes so that no one would see him. He doubted Abby would approve of this. Once stepping inside, he looked at the man. This was the first time he was truly face to face with the first person he believed he'd killed. Murdered. There was an unsettling feeling deep within the pit of Bellamy's stomach. But his demeanour was stoic, as always. "Sir," he began. Even though Jaha was no longer Chancellor, didn't mean that Bellamy had to be blatantly disrespectful.
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Post by Bellamy Blake on Sept 2, 2016 4:54:24 GMT
whatever THE HELL WE WANT Mount Weather overall was a fairly relaxed place for the citizens of it. So when a crime occurred, the guard was quick to react. This time, it had involved theft. While it wasn't an overly frequent occurrence, it did of course happen. They had to ration what they had to make sure everyone received equal amounts, and at least a minimum. In areas like farming, it was more tempting to take what people thought could not be tracked. The temptation was there, the opportunity . . . and those who were desperate enough, did it. Or maybe it was just plain stupidity since no one in Mount Weather went hungry.
As one of the heads of the guard, Bellamy was tasked with the interviews of farmers, to see if they could discover who the culprit was. It was extremely likely that it was an inside job. But Bellamy didn't wish to accuse anyone in particular. Not until he talked to them all. Having released their recent farmer, Bellamy left the room and entered one where Isiaih Riggs awaited. Bellamy's interactions with the male were practically non existent. He had never met him before, but he had his records.
He had looked into everyones background before commencing the interviews to get a better idea of who they were. "Isaiah Riggs," Bellamy greeted with a bit of a nod. "Do you want to talk here or find somewhere to sit down?" He offered, not wanting to make the other male uncomfortable in terms of positioning. Some may think that discomfort would make the guilty person more likely to tell . . . but truth be told, Bellamy wasn't about to purposely make someone uncomfortable. Dante had taught him better than that.
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Post by Bellamy Blake on Sept 2, 2016 4:42:55 GMT
Tag: @dylhan whatever THE HELL WE WANT Arkadia was certainly shaping up. What had started off as a camp, was now developing into a small city of sorts. They were working to build a sustainable lifestyle for the people. The ceasefire finally permitting everyone the chance to just . . . breathe. To not have to turn their heads every second to see if there was a danger lurking about. Most of those who had been physically injured had healed. It as the emotional and psychological wounds that would remain. Bellamy of course was no exception to this, and coping -- enduring -- had been all the more difficult with Clarke's departure. Her abandonment.
But he could only move forward. Putting his feelings aside for the betterment of his people. Being in the guard, granting him the ability to do so -- not that he would have stopped even if this title wasn't granted to him. He had just finished a patrol, having returned the weapons to the inventory and briefing Kane on the uneventful journey outside the gate. As he walked out of the Ark and into the courtyard, he noticed one of the young Arkers, kicking around a ball. But he was no stranger to Bellamy. Bellamy had been there too late to save his parents.
They were both now dead, leaving the boy orphaned. So many children had lost their parents, and Bellamy's heart went out to each and every one of them. Having been present at the time though, caused him and Dyhan to bond, allowing Bellamy to be particularly fond of the boy. He made his way over to the young Arker, a small smile forming on his lips. "Mind if I join you?" He asked him. He regarded the boy as practically a little brother, wishing he could do more for him than he did. But always found himself checking on him at least once a day. Spending time with him. Just . . . being there for him, in whatever way possible.
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Post by Bellamy Blake on Sept 2, 2016 4:25:38 GMT
whatever THE HELL WE WANT It hadn't been long since the Mount Weather Massacre. Things were falling into a routine now that people were swiftly recovering from their injuries. Physically at least. The emotional and psychological wounds would take far more to heal. Time may not even be adequate. And Bellamy was no exception to this. He was bathing in the blood of over 600 people. Innocent men, women, and children. Images that would haunt him for the rest of his life. But alas, he had to swallow it, set it aside, and focus on the tasks of each day. Focus on his people who remained. It was easier during the day where he could find numerous distractions. He had been given more responsibility among the Arkers, no longer seen as a risk but rather, an asset. He had done everything he could to bring his people home, yet his failures were not far from his mind.
All he could do was move forward; take it one day at a time. Night was the worst, but fortunately, the day was still upon him. Which was why he was currently out in the woods, scouting, hunting if anything came into view. Really, it was for the clearing of his head. To get away from camp, even if only for a couple of hours. It was a strange juxtaposition: he needed the distraction of his people but also needed the space. Perhaps that was why Clarke had left. Yet he didn't excuse it as a reason either. The resentment he felt over her departure was yet another element of pain and burden on what was left of his soul. With his gun strapped to his shoulder, he mindlessly wandered, still paying attention to his surroundings, fully on guard . . . but at the same time, lost within himself.
It was a rustling of leaves that caused him to pause. Something was nearing him. He immediately pulled the gun and aimed it behind him to where the sound was. He didn't see the source. Something compelled him to find it though, and before he knew it, his feet were cautiously moving in the direction of the sound. Another rustle, another flicker of something out there. He neared the distance, creeping closer, and finally jumped out into view where he saw it. No. He saw her. His gun was aimed at her, and if there were others nearby, he didn't see them. His gaze was completely fixated on the woman that he blamed for so much. "Son of a bitch," he blunted breathed out in a low voice. How easy it would be to shoot her, and maybe it wasn't easy at all. What he did know, was the surprise of seeing her was what prevented him from making any attempt at her, and instead just stood there, staring.
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