BELLAMY BLAKE
COURT Unseelie
TITLE Speaker of Darkness (✮✮) The Bloodied Hand (✮✮✮)
OCCUPATION Soldier.
ABLE TO FAST-TRAVEL Yes.
RESIDENCE IN 2,701 Spire 3.
RESIDENCE IN 2,702 Spire 3.
MAJOR EVENTS
HIGHLIGHT
Fox Cult Investigation Quest [ ✖ ]
HIGHLIGHT
Description [ ✖ ]
HIGHLIGHT
Description [ ✖ ]
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PLANS
Sneaking onto the Seelie side, investigating the Cult of the Fox, attending far more parties/festivals than he ever has before in his entire life. Bringing anarcho-communism to the drabwurld. (cr plans)
SUMMARY OF KNOWN DETAILS
✪ Sword training and combat training (PARKOUR) with Jason
✪ Magic training with the Magic Guild
✪ Working as a letter runner, including over Seelie lines.
✪ After gaining fast travel + shard concealment, making several trips over to the Seelie side, both to look for his people and to spy for Morla. Making Seelie contacts.
✪ Investigating the Cult of the Fox and becoming a target of the cult.
✪ From July onward: avoiding assassination attempts by the Cult of the Fox.
✪ Attending various holidays: Beltane, Samhain, Yule, etc.
✪ Working on Saber's R&D tech team, as a field tester/security.
✪ Looks into the Midnight Court.
TIMELINE OF EVENTS
| SPRING IN 2,701 (Mar, Apr, May) |
- MARCH - Takes advantage of the Monarch Audience and gains a means of shard concealment (thanks to Clarke saving Unseelie shards in battle, both their shards are concealed full time). He and Clarke take on a quest from Waver. When the snow rolls in, he does his best to help unfreeze things.
- APRIL - Bellamy continues sword and magic training and decides he really hates harps.
- MAY - Starts off the month with Beltane. He takes his first trip into Seelie territory later, checking out Caer Glaem and the area around it. Starts looking into the Cult of the Fox via Seelies. Kills some swans because fuck swans.
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| SUMMER IN 2,701 (Jun, Jul, Aug) |
- JUNE - Attends the tourney in Treun! Makes a second trip into seelie territory, this time centering on the Cothromach. Befriends some people with connections to the Cult of the Fox, begins the process of sending them undercover.
- JULY - Third tip into Glaschu, where following the Cult of the Fox leads him to Daonna just in time to witness the hangings. When he returns to the third spire, he and Clarke get a decapitated surprise and become a targets of the Cult of the Fox.
- AUGUST - Let's avoid sneaking around this month, ok? Ok! Works on more magic training, attends some festivals, and follows Clarke to the 8th and 9th Spires to help set up the spire clinics.
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| FALL IN 2,701 (Sept, Oct, Nov) |
- SEPTEMBER - Fourth trip into Glaschu, Parrais. Wreath Festival! Starts learning Blood Magic from Clarke and they adopt a dog (which he names Rhea Silvia).
- OCTOBER - Bellamy goes to Redgate midmonth, attends the opening of its theatre. Samhain: Bellamy and Clarke make offerings to the Black Shuck, and he manages to actually Dance and Have fun during the following festivities.
- NOVEMBER - As a former delinquent, the prison break is of course Very Scary. Continues with magic and combat training.
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| WINTER IN 2,701/2,702 (Dec, Jan, Feb) |
- DECEMBER - Yule! the Hare Hunt!
- JANUARY - Stuff and things!!! Another trip into Glaschu, checking on Caer Glaem before hitting up the Cothromach again.
- FEBRUARY - Ostara Festival in Parrais. Visits the art gallery with Clarke. At the end of the month, falls asleep and canon updates, gaining memories of infiltrating Mount Weather and joining up with Maya inside.
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| SPRING IN 2,702 (Mar, Apr) |
- MARCH - Nearly gets killed in Parrais by the Cult via broken balcony. Zombies must die aka takes out some of the undead.
- APRIL - Agrees to be bait for the Cult of the Fox in hopes of luring in members to capture for the Red Hand.
- MAY - ¿ we just don't know ?
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no subject
april
(march &) april | researching reynard/the cult of the fox with clarke
( harp event )
word count: 1155
Bellamy tries not to remember most of his dreams, because a sufficient portion of them are nightmares, or at least, they turn into nightmares more often than not. He knows how to get through the next day even when they keep him up longer than he likes. Alongside the bodies, he starts to hear music. Soft, far off, just as haunting as his ghosts, and it hammers down against the guilt in his chest, which in turn just makes him angry, because his anger has always been a good tool against the unknown.
What’s weird is how angry he keeps finding himself outside that – not just one day, but the next and the next, even at night when he yanks up the blankets like he wants to rip them in half. He’s always simmering with anger, but this prick of it has him irritated at every little thing, even when he’s not exhausted. A man bumps into him in the streets at the Third Spire, and he mouths off, fighting back the urge to shove him back, hard. It wasn’t even on purpose, but Bellamy glares and it genuinely scares the man. It’s only the distant sound of some sort of chimed music that holds him back, distracted by the familiarity of it. He scowls off the confrontation and practically stomps all the way back home, grabbing his crossbow for practice and his axe to go hunting.
The woods are quiet, or at least, they’re supposed to be. He pauses, crossbow aimed at a deer when he hears the harp again. And staring at this animal at the mercy of his weapon stirs of memories of everything else he’s ever done at the other end of a blade. He fires the arrow in the midst of them, his aim off, and it pierces the deer’s back leg instead of the chest.
He’s hit with a feeling of just – killing. Of being so angry that he takes someone else’s life. He thinks about the desire to kill Murphy after he found him again, his hands wrapped around the other man’s throat, because how fucking dare he waste their gunpowder. Bellamy can feel the rope around his neck as Murphy tried to hang him and feel that rage crawling up his skin now, in the woods, and the next thing he knows, he’s just sliced open the deer’s neck, far more deeply than necessary. He steps back, his hands shaking as that anger still races through him, and the temptation to hack up the deer is a strong one, only blocked by the need for its meat to eat, his inner survivalist winning out this time.
His dreams that night are full of headless deer, except when there are only antlered heads, talking ones that whisper the names of the dead in his ear and churn up his guilt like a hurricane.
The harp echoes at the same time as Murderer, murderer, murderer.
Charlotte laughs and then she dies, her hands dripping with Wells’s blood as she begs Bellamy to save her. He stands at the cliff and hears the splash, the harp mixing with the water, like the waves are lapping at it.
He wakes up in a cold sweat and spends the day irritable again. After working on some of his fire magic, and nearly burning his eyebrows off in a huff, he hits up a tavern and gets into a fight over some stupid disagreement he can’t even recall, barely fifteen minutes after his first drink meant to be relaxing. On the walk home with a busted lip, he hears the harp again, and his stomach drops with guilt instead of anger. He shouldn’t have punched that guy, he shouldn’t have been so angry. What if he killed him, killed someone else?
The music plays as he slips inside his house, and his chest feels heavy with the notion that he will never be a good person.
By the time he falls asleep again, he’s face to face with more ghosts, only this time in front of them, leading them like an army, is Octavia.
“You left me again,” she hisses at him with an arrow sticking out of her leg and blood on her face like war paint. “Fucked off into the woods and now you’re a world away. Do you even want me around? How’re you supposed to do anything for me anymore?”
The Arkers behind her swallow her up, and he hears the harp once more, like it’s still surrounded by water. Does he have to jump, like Charlotte did, to atone for all his crimes?
He follows the sound, the hands of those culled from the Ark dragging at his legs and piling more and more guilt on him, so much that Bellamy’s almost overcome and forced to crawl before it crushes him. He pulls himself from them, his voice weak as he mutters useless apologies over and over.
But the harp needs to stop. He can’t take it anymore. It’s been plaguing him for days, and every time it plays it’s like he loses part of himself to it.
He finds it at last, after long venture through bushes and trees, his hands scraped up and bleeding from the forest. He sits up on his knees and stares at the harp, sitting in the middle of the river – the same one he’d thrown the radio in, condemning over three hundred people to die.
One of the chords hits him hard enough that the guilt shifts into anger again, and his anger he can use. Bellamy hauls himself to his feet with it and splashes through the shallow water, each note striking hard and reminding him of how much he hated everyone on the Ark. Maybe they all deserved to be Culled. Nobody stopped the Council from locking up his sister and floating his mother. He thinks about Kane arresting him, acting like he knew better and ignoring the authority Bellamy had earned for himself, and he’s never felt more angry in this life, even if it is only a dream.
He reaches the harp and glares at it. The water laps at his feet and he can hear Octavia in his head, telling him softly: may we meet again.
Bellamy lunges, grabbing the harp with both hands and hauling it up in the air. Channeling all the rage the instrument fueled in him already, he lifts it high before smashing it down hard with an anguished cry. It shatters in the water at his feet, the pieces swept away as the river rushes on.
There’s silence, for a few moments, before he surges awake.
He blinks out into the room and feels his fire flicker, his ire dimming out. It’s the easiest and most level headed he’s woken up in days, so much so that when sleep comes again a few minutes later, it’s welcome and it’s a relief.