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BELLAMY BLAKE |
PLANS
SUMMARY OF KNOWN DETAILS TIMELINE OF EVENTS
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| ( codes by whambam ) |
Entry tags:
( following this )
Clarke leaves, and Bellamy can feel his anger sweeping away the panic and fear of four heads on the countertop. He is angry at so many things at once, and without Clarke in front of him, he can't focus on anything else but that feeling. It's his default, the source of so much of his strength, because if he's angry enough, he can keep going forward.
He has so few outlets. He could try to move the boxes, before Clarke comes back, but he knows he can't do it alone, and that fuels the ire even harder. It cripples him in uncomfortable ways.
He turns around and kicks over one of the kitchen chairs without hesitation, snapping the leg off as it skids across the floor. His breath comes in hard, the broken chair only a temporary reprieve, tempting him to just kick it again - and he does, launching it hard into the wall where a second leg breaks off.
There's no one to hurt and no one to attack. Bellamy's always had a target, but now the Cult of the Fox just taunts them from afar. He knows the heads are a warning, and maybe a better person would take the danger the boxes represent and back off. But he can't. He doesn't have it in him, not when he thinks about Cian or Edan's eyes staring up at him and knowing he's sent two more people to their deaths. To run and hide is to allow their deaths to mean nothing. To run and hide is against so much of everything Bellamy Blake is and has become.
He storms out of the kitchen, fists balled up tight. Idleness destroys him, and he can't be passive in this. He won't be. The sensation, that temporary victory in kicking over the chair and having the power over it, fills him again, and before he even realizes what he's doing, Bellamy's fist flies up and punches hard at the wall; his knuckles go right through, colliding with the support structures inside. Bones shatter and his skin gets sliced up, but all he can do is stare at the hole his fist has gone through and know this is his doing.
When he finally pulls it out, it's shaking from anger, and probably pain he doesn't feel yet, too swept up in the reckless adrenaline of his fury. His hand is a mangled mess that isn't helpful given the current situation, but knowing what he's capable of mutes that fear. The evidence of the hole stares back at him.
It doesn't make him feel better. But it reminds him of how much his anger is a tool, of how much his anger can do for him. It can help him now in the face of the Cult, and he won't let it flicker out.
( and then this )
Clarke leaves, and Bellamy can feel his anger sweeping away the panic and fear of four heads on the countertop. He is angry at so many things at once, and without Clarke in front of him, he can't focus on anything else but that feeling. It's his default, the source of so much of his strength, because if he's angry enough, he can keep going forward.
He has so few outlets. He could try to move the boxes, before Clarke comes back, but he knows he can't do it alone, and that fuels the ire even harder. It cripples him in uncomfortable ways.
He turns around and kicks over one of the kitchen chairs without hesitation, snapping the leg off as it skids across the floor. His breath comes in hard, the broken chair only a temporary reprieve, tempting him to just kick it again - and he does, launching it hard into the wall where a second leg breaks off.
There's no one to hurt and no one to attack. Bellamy's always had a target, but now the Cult of the Fox just taunts them from afar. He knows the heads are a warning, and maybe a better person would take the danger the boxes represent and back off. But he can't. He doesn't have it in him, not when he thinks about Cian or Edan's eyes staring up at him and knowing he's sent two more people to their deaths. To run and hide is to allow their deaths to mean nothing. To run and hide is against so much of everything Bellamy Blake is and has become.
He storms out of the kitchen, fists balled up tight. Idleness destroys him, and he can't be passive in this. He won't be. The sensation, that temporary victory in kicking over the chair and having the power over it, fills him again, and before he even realizes what he's doing, Bellamy's fist flies up and punches hard at the wall; his knuckles go right through, colliding with the support structures inside. Bones shatter and his skin gets sliced up, but all he can do is stare at the hole his fist has gone through and know this is his doing.
When he finally pulls it out, it's shaking from anger, and probably pain he doesn't feel yet, too swept up in the reckless adrenaline of his fury. His hand is a mangled mess that isn't helpful given the current situation, but knowing what he's capable of mutes that fear. The evidence of the hole stares back at him.
It doesn't make him feel better. But it reminds him of how much his anger is a tool, of how much his anger can do for him. It can help him now in the face of the Cult, and he won't let it flicker out.
( and then this )
Edited 2015-04-07 05:48 (UTC)
[The dog makes a small contented noise with all the affection Clarke shows her, and Bellamy rolls his eyes, as if he's not guilty of spoiling her himself too.]
[But then he looks back up at Clarke, taking in her plan. He doesn't respond right away, but he's not opposed to it. At first thought, he's even thinking it's a good idea, despite what he already knows about the Shuck and its potential dangers - but if they can be prepared for it, all the better.] We should find out what happens first, when people summon him. [A beat.] Unless you've already looked into that? [He would not be surprised.]
[But then he looks back up at Clarke, taking in her plan. He doesn't respond right away, but he's not opposed to it. At first thought, he's even thinking it's a good idea, despite what he already knows about the Shuck and its potential dangers - but if they can be prepared for it, all the better.] We should find out what happens first, when people summon him. [A beat.] Unless you've already looked into that? [He would not be surprised.]
[He's not the most patient of men either, save for the moments where it really truly counts, so he can't say he doesn't understand why it'd be frustrating.]
[He snorts a bit, amused at how long it's taken to get to this point. But he's never really been one for manners.] Bellamy. You?
[He snorts a bit, amused at how long it's taken to get to this point. But he's never really been one for manners.] Bellamy. You?
( her answer comes in the form of a cheeky grin at his question, because please, of course she asked around. )
Some people say that nothing happens at all, that they leave things for him to find and when they come back the next day, it's gone because he's taken it. Others say that calling for him is just asking for death? Which, you know, I think is probably just superstition. ( it's clear Clarke puts no weight in that opinion. )
If your offering is a good one he'll come. But... there are risks. Sometimes he's angry, other times it's his pack that comes and not him. At the same time, you're just as likely to meet him and get his help are you are to meet him and have him turn you away. I don't think there's any real success metric behind it.
Some people say that nothing happens at all, that they leave things for him to find and when they come back the next day, it's gone because he's taken it. Others say that calling for him is just asking for death? Which, you know, I think is probably just superstition. ( it's clear Clarke puts no weight in that opinion. )
If your offering is a good one he'll come. But... there are risks. Sometimes he's angry, other times it's his pack that comes and not him. At the same time, you're just as likely to meet him and get his help are you are to meet him and have him turn you away. I don't think there's any real success metric behind it.
Edited 2015-04-02 06:01 (UTC)
[He shakes his head, lifting his eyebrows in vaguely condescending amusement. But he listens to her anyway, because yeah - of course she's already got the answer.]
So we're winging it. [Honestly, Bellamy works well enough with spontaneity. If they have no idea how the Shuck is going to react, it means he has to think on his feet - and he's gotten very good at that.]
We'll just have to leave him a damn good offering. You thought about that yet too? [A beat.] Something for them.
[He doesn't need to specify who them is - but if this is a deity of death in the Drabwurld, it's not hard to fall in line as to what might be appropriate.]
So we're winging it. [Honestly, Bellamy works well enough with spontaneity. If they have no idea how the Shuck is going to react, it means he has to think on his feet - and he's gotten very good at that.]
We'll just have to leave him a damn good offering. You thought about that yet too? [A beat.] Something for them.
[He doesn't need to specify who them is - but if this is a deity of death in the Drabwurld, it's not hard to fall in line as to what might be appropriate.]
[Bellamy rolls his eyes with another scowl, urging her towards another nearby fire in the same movement, once she finishes with the one they're at. It could stand to be alone for a bit, even with the probable imp inside, but a quick glance shows the other needs some attention.]
[Dryly:] Some of them prefer acquiring land mass.
[Translation: Clarke I swear to god.]
[Dryly:] Some of them prefer acquiring land mass.
[Translation: Clarke I swear to god.]
Edited 2015-04-02 23:33 (UTC)
We're winging it unless your inner mythology expert knows anything else about him that could give us a better idea of what we're facing.
( which, she figures, he doesn't; so she'll press on instead.
the offering had been something she had started to think about, but she hadn't really solidified anything yet. mostly vague ideas they might be able to turn into something more. )
I thought we could piece together things representing all four of them. And maybe something that we can put our blood magic into? It's also standard to leave food; meat, specifically.
( which, she figures, he doesn't; so she'll press on instead.
the offering had been something she had started to think about, but she hadn't really solidified anything yet. mostly vague ideas they might be able to turn into something more. )
I thought we could piece together things representing all four of them. And maybe something that we can put our blood magic into? It's also standard to leave food; meat, specifically.
( there might be a snort of laughter muffled into her cup of hot chocolate, still piping hot in her hand.
while Bellamy works on the fire, she actually hurries over to where a resident of the Spire is finding their feet begin to freeze to the sidewalk. cup in hand, she crouches down to pour the drink to melt the growing ice. )
You should get inside, okay? Stay warm! The Baroness will have spare supplies in the Spire if you need them.
( tossing the cup in the nearby trash bin, Clarke returns to Bellamy, starting to help him with the next round of fires. )
Land mass won't be any good if there's no one to inherit it.
( there is no way she is dropping it that easily. )
while Bellamy works on the fire, she actually hurries over to where a resident of the Spire is finding their feet begin to freeze to the sidewalk. cup in hand, she crouches down to pour the drink to melt the growing ice. )
You should get inside, okay? Stay warm! The Baroness will have spare supplies in the Spire if you need them.
( tossing the cup in the nearby trash bin, Clarke returns to Bellamy, starting to help him with the next round of fires. )
Land mass won't be any good if there's no one to inherit it.
( there is no way she is dropping it that easily. )
[He shakes his head as she walks off, using his knife to spark the flames higher. He holds out his hand next, trying to practice a little what he's been learning with the Magic Guild; it's not better than his knife, but it shoots off more flames, and the fire grows warmer.]
[He glances up when Clarke uses her hot chocolate to melt, snorting a little in his own amusement. But hey, it worked, so he's not going to judge.]
You do know heirs can be declared and not born, right? [Bellamy pauses for a moment, then holds out his cup, silently offering her a sip.]
[He glances up when Clarke uses her hot chocolate to melt, snorting a little in his own amusement. But hey, it worked, so he's not going to judge.]
You do know heirs can be declared and not born, right? [Bellamy pauses for a moment, then holds out his cup, silently offering her a sip.]
( with the cup offered, she's actually- surprised. but takes it, sipping carefully at the hot drink before returning it to him.
a dangerous thing you've started, Bellamy. )
Sure, but you've now been offered one. Who else would you leave things here to?
a dangerous thing you've started, Bellamy. )
Sure, but you've now been offered one. Who else would you leave things here to?
[He takes it back quickly, with an air of annoyance, though it's less at the drink and more at her inability to let a joke die.]
Not like we have much to leave. [Wait no. No 'we' in this context.] What if I just decided to leave it all to you?
[There. Clearly she won't notice the first part now! Don't mind him as he ignores her face entirely and strokes the fire again too.]
Not like we have much to leave. [Wait no. No 'we' in this context.] What if I just decided to leave it all to you?
[There. Clearly she won't notice the first part now! Don't mind him as he ignores her face entirely and strokes the fire again too.]
( she catches the we but doesn't comment on it; she would have done the same thing, had the conversation been reversed. because even with the house that Ariadne gave her, it isn't like it feels like it belongs to just her.
expression softening, she finally lets it go, even if it was fun to annoy him. instead, she moves to a fire near his that's dimming, using the same magic from the Guild she had learned to strengthen it back up again. )
That wouldn't work, I'd be gone, too.
( and she says it so matter-of-fact-ly, as though there's no room for debate or argument. as though one can't be there without the other, and there's no real thinking otherwise, at least not for Clarke. )
expression softening, she finally lets it go, even if it was fun to annoy him. instead, she moves to a fire near his that's dimming, using the same magic from the Guild she had learned to strengthen it back up again. )
That wouldn't work, I'd be gone, too.
( and she says it so matter-of-fact-ly, as though there's no room for debate or argument. as though one can't be there without the other, and there's no real thinking otherwise, at least not for Clarke. )
Most of the stories involve staying away from the Shuck, not trying to get his attention. [So, yeah. Definitely winging it. At least making offerings is a concept he's familiar with.]
[Bellamy looks down and mindlessly scribbles, mulling over the suggestion and nodding along in agreement to the plan so far.] Meat's easy enough. [A beat.] Coins, for Cian. They can fit in most anything.
[Bellamy looks down and mindlessly scribbles, mulling over the suggestion and nodding along in agreement to the plan so far.] Meat's easy enough. [A beat.] Coins, for Cian. They can fit in most anything.
( she shrugs off the part about staying away from the Shuck because, of course, she's not about to listen to that piece of advice. )
Elaena had a set of symbols written all over her house. I could write one down for her. ( which- left Nuala. Clarke can barely face her people after what happened, even months later, so she can't really ask them. but she did meet her- ) Something from the La Llorona forest for Nuala.
Elaena had a set of symbols written all over her house. I could write one down for her. ( which- left Nuala. Clarke can barely face her people after what happened, even months later, so she can't really ask them. but she did meet her- ) Something from the La Llorona forest for Nuala.
[He watches her out of the corner of his eyes, mindlessly poking the fire. Bellamy thinks about arguing, but he's spared retort by the sight of an imp's hand peeking out of the ice.]
[He turns to that, heating up the blade of his knife again to cut through the ice and speed up the melting process. The imp's head comes free along with its hands, and between the two of them, it escapes the ice. In repayment, it uses its magic to boost most of the fires around them.]
Someone's gotta be willing. [Finally, he says something, though it's weak and halfhearted, because as much as he knows he and Clarke are a team at this point, acknowledging it out loud like this is still taking an adjustment.]
[He turns to that, heating up the blade of his knife again to cut through the ice and speed up the melting process. The imp's head comes free along with its hands, and between the two of them, it escapes the ice. In repayment, it uses its magic to boost most of the fires around them.]
Someone's gotta be willing. [Finally, he says something, though it's weak and halfhearted, because as much as he knows he and Clarke are a team at this point, acknowledging it out loud like this is still taking an adjustment.]
[His expression softens when Nuala comes up, knowing this is the one that always hits Clarke hardest.] Some kinda plant? We could weave everything all together with vines or flowers.
[He thinks on the brief conversation he had with Edan, where the most prominent moment was simply them promising to kill each other if necessary. And he knows what to offer.] Edan gets a knife.
[He thinks on the brief conversation he had with Edan, where the most prominent moment was simply them promising to kill each other if necessary. And he knows what to offer.] Edan gets a knife.
( Clarke finally stands up, dusting some snow from her pants and jacket as she does. turning to face Bellamy where she watches the imp break free of its prison, calling a thank you! after it when she realizes the help it provided to their fires. )
You saying that is going to loop us right back around to the heir conversation.
( there's a hint of a smirk tugging at the corner of her lips, but she otherwise doesn't continue on that. instead, she jogs over to where a resident looks freshly melted, shrugging off one of her many layered jackets to drape it over his shoulders, pointing out the spire and giving the same directions she had before. )
I'm going to grab more supplies from Ariadne's place. Meet you the next block over?
You saying that is going to loop us right back around to the heir conversation.
( there's a hint of a smirk tugging at the corner of her lips, but she otherwise doesn't continue on that. instead, she jogs over to where a resident looks freshly melted, shrugging off one of her many layered jackets to drape it over his shoulders, pointing out the spire and giving the same directions she had before. )
I'm going to grab more supplies from Ariadne's place. Meet you the next block over?
( the idea of plants and flowers stirs a memory, and it takes Clarke a moment to try and fully recall it. some lines from a poem during another of the world wars- ah. )
Poppies. We should see if La Llorona has poppies, there was a poem about them with fallen soldiers during one of the world wars. The first, I think? In Flanders fields, where poppies blow, between the crosses, row on row.
Poppies. We should see if La Llorona has poppies, there was a poem about them with fallen soldiers during one of the world wars. The first, I think? In Flanders fields, where poppies blow, between the crosses, row on row.
The first. [It's a quick, easy reply, one he barely even thinks about. He looks up at her, quietly.] The poem's how poppies got associated with the remembrance of fallen soldiers.
[And all four of them are fallen soldiers, as far as Bellamy's concerned, that much comes out silently too.]
[And all four of them are fallen soldiers, as far as Bellamy's concerned, that much comes out silently too.]
[He's about to retort with something poorly thought out, but she spares him fanning the heir flames to help with more of the actual flames. Bellamy prods again at the fire, trying to use his magic to jump-start it even higher. Maybe as a test in both helping and seeing how much he's capable of pushing it. While she wraps up the recently thawed resident, he jerks back to avoid a few runaway sparks.]
Keep yourself melted. Maybe carry around an extra cup of hot chocolate. [He looks both amused and impressed, though his tone is largely the former, and his agreement is sewn into the words.]
Keep yourself melted. Maybe carry around an extra cup of hot chocolate. [He looks both amused and impressed, though his tone is largely the former, and his agreement is sewn into the words.]
I can probably ask one of the kids at the spire how to weave poppies into a crown and we can imbue that with our magic, then have everything else woven into it.
( which seems like a decent enough offering, if they want to talk to the Shuck about them as well as the Cult. )
Unless you have a different idea?
( which seems like a decent enough offering, if they want to talk to the Shuck about them as well as the Cult. )
Unless you have a different idea?
No. That works. Crowns are symbols of authority. [A beat.] Maybe it'll help appease the Shuck too.
[It seems like a good combination - flowers for the dead, to the god of them in this world. If there's anyone's authority Bellamy can respect, it's Death's.] We'll just wait till the end of the month, fresh flowers and all that.
[It seems like a good combination - flowers for the dead, to the god of them in this world. If there's anyone's authority Bellamy can respect, it's Death's.] We'll just wait till the end of the month, fresh flowers and all that.
[They're about halfway through construction and creation of the clinic at Srathmarbh, and Bellamy drags Clarke away from her work to make sure she gets food in her stomach. No point in building a health clinic when you ignore your own.]
[Even with the amount of shops and restaurants and taverns in the Drabwurld, it's still jarring to eat out and to have a choice in what to eat for dinner. He went from rations to plants and wild animals - the latter of which is still their primary diet, because he can't bring himself to stop hunting.]
[But the tavern is quaint, relatively quiet, with only a light haze at an early drinking hour. He sits across from Clarke and orders some sort of meat stew anyway, but it's the drinks that get delivered first.]
[He takes a sip and gestures at her with his mug.] You're not going back to work after this either. [So there!!]
[Even with the amount of shops and restaurants and taverns in the Drabwurld, it's still jarring to eat out and to have a choice in what to eat for dinner. He went from rations to plants and wild animals - the latter of which is still their primary diet, because he can't bring himself to stop hunting.]
[But the tavern is quaint, relatively quiet, with only a light haze at an early drinking hour. He sits across from Clarke and orders some sort of meat stew anyway, but it's the drinks that get delivered first.]
[He takes a sip and gestures at her with his mug.] You're not going back to work after this either. [So there!!]
( she's quick to order the same thing as him, too tired to actually scan through a menu or listen to what any of what is suggested. it's her final month of teaching and helping with getting clinics up and running, her second to last clinic to work on, and she's beyond exhausted; it's been easy to run herself ragged after what happened in July.
but it's nice to get away from the clinic, to just go out and spend time with Bellamy, to not think about the Cult or the clinics or anything but having some time with him. so when the drinks come, she reaches for it, taking a long pull from the cup before setting it back down on the table. )
Probably for the best, I think everyone there is ready to make me sleep on one of the beds in there.
but it's nice to get away from the clinic, to just go out and spend time with Bellamy, to not think about the Cult or the clinics or anything but having some time with him. so when the drinks come, she reaches for it, taking a long pull from the cup before setting it back down on the table. )
Probably for the best, I think everyone there is ready to make me sleep on one of the beds in there.
[He's glad she's agreeing easily enough, despite being fully prepared to drag her back to their room like he dragged her from the clinic in the first place.]
[There's a tingle in his throat, and he coughs. Once, twice, three times. He takes another sip of his drink to offset it, then he chuckles at her.] Not particularly interested in sleeping there myself.
[Because where Clarke goes, he goes, right? It's so standard it doesn't even feel awkward to talk about it anymore.]
[He starts coughing again, harder this time, and he covers his mouth with his hand. But it doesn't stop, growing more and more incessant until he spits up blood all over his hand. Bellamy still feels like he's going to gag, like there's more where that came from, but he stares at his hand in shock, his voice scratchy.] What the fuck - [His throat clogs again, and he hacks up more blood, knocking over his mug in the process.]
[There's a tingle in his throat, and he coughs. Once, twice, three times. He takes another sip of his drink to offset it, then he chuckles at her.] Not particularly interested in sleeping there myself.
[Because where Clarke goes, he goes, right? It's so standard it doesn't even feel awkward to talk about it anymore.]
[He starts coughing again, harder this time, and he covers his mouth with his hand. But it doesn't stop, growing more and more incessant until he spits up blood all over his hand. Bellamy still feels like he's going to gag, like there's more where that came from, but he stares at his hand in shock, his voice scratchy.] What the fuck - [His throat clogs again, and he hacks up more blood, knocking over his mug in the process.]
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