epidemiology | ( CLOSED ) STARSHIPS WERE MEANT TO FLY

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( CLOSED ) STARSHIPS WERE MEANT TO FLY

CHARACTERS: Bellamy Reyes and Raven Blake.
DATE: A day or so after the jailbreak.
WARNINGS: Dissing Clarke.
SUMMARY: Bellamy, Clarke, and Raven go to Agatha's house to Netflix and chill. And Bellamy and Raven decide to go chill outside.

[ it's clarke's idea they go to a house that means nothing to both bellamy and raven. bellamy follows, falling into an old pattern of trusting clarke's judgement when she's recently forgotten to give him a reason to. raven, he thinks, follows for a lack of not knowing where else to go. and once clarke explains this is a house that belonged to a woman who had something to do with the order, the very people that arthur seems to work for and the very reason why many of them had ended up imprisoned, bellamy thinks it to be a good idea to stick around, even if it's a little dangerous. ]

[ an order member may come back, clarke says, and bellamy thinks that's enough of a reason for him to keep his rifle in check and to stay up all night. though they may agree to take shifts in watching the house, in being the lightest sleeper in case there's a rattling of the doorknob, bellamy takes it upon himself to disregard any agreement. he can't sleep, not with mount weather on his heels and his head still spinning from his recruitment process into ALASTAIR. he's also the one with the gun. ]

[ picking up his rifle as quietly as possible, bellamy makes his way toward the front door. the house is quiet and dark, unusual for someone so used to small spaces filled with light or large camp sites submerged in shadow. he can't sit by the window any longer and wait for the sun to rise, knowing he's best put to use when he's patrolling and working the ground. he can figure out different paths that way, any secret bunkers hidden in the side of hills. the network's dead at this time, and there's only so many times he can reread the same public conversations before he's memorising the usernames and the language used. ]

[ opening the front door as quietly as he can, he shuts it with barely a click. with his watch slapped onto his wrist and his rifle over his shoulder, he can almost trick himself into believing he's back at camp jaha. ]

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[ raven hardly has any trust left to offer clarke.

it isn't exactly a secret, either; her unease is evident when they arrive at a house so unlike camp jaha and the tent she's accustomed to, without the usual familiar faces to greet her and distract from her mood. it isn't anger so much as disappointment in discovering that clarke seems to be without appreciation for their own attempts to free her from her imprisonment, that raven had fallen into line and followed bellamy into battle for the sake of a woman that is one of their own but hardly the girl raven remembers. she nearly regrets it, even if she only speaks it in the tense line of her lips, of her frame, in the way her expression is almost soured. she doesn't expect an award, but it smarts somewhat to see a girl she had once named a friend so adamant in avoiding them — or so raven suspects of her, even if she doesn't so much as outright ask if it's clarke's strategy.

it's easier to insist to herself she had only agreed for bellamy, but raven knows it isn't entirely the truth, especially with how she lingers in the house when she would easily be able to walk away. in a way, it offers her more to focus upon than the fatigue in her own bum leg, than the strain of her muscles still sore from the drill that had vibrated throughout her, but she isn't exactly happy toward either of them.

she hardly slumbers. there isn't any respite or relaxation to be found here, prepared to fight if an unfamiliar face so much as enters the room — and so when bellamy lifts himself away from the window, she follows, aware it isn't his turn to guard their new home. it isn't any mistrust, but simple curiosity cloaked by dry amusement when she appears behind him as quietly as she's able to when her leg isn't made for stealth. ] It's not your watch.

[ it's a hell of a lot easier to remain distracted from the tension at hand by stepping back into a role that feels familiar. despite the insecurity bellamy often feels when he's in a leadership role, he isn't letting himself think too much on whether or not this is a good idea. he'd questioned himself too many times inside of the mountain, finding that so many came to swirl around him when clarke had turned her back on him at the gates of camp jaha. when he doesn't think, he's a better leader, and so he shuts that down and follows his gut instead. ]

[ it tells him to expect company, and so he does. neither girl is the type to remain in the house, even if he insists it's for the best, even if he's to emotionally manipulate them into believing he'll feel better if he knows that they're inside. bellamy likes to think they know him a hell of a lot better than that. the only person who could unnerve him and throw him off his game isn't in this shitty place. ]

[ he can hear raven coming before she speaks. his long strides become slower, even though he chooses not to acknowledge her at all. she may be mad at him for not fighting clarke, for insisting they shadow her and never leave her alone, but bellamy knows it's the right thing to do. he'd lost her once, he isn't so content to lose her again. ]

[ without looking at raven, he acknowledges her by taking her comment too literally. it's the only way he can agree that he knows it's not his turn. bellamy looks at his wrist, pursing his lips as he regards his watch. he doesn't look at raven as he drops his arm and continues to walk, albeit with smaller strides than before. ] Looks like mine.

[ she is — angry, but not toward bellamy. she's frustrated by clarke, vexed by herself; she's to blame for listening, for following him for the sake of a girl who seems keen to give her little in return for her efforts. once, she would have presumed her to be a friend, but she's since spied the changes in the personality of their princess — her behaviour toward herself, at least, as though she doesn't quite meet clarke's expectations. she isn't a magician, able to pluck bullets and bombs from air; the pressure placed upon her shoulders has seen raven strive that much more, has assisted her in achieving what she sets her sharp mind to rather than resigning herself as she insists it to be too much, but she has always wanted the others to believe in her. she has her own doubts that clarke does, that she ever will again — but the sentiment is one that raven shares, still remembering how clarke had shoved a knife into finn and taken her family from her.

no one would be able to claim that they aren't comrades, but it's difficult to feel a sense of any companionship when clarke hardly seems to stomach being around them. as much as it annoys her, she supposes she needs her space from the other girl, maybe even bellamy — but that doesn't see her feet halt when she's following him outside, or even lead her to question his leadership abilities. she won't be so eager to volunteer herself to clarke's sake if he's to suggest it again, but she believes he knows she'll still watch his back.

and she does now, even if it seems silent and quiet in a way the camp hadn't been. they had always been on edge, waiting for a battle — and while they still are in a sense, the air is calmer than she has thought it to be.

with an look lacking in amusement, she quips, ] Cute. [ the sarcasm isn't biting, but it isn't hidden. her strides quick to keep pace with him, but once she's at his side, she slows slightly. ] You going to sleep at all? [ she suspects she knows the answer, as it's the same she would offer if the question were turned toward her. ]

[ she'll probably read it as pity, but bellamy slows his pace once she's at his side. he'd wanted to stomp around the forest, to see his feet embed so deeply into the ground that the wind could never wipe it away. in a sense, it's good raven's out here, calming him from being frustrated by their circumstances and clarke's inability to stay out of trouble. she's a distraction, just as he had been for her with what feels like a long time ago, but where he had failed to keep his end of the bargain, she's easily meeting hers. ]

[ although raven can easily spark him into a temper, she's calming, in a way. familiar with her own irritation, a voice that he had once flinched from, she's since become someone he wants to talk to. her head is filled to the brim with brilliant ideas, her voice one that tells him what he needs to know while her words may layer it in a hidden message. raven reyes is the reason why he's alive today, even though she shares the credit with many dead people inside of a mountain. ]

[ she had helped guide him when he needed it most. the blind leading the blind, although one had sounded more confident than the other. despite how he had felt in the mountain, believing he could've stopped that drill from touching her or even the others, bellamy doesn't feel as though he has lead her astray. finding and rescuing clarke is a good thing. it means she's safe. it means she isn't far. and it means they have someone who has been here longer than them who has answers they can trust. bellamy doesn't believe she'd lie to him, not with how she had helped him and raven out of the woods when they'd been without a lantern. ]

[ looking ahead, he shrugs. his rifle remains heavy on his shoulder, the same weight it had been when he'd been picked up from camp jaha and dropped here. he thinks it to be a good enough answer, but for someone who picks, who knows the intricacies of communicators like radios, he suspects it won't feel enough to her. it doesn't for him. a shoulder conveys nothing but his unwillingness to play. and bellamy has no qualms with raven; she's a friend, the only person, aside from clarke, he'd want to trust. only from the corner of his eye does he regard her, ] I already slept. [ for what felt like a minute or two. he knows he had drifted off at the window, perhaps for thirty minutes, maybe even sixty. it's not enough sleep to run on, but bellamy's done worse. ]

[ glancing away from her, he licks his lips before he speaks once more, voice a little louder than before. ] You should be sleeping.

[ truthfully, she expects as much from him — the pity, even if he has never implicitly implied he has any sympathy for her plight. and she would prefer he keep it as such, keep his focus away from his leg and leave her without reminder she's crippled, no longer as useful as she once was. her mind is still as sharp as it's ever been, but even raven knows when she has pressed her limits — and she loathes it, how her limbs smart in their protest when she's pushed herself too far, or the numbness of her leg as it drags along the earth. it isn't so easy to build a brace for this — for the torture she had endured from the drill — when she feels it still ring through her frame, hardly having the time to mend her injuries before being ordered away by alastair and its lackeys.

sleep doesn't come so easily, either; she doubts it ever will when they're accustomed to camp jaha, prepared and even expecting any assault against them. she might only be their mechanic, but raven realises they aren't as protected here, either. they have walls to hide behind rather than the unease a tent offers, but she had adjusted to the tents, to the crackle of fire. without it here, she barely even finds herself relaxed enough to slumber, in spite of what bellamy insists now.

she counters it easily and with a snort, offering him a once-over as she remarks, ] Yeah? So should you. [ her arm extends, sweeping a hand as though to show their surroundings to him. ] But here we are.

[ he opens his mouth to tell her he just told her he's already slept, but he guesses raven would see through the bullshit. there's a select few in the camp who would consistently call him out on his poorly built lies. from o to raven to clarke and maybe even monroe and miller, he can't quite hide behind the impression he wants to build. it's one that leads to him pretending he's not a hypocrite, giving out advice and suggestions that could be bitten out like orders to those who need to hear it and abide by it, all the while he forgoes it. ]

[ closing his mouth, he sighs through his nose. bellamy can't quite feign how exhausted he is. from fighting, from thinking, from running for his own life — this place here, in this strange world, far from the reach of the camp, feels just like home. it's getting more and more difficult for him to understand that it isn't. ]

[ he walks without acknowledging she's spoken, his legs moving at a slower pace, one that's more for him than her. bellamy doesn't think he's ever treated raven as though she's her leg and not the girl who had built a bomb, who had helped him navigate his way through the belly of the mountain, and dismantle the fog that he'd been afraid would sweep across his people if he had fucked up and cut the wrong wire. she's raven, the pain in the ass who had been a blessing in disguise, the person he finds he trusts most in his place. she's not her leg, even though he wonders if she's been pushing herself a little too hard on it. ]

[ he doesn't ask. he knows she won't appreciate it. ]

[ it's on a sigh that he speaks again, ] I'm going to take a look around. Make sure there's no one out there. Or if this Agatha's left us any surprises. [ from the corner of his eye, he looks at her before he admits, ] I can't sit around and do nothing.

[ she understands it better than most would. it's a listlessness she had known sitting in her tent, hoping her leg wouldn't hinder her from moving about as she once had, when the others had seemed to deem her useless in their refusal to allow her to pretend and posture as though she hadn't been wounded at all. raven hasn't much enjoyed change; it had begun with finn finding another, and now it's followed her in her injuries, in the ache of her bones where the drill had burrowed into her and her leg's refusal to carry her as powerfully as she should. their surroundings aren't much of a welcome sight, either, even if it isn't as uneasy to sleep within as a tent. she's still guarded, regardless, and as uneasy — and while her hands haven't yet begun to fidget, waiting for any task to occupy themselves, she's feeling the same strain upon herself as bellamy is. ]

Sleeping isn't doing nothing. You're no use to any of us if you aren't alert. [ it's more pragmatic of an approach than to insist he's being a pain in the ass by refusing to step inside in search of respite, but raven is aware no argument will persuade him otherwise — if only in knowing she and bellamy are similar in this aspect, too stubborn to heed any orders or protests. even then, she shrugs her shoulders, narrowing her eyes to look off into the night sky and their surroundings. ] You really think anyone even knows we're here? [ it's been abandoned by agatha, from what raven spies — but if she wanted to sneak in, she suspects this agatha would know more than any of them about the house they reside within. she follows, pace slow, shifting her weight from her bum leg to the other as she sighs through her nose. ] Even if they do, we have the advantage for now. [ an advantage in what — well, raven isn't entirely sure, still pondering what they're meant to be fighting for. ]

Yeah.

[ it doesn't matter much to bellamy. in the end, he's only so useful, and he finds that it's easier to be if he's on alert, if he prevents what had happened at home from occurring here. there's no sun in the sky, no symbol for any hope — bellamy knows that if he's to build himself some wings to fly himself out of this particular hole, he won't even be able to navigate his way back home. there's no light and there's hardly any familiarity in this particular place, save for the trees and the air and the desperate need to do something. ]

[ not sleeping won't help them at all. but bellamy doesn't want to sleep in fear of what he'll see when he closes his eyes. he'd been sleeping lightly in the mountain, refusing to let himself fall too deep in fear his waxed wings would melt if he flew a little too close to the comforting heat of the sun. ]

[ he just sounds tired, and feels it, letting it slump his shoulders and make his movements a touch sloppier. there's a good chance he could pretend with raven, but he has a feeling that she'll see right through it. he'd once called a spade a spade with her, and he knows she's always keen to return the favour. ]

I wouldn't put it past this Agatha and her friends to not have eyes on this place. [ it sounds paranoid to his ears, but sometimes it's best to think like that. to be as paranoid and suspecting as he never wants to be, expecting the worst from those around him. he feels like he's not listening to mom, telling him fear is a demon that should be slain before it has any chance to crawl inside of him and burrow so deep he can't exorcise it. but he already has felt it coil around his ribcage and stay there, and so does the tiredness join it as he looks out at the trees and sees them all blur together. ] It's always best to be prepared. We might be the ones with the advantage; I don't want to lose it.

[ or simply sit and wait for the sparks to fly in the dark. ]

Isn't that what we want?

[ for agatha to return, ready to throw herself into the fire, but raven knows it isn't so easy to lure her back to her residence. if they're to encounter agatha, it's for a reason — a reason that sits in this very house, raven suspects. it frustrates her to think they haven't found any hints sitting in the house, in rooms raven has already rifled through with little success in learning any secrets. for the moment, she feels as useless as she is; she isn't with a weapon to guard the house as he is, she isn't a mechanic that's able to easily piece anything together without the proper equipment, and she isn't much of a leader to hold them together. she only has her ideas — and even those seem to hardly offer much aside from the presumption that agatha isn't as far away as they may think, even if it unsettles her to know she may bring her friends to fight for the house behind them. it's not a battle that's quite raven's own yet, even if it gives her some sense of purpose when she feels that she lacks one.

nevertheless, she doubts they're attracting anyone by speaking where anyone would be able to hear them, but raven's thoughts aren't lingering on agatha. she looks at the back of bellamy's head before she takes another long stride, at his side and easily keeping her gait identical to his own as she speaks. ] This feels pointless. [ this — whatever they're doing now. it's a confession of raven's own frustration at feeling like their efforts have achieved little, like they have no opportunity to return home, beneath alastair's thumb in a way that leaves her uneasy. she has to trust bellamy, who has to trust clarke, and sometimes trusting the woman who chose an alliance over her friends isn't as easy for raven as she might have once believed. ]

[ bellamy doesn't know. that's the most frustrating part of it all. he'd understood what he had wanted from their enemy and for his people, easily looking at the grounders in a black and white colour scheme. but ever since he had met echo, ever since he had seen lincoln at his best and worst, everything has shifted into a shade of grey. ]

[ he remains quiet for a moment, looking off to the side, brows furrowed deeply. he opts to not answer her, forgoing it for the moment; he doesn't know what he wants, but he thinks it could be best to have agatha or her friends return to her house. he wants to know more about the order, about alastair, about why clarke had been thrown into jail and who was the one mostly responsible for it. he wanted his answers that he didn't wish to learn as he went, knowing that that is what had almost killed them all, that it was the very thing that had killed some of them. ]

It's better than sitting around. [ he takes it literally, and a part of him knows he does so on purpose. he can't sit, he can't sleep, he can't patrol without feeling on edge. this is the lesser of all the potential evils, and so bellamy falls back into the familiar, irritated with his surroundings and those who pose a threat instead of slinking away into the night to sleep. ]

[ remaining quiet for a few moments, bellamy looks at her from the corner of his eye. he has the answer, he thinks, and though it's one that sometimes feels as weak as it is strong, it's all he has. he's unsure if raven seeks a direction now, but within this moment it feels like she's looking at him as though she sees him as a leader more than a friend. ] We need to do this so we can go back home. Maybe Agatha or Arthur or whoever can give us a shortcut way there. [ he sighs out, ] Maybe they can help us with the Grounders.

[ she knows, almost more than anyone within the camp, the listlessness of sitting on her ass. she isn't of use until they have a task for her, until there's equipment sitting in front of her; she relies on their leadership to know when to work with her hands, what to shape for them, to be offered any purpose at all. only then does she feel as though she's an integral member within their camp, even if bellamy had seen fit to remind her of it once before. she isn't much of a backbone for them, but she knows her hands are their support, holding them up when they require it. she's succeeded in showing it for bellamy and for clarke, breaking her from her prison here, but she doubts they need her as much now — not until there's a need for her and her hands to brace them once more, but she doesn't feel as though she has much to offer in a world where the technology is like nothing she's ever seen for herself before.

shoving her hands into her pockets, she's silent, letting the wind sit between them and speak for her. her only acknowledgement is an absently spoken, ] Yeah. [ that's nearly a resigned sigh from her lips, but she isn't of the same thought as bellamy. after a moment, she speaks up, reminding him, ] That's if they let us. [ return home, that is; it doesn't sound so easy to raven's own ears, as she knows alastair is in need of them for a reason she's yet to truly comprehend. ] They need us for something. They're not going to be letting us off the hook so easily. [ if there is a shortcut, she suspects it's one that won't be easily found, but she keeps that thought to herself as she looks out toward the trees. ]

Not unless we force their hand.

[ which may or may not cause more trouble than it's worth, but bellamy needs to get back home to octavia. if she hasn't been recruited, if their people haven't been kidnapped again and thrown wherever the hell they are, then he has to get back. he'd thought, and sometimes still does think, that this is another portion of their earth, undiscovered by the sky people and maybe even the grounders, but touched by a new kind of enemy that's bound to cause trouble for them. it's the way he wants to rationalise it, though. it's easier to think alastair may be the new mountain men, giving him an experience he had missed out on when he'd been locked out of the drop ship and trying to outrun being roasted like the rest of the grounder princess' clan. ]

[ bellamy rubs his face with his hand hard. it's with a sigh he feels the weight on his shoulders shift, the tiredness sit on him again. he feels sluggish when he shouldn't; he's run on adrenaline before, using it to power through the mountain and remain on alert, knowing that maya may have his back but no one had hers but him. he'd used it all up inside of that mountain, but bellamy refuses to putter out now. ]

[ he doesn't stop walking. looking down at the ground, he tilts his head to look at her. ] We're going to need to get you a weapon. At least something bigger than a knife.

With three of us and how many of them? [ her voice is dry, nearly sarcastic, as though she's able to draw his attention to how absurd it sounds. the three of them together are skilled, but they're lacking — in a strategy, in supplies, in soldiers. raven is even without equipment, without what she requires to build a bomb or offer them the bullets they would need in a battle. it isn't like it has been on the ground, scavenging for parts she has found again and again, or rallying their forces to fight. their fellow recruits are those raven neither trusts or intends to sway to her side, not until they've proven their loyalty — and even then she doubts they would easily follow, having agendas of their own. clarke and bellamy are more eloquent than nearly anyone she had encountered on the ark, but their promises mean little here. until they have valuables to offer in exchange for any assistance in forcing the hands that have sent them here to return them to their homes, raven knows they're as trapped here as any other individual announcing as much on the network.

her hand brushes against the knife in her pocket at his own words, frown appearing as she easily sweeps aside the subject to speak on another matter entirely. ] I like this knife. [ it nearly sounds petulant, but raven knows she's more handy with such a weapon than any other. she's been more adept with her hands than with a gun; if there's any weapon she wants, it's something that fits easily within her own hand and relies upon the power of said hand. as if he's forgotten, she reminds him, ] I'm not a shooter. [ she hadn't had any reason to be — not then and not now, she thinks, as she has never wanted to be a soldier. ] Melee only. I don't need bullets for that. Find me something useful and then we'll talk about weapons.

[ as stupid as it sounds, bellamy thinks the three of them can take on a whole bunch of grounders. all it takes is one smart move, one quick and easy decision, and they'd be toast. maybe not as literally as the first wave of grounders had been, but bellamy's seen how the minds of a few have taken down the many — or tried to, almost being successful if not for how quickly everything had escalated inside of mount weather. he still thinks his escape from the backroom behind the medical bay had been a good success, an impossible feat for anyone who wasn't as fortunate as him to have maya as his guardian angel. ]

[ regardless of the hopeless optimism and belief he has, he remains quiet, opting to not speak at all. he knows whatever he'd say would be shit, anyway — raven hadn't seen inside of the mountain, but she'd been at its conclusion, and even bellamy can't deny it hadn't been one that felt much like a success, either. ]

[ he sighs and amends: ] You need more than one knife. [ a knife is fine, even though he knows he'd feel better if raven didn't need to be in close contact to anyone who happens to be attacking her. raven can take care of herself, but not with only one weapon that can be easily knocked from her hands. he's wasted too much time clamouring for his to know that that only wastes time and any potential moment he may have had to strike the grounder who had dragged him along after his horse. in an ideal world, no one would be after her, but he knows his hackles are raised for a reason. he looks away, as though the trees will give him his answer, before his gaze returns back to her. ] Like a spear or something.

[ one knife or two knives, raven knows she's not so handy with either. she lacks the finesse needed, no matter how swiftly she's able to draw it from her pocket and point it against another's neck. he's felt it for himself, beneath the edge of her blade, but she's rarely had to fight her way through much. it's almost always been her own mind, relying on bellamy or clarke and even finn as her weapon instead, covering her when she requires it. it's how they've worked together as a team, but she has an inkling that isn't so useful here — not when they're forced to support each other against a faceless organisation, lacking in resources against someone who seems to hold all of the power in their hands. but maybe she prefers it like this, having to face each enemy while looking into her eyes; it offers her a reminder they're as human, as vulnerable to an attack, when she knows some have forgotten the difference between friend and foe and blurred the lines between killing and murder. ]

A spear. [ her laughter is quiet, more to herself than toward bellamy's insistence. she shrugs a shoulder, looking out toward their surroundings as she mutters, ] I could build my own if I had the parts for it. [ and the equipment, but she thinks that much is unspoken, regardless. but it's still a spear, a weapon that requires more precision and quicker reflexes; raven is aware of her lack of skill and experience in any battles, as it's been the sharpness of her mind and her ideas that she has struck against another. her eyes move back to bellamy, honest when she confesses, ] You know I don't know how to handle a spear. [ but raven reyes has never resigned herself to defeat so easily, always wishing to prove herself to be the best at what she sets her mind to. ] Guess it's time to learn.

[ bellamy rolls his eyes at her laughter. a spear isn't much, but it's something better than a knife, and it gives her more room to maneuver if she needs it. considering he's been in tight spaces, unable to really get the jump on his attacker, he thinks it best she prepare for almost any situation that can come with a melee. she doesn't have the support of her leg, but he supposes that's where they can get creative, learning what suits her and what doesn't when it comes to making up for that lost limb. ]

[ it's how he chooses to think, anyway. it's always strategic. how to be better. how to be the best. he hadn't thought himself capable of taking on a grounder, let alone a man in uniform inside of the mountain, but bellamy's proven himself wrong when he's high on the drug of adrenaline. raven will be able to surprise herself, too. ]

[ keeping that thought to himself, he looks out at the forest, as though he suspects movement in the dark. thankfully, there's nothing but the sound of their feet on the ground and the creaking of the night. it's normal, in its own weird and unusual way. he prefers to be outside than inside for now. ]

I could teach you. [ his voice is quiet. he glances at her from the corner of his eye before tilting his head to look at her properly. it's with a quirk to his lips he speaks, ] Can't be any different from using a rifle to hit someone.

Brute force at its finest. [ though dry, it isn't intended as an insult. even so, she hasn't been made for combat; her leg ensures as much, relying upon a brace to even hold herself steady in her steps, when any sharp foe would easily be able to observe such a weakness and disarm a girl that's as inexperienced as herself. she's a swift learner, regardless, one that's easily baited to a challenge — and though bellamy doesn't voice it as one, raven believes it's another skill she'll need to harness, especially if she's to prove herself to be useful to those around her. or so she says, in spite of knowing she only wants recognition and acknowledgement from herself, refusing to accept there isn't a piece of equipment she falters in conquering. some would say it's arrogance, but it's merely a shield raven hides behind when her insecurities are eager to battle her and break her, sometimes requiring the reminder she's worthy when she's searching for any purpose in the camp and here.

she supposes she has it now, something to occupy her when her hands feel empty. she shrugs a shoulder, resigning herself, even if it isn't much of a chore for her at all. ] I don't really have a choice, do I? [ her eyebrow lifts, leaving her to both sound and appear more amused than anything. she knows it to be true; she needs a weapon like he insists, as it isn't so much of a want as it is an obligation to learn to fight like a warrior. ] I hope you're as badass with a spear like your sister would be. [ as she imagines he's the better teacher while octavia is powerful, an inspiration to look upon, no matter how viciously bellamy wants to guard her from the grounders and any foe that might approach her. ]

[ at the mention of octavia, bellamy remains quiet. to him, it's a secret he wants to her to be here, if only so he can settle knowing that she's fine. she can take care of herself and even a man who has grown up as a grounder, fighting to live each and every day, but he still wants his sister to be with him. being apart from her had lead him astray, leaving him feeling splintered when he'd let lincoln take her away to take care of her. ]

[ apart from the crunching his feet make against the ground, even the environment around them is silent. he remains quiet, but there's a shift in his expression that seems to follow suit, pinching slightly as he doesn't look at raven or anywhere in particular. but as quickly as it comes, it disappears as he sighs. ] Guess we'll find out.

[ he doesn't need to have trained as a guard to want her to be properly prepared for what may come their way. he expects the worst, given that's all he's received, and he thinks raven should be prepared for it to come her way, too. raven does have a choice, one between being prepared and vulnerable, and he thinks that her lack of an option can be found in who she is as a person. he's seen her refuse to give up, even when the world around her had been crumbling. he knows he's not forcing this on her as he's only waking her up to what it is she may doubt herself able to do. ]

When we get back, check the house and see if there's anything you can make a spear out of. Doubt there's anyone nearby we can take one from. [ he looks at her again, putting his thoughts together. ] I think this may be one of the only times we're left alone by ALASTAIR. We need to take advantage of it.

[ take one from. she snorts, as though the thought of itself is absurd. while desperation might push her toward the determination needed to steal, it seems pointless to push apart those that allegedly support them in their efforts to break away from alastair. she's yet to reach out to her fellow recruits, but they may prove themselves to be useful yet — for more than rifling and pillaging through their own possessions and values. at the very foundation of their fight against alastair, however, raven knows she'll easily betray if it entails bellamy's survival — and clarke's, refusing to leave her behind even after the blows they've exchanged. it shouldn't come to that, or at least the piece of her that wants to escape confrontation believes; while the grounders had come to them to provoke a fight, she has seen how alliances have led toward greatness — or the promise of it, at least, when it isn't involving a leader as callous as lexa leading such an army.

raven isn't so keen to follow in the commander's footsteps, but she purses her lips rather than saying as much. ] And what, break the wall or something? Chop a tree? [ it's flippant purposefully once she shrugs a shoulder; she knows they have wood, but it's piecing together more than a flimsy weapon that's more important to her. ] I've never built a spear before. [ but that hasn't stopped her in building bombs or bullets; as though remembering it, she releases a small sigh from her mouth. ] They're probably watching us right now, but that's not gonna stop me. [ from anything, but she thinks that much to be implied without voicing as much, as not even their prison had deterred either of them from stealing clarke away. ]

[ it's dark, and it's useless, but bellamy still looks around as though he'll see a pair of eyes lit up in the shadows to prove her right. he doesn't doubt that they're not watching, but he wants to believe they're just being paranoid. she's being hyper-aware and intense in her own, believing that whoever had swiped them from camp jaha is lingering nearby, listening to them. it'd make sense even back home, believing a grounder to be in a tree or a bush. they camouflage themselves all too well within an environment the sky people are still only learning, but he has a feeling the people of alastair are more akin to those found dead in mount weather. it's like being home again, fighting a war on two fronts, the two armies capable of different things. ]

[ he licks his lips when he looks at her again and stops walking. ] We'll figure it out. [ bellamy knows he can always ask the network, always see if clarke knows someone who can tell them what to do, how to build a spear, the components necessary. he's only ever really seen one fly toward him or be held in the hand of a grounder. but he doubt sit to be so difficult. find a stick and find something sharp to turn into a hot point, and all they'll need to do is practice. he knows how to aim and throw a knife; bellamy isn't so sure he knows how to craft a spear. ]

If the Grounders can do it, we can do it. [ he sighs through his nose, feeling something crawl inside of his chest. it's akin to being tired, but bellamy doesn't let himself feel it, always choosing to push himself to the limit instead of taking a rest. he tries to think, but comes up blank, and continues to push himself even then. ] And if they're looking, we'll give them a show.

[ even raven has to acknowledge the expertise of the grounders, appreciating the craftsmanship of their own weapons and the fire they possess inside of themselves. if not for their commanders and their callous approach, she would find herself fascinated; instead, she only seeks to replicate their designs and to see them improved upon, as though proving their people are the enemy any army should fear. the grounders intimidate, but camp jaha doesn't tremble in return, crafty themselves in discovering new ways in which to arm themselves and guard against those that would otherwise destroy all they've worked for and earned for themselves. it seems alastair has yet to learn as much, but she's quick to agree with bellamy. give them a show — maybe then they'll understand who, precisely, they're dealing with. in spite of the fragility of her leg, raven is tired of being underestimated by her friends and foes alike, even if she recognises that it's foolhardly to provoke them before they've decided to strike first. and strike they will, if raven's suspicions are right, to keep them submissive and in line like loyal little soldiers. ]

Like the prison. [ she recites it dryly; that had been a show itself, an act of rebellion, even if it hadn't been opposed by alastair themselves. instead they had scurried through it like rats in a maze, doing their bidding for them — and raven has no doubt that they've all been marked and remembered, prisoners and those that fashioned themselves heroes sweeping in to rescue a damsel. their eyes will be on them, and raven reminds him of as much when she points out, ] We already have targets on our heads. [ not that she blames either bellamy or clarke for it. it had been her own decision to step into the prison with him, but she regrets little of her involvement in freeing an innocent woman. ]

We had targets on our heads the first day we got dropped here.

[ the lanterns, regardless of how small and minor and so innocent they had been, had been the first task that had seen them almost loyal to alastair. he thinks it's enough proof to anyone looking that they're motivated by self-interest, determined to investigate those who have roped them in to do their bidding while also trying to have their cake and eat it, too. bellamy isn't so blind or stupid to not see that, and even though he sometimes thinks he's overthinking it, he knows he needs to be prepared for it. ]

[ the prison had been an example of them being rebellious, doing what they wanted to do against an enemy they have yet to understand. but it doesn't feel out of the ordinary to him. they hardly understood the grounders when they blew up the bridge; they barely dug deep into the mountain men's motivations before cracking open a window to let fresh air in. ]

[ bellamy appears disgruntled. he always is, always teetering on the cusp of annoyed. it's either that or being exhausted, and so he settles for an annoyed frown on his face instead of falling apart, even sighing or sitting as the moment he stops moving he knows he won't be able to get started again. ]

[ instead of saying what he wants to say, something that feels cluttered in his mind about needing to only trust one another, to keep each other in the loop, he finds his voice lowers into a decibel of disappointment and his whole body wants to collapse with it. ] O's still not here. [ he doesn't look at raven, not dead-on or out of the corner of his eye. ]

Yeah. [ she releases it in a sigh, but it's an easy agreement. at least camp jaha had offered her a choice to have a target painted on her. she had almost run from it until bellamy had insisted she should stay, that they needed her, and raven believes she's looking for a reason to linger in his own words now. it had been an effort she had been loyal to, something she had believed in, but she has no desire to take a bullet for alastair. they've offered her little while expecting everything in return, but it isn't their refusal to negotiate with her that sees her unsettled by their tactics. it's the mystery surrounding their own endeavours that keeps her from committing herself to anyone but those she knows — bellamy and even clarke, if she chooses to rely on her. if there's going to be a target on her head, it will damn well be for something she stands for.

shoving her hands awkwardly into her pockets, she stands nearby, walking with slow steps when he seems to move. there isn't much to watch aside from the shadows and the leaves rustling when she narrows her eyes into the night, but maybe it's quiet bellamy seems. maybe she's intruding on an important moment she isn't meant to see. she thinks to open her mouth to excuse herself, presuming it's seclusion he wants, until he mentions octavia and raven's own mouth purses. ]

I know. [ o's a big girl, raven wants to say, but she suspects it will bring him no comfort. ] Maybe she'll show up. [ but that doesn't see her so soothed, either. it isn't the place for octavia, and so she settles upon, ] But at least she's out of their reach.

[ what bellamy wants to tell himself is that he wants isolation. he wants raven to leave so he can be by himself. but what bellamy needs is to not be left alone. he'd been abandoned by lincoln in the mountain, leading him to find maya and her family, her friends who had believed in his cause, and then he had turned his back on them. clarks's left him alone to deal with the aftermath of their decision, and bellamy, as much as he wants to be left alone, to remain unbothered, knows he doesn't need it. ]

[ being left alone is what had almost driven him insane on the ark. it'd felt him weighted down, hopeless. when clarke had turned her back on him, he felt it blossom inside his chest once more. but it'd grown roots, latching onto the base of his ribcage, long before clarke had left him in the wake of their decision of together. ]

[ he looks to raven with a look of disbelief. he doesn't know what it's in reference to — her belief she'll show up or her thinking o is far from their reach. bellamy doubts she's safe; alastair might be more smart than he's given them credit for, knowing he'll be obedient if octavia's been recruited into their ranks. ]

You really think that? [ and for once, it's not confrontational. he wants to know. does raven really believe that octavia is far from their reach? how does she know? bellamy's always been looked to as though he has the answers, has never relied on anyone but mom to guide him. but now he needs it, someone to press their hand in the small of his back to push him in the direction he needs to go. ]

[ does she believe it? raven has never offered soothing words if they aren't sincere, but she knows what he needs to hear. she knows what she should say, that octavia won't fall into their hands, but raven won't offer him a promise that's impossible to keep. if monty or jasper had come to her with the same question, she would be softer in the manner with which she speaks, but bellamy is different. he doesn't need to have his hand held, or to be sheltered from what he doesn't want to hear. he knows how their camp works, how to be a soldier and a leader simultaneously. he isn't just a kid, and raven knows he's too fond of octavia for her to mislead him into being content at the thought of his sister arriving. but there's also some side of raven that doesn't want him to scorn her or to mistrust her if octavia appears, and so she's open with her honesty. ]

Yeah. [ it sounds initially uneasy, but the conviction is more powerful when she adds, ] I do. [ but she knows octavia would be a useful asset and ally to have, and she suspects alastair is as shrewd to select her for recruitment. if they're able to pluck herself and bellamy from their world, she knows they might see an opportunity to steal octavia. ] And even if they do take her, she would kick their ass. And they would deserve it. [ she smiles to herself, endeared to the other girl at the thought. it's admirable, something raven has found herself fond of. ] I'll keep an eye out, see if she shows up. [ it's all she's able to offer, truthfully, but at least octavia will have another friend on her side. ]

[ bellamy wants to pretend he doesn't know why he asks it. he's only been worried in the face of a grounder, anxious to get away from tristan and his leash trying finn to his horse. he's only shown fear when he'd been faced with the hallucination of some of the people from his home on the ground. but he knows he shows it when octavia's around. anyone with eyes can see it, how he frets whenever she's wandered too far. even with lincoln, he worries, knowing that lincoln will fall on his own sword to protect her, leaving her alone when he's come to understand it's his companionship octavia likes most. octavia doesn't need protecting, has mostly never needed it at all, but bellamy doesn't like the thought of being apart from her or with her in this place. ]

[ it's confusing to want her here yet have her remain far, far away. though he's been focused, determined to pull clarke from the depths of her own cell, he's been slightly frazzled. unfocused, waiting for news of octavia to surface. it'd hurt when he'd discovered clarke had lied to him about where octavia was. having raven tear it apart had only seen him feel slightly stung by her commitment to the lie. ]

[ he looks down and nods his head, accepting her words even though they don't bring him much comfort. octavia can take care of herself, but sometimes octavia is still the girl beneath the floor, unsure of how to navigate her way home. ] Yeah.

[ it doesn't hit him that he trusts raven to look out for octavia when he glances at her from the corner of his eye. he already knows; her stating that simply makes him feel validated in feeling comfortable with her watching out for his sister in the first place. ] Thanks.

[ then he looks around, narrowing his eyes as though the sun is in its rightful place in the sky. ] I keep checking the network, but she hasn't shown up. All the usernames are weird.

[ it isn't his thanks she requires to motivate her. octavia is one of their own, his family, and raven understands the importance of it. octavia is what finn had been to her once she had begun to think of him as her own blood rather than a lover, and a part of her she knows she feels almost empty without him when she focuses too much on the hole inside of her. though she isn't so arrogant as to assume she knows what he feels, she imagines it must be similar — like having a piece of her ripped out, incomplete until octavia is returned to him. knowing the significance of his sister to him is enough to inspire her to keep an eye out for the other girl to arrive, to even steal the promise and take it back with them to camp jaha. octavia needs no one to protect her, that much raven realises, but it hasn't stopped any of them from looking out for each other — especially when they're at their most vulnerable.

raven thinks she sees it in bellamy now, but she doesn't openly acknowledge it. like her, she doubts he's the type to want to talk so intimately of his feelings unless it's of his own accord, and so she only offers the smallest slip of comfort she's able to give him. she shrugs a shoulder, a silent don't mention it. she doesn't want to be thanked for doing what comes naturally to her, for what feels right. octavia isn't much of a friend, no, but it doesn't change raven's opinion of the other girl. she's admirable, powerful, and raven will be damned if she lets alastair get their grubby hands on what must mean the world to bellamy. she had failed to protect finn, but she's determined not to fail in this. ]

The people are weird. [ foreign. unfamiliar. raven knows it's her own homesickness speaking — missing monty and jasper, the banter with wick. she smiles to herself for a moment, a small little hint of wistfulness within the curve of her lips, before she sighs out her words. ] It'd be nice to have the whole team here. [ not simply octavia, even if she wishes to keep them far from alastair all the same. ]

Can you imagine Monty here? [ bellamy pulls a face, a subtle movement of his features as his mood shifts temporarily. he won't forget the feeling of missing octavia, knowing it's ingrained in him to be overwhelmed by it when his sister is nowhere within his sight. it's the kind of emptiness he'd been plagued with for a year after mom had been floated and octavia arrested. to walk into an empty unit on the ark had been akin to a slap, and he thinks the council had known that was the worst punishment for bellamy for his own disobedience to the guard and its policies of always reporting in illegal activity. ]

[ tilting his head back, he glances up at the canopy, trying to spy the moon. it's a little difficult to, given how the trees here seem to be as wild as the ones back home, growing out and reaching their branches toward their neighbour to hold hands. the corner of his lip quirks upward, ] He'd say something about the moon. Probably the leaves. I'm sure he'd figure out how to get the sun back.

[ in all honesty, raven wants to imagine none of their friends and comrades here, overprotective at the very thought of any of them being taken from their camp and working toward alastair's goals. it hadn't stopped her from imagining it, however, when the nights were lonelier than ever — when the reminder they were in foreign territory was too powerful for her to forget. she could easily envision it now, standing together rather than separated by a faceless organisation she placed little of her trust in. as saddening as the thought of everyone they had known lingering so far away from them, even throughout raven's attempts to reach their radios, the image summoned a wistful smile from her all the same.

at the very least, it seemed to pull him away from his own thoughts, from wondering whether octavia would fall into alastair's hands. it was a small achievement, though raven didn't pause in her thoughts to pride herself from distracting him. ] Yeah. [ narrowing her own eyes as though it would allow her to see the sun or the moon in the sky, raven tilted her head toward the sight, familiar and strange all at once. but she was quick to follow it with a sigh, shoving her hands into her pockets. ] Monty would be useful right around now. [ so would wick, or jasper, or octavia — even abby, but raven kept that thought to herself. ] We'll see if they get my signal. [ she doubts it, though, having already heard nothing from the camp in spite of waiting for any word. shrugging her shoulder, she adds, ] At least we have each other.

[ those words should fill him with a sense of dread. bellamy's relied on no one but himself to survive on the ark and the ground — and then, he'd had octavia out of the skybox, building him up and tearing him down. he doesn't find it a weird concept as he would in the beginning, trusting the girl who had shot herself down in a metal contraption to see the earth on some stupid whim of a plan. raven had helped him when he needed it most, had kept him grounded and focused while acknowledging his own concern and fright. if bellamy could choose any person to be stuck with in this weird place, it would be octavia — it's always octavia. but raven comes in at a close second or third, depending on how selfish he wants to be. ]

We just have to keep trying. [ he says it quietly. if it doesn't work, raven will make it work. if raven needs something else to make it work, bellamy knows he'll get it for her. it's easy; like a colony of ants, minus the others that make it a colony, bellamy knows they work well together. it isn't something he wants to deny. it isn't something he will deny. ]

I was going to go for a walk. [ he gestures at their darkened surroundings. if anything, bellamy will become lost until daybreak, and even without the sun, he has a feeling he'd be able to make his way back to the house. patrolling, walking, it's all the same in a world that's completely odd and undiscovered by them. he wants to make sure he knows the ways around the house, even if they'll stay for another day or two. it's better to busy his mind with tracking and tracing than it is to sit around and wait for something to happen. ]

[ an awkward pause settles after his words. he tilts his head in her direction, almost unsure if he wants to look at her. ] You want to come?

[ only rarely does raven resign herself to what sounds or seems impossible. if it isn't a challenge, it isn't worth the effort; being presented with her grandest test of all, though frustrating, has only strengthened her resolve to see it pliable and malleable in her hands — to bend it to her own wishes. once, it had been a show of her skill, determined to find another accomplishment she could boast of — and though it still smarts her pride to encounter technology she has little experience with, finding she flounders like she never quite has, she has made every attempt to be useful. it's no longer a matter of admiring herself, but making another proud, to show she's a girl that even a leader can rely upon.

failing bellamy isn't an option in her mind. neither is surrendering to alastair, and so she easily agrees, ] I'll let you know what I need. [ if she requires anything at all, but the equipment here is more limited than raven would prefer. keeping the critique of where they've found themselves to herself, raven averts her attention to where he gestures to their surroundings. she isn't so certain it's an invitation; she doesn't move toward the house or where he suggests he'll wander, waiting. he's always been rather blunt with his desires, with letting her know what it is he needs, and she receives it when he welcomes her to join him with his question. ] Yeah. I'm sure Clarke can handle herself. [ she has no doubt of that, content to leave the other girl in the house to defend it briefly by herself. and though she supposes it could be argued, clarke isn't idiotic; while she had found her way into a prison, raven knows the power of clarke's own determination, having witnessed her for herself.

shifting, she steps forward, strides small as she waits for him to follow. ] Might wanna map the place. [ its surroundings, at least, if that hadn't been the purpose for bellamy wanting to take a walk to begin with. ]

[ bellamy's not the artsy one. he doesn't make the maps, doesn't even try to draw them. he prefers the ones clarke makes, with their incredible detail, even if it's sometimes overkill. the ones they'd been provided over the last several days have been sparse at best, requiring him to have faith in what he believes to be a tree with hands or a rock with a snarling face. it's primitive at its best. where the ark had been easy to navigate with its boring corridors and its numbers painted on the walls, the ground is wild and free. and he hates it. ]

[ following raven with slow steps, he keeps his rifle over his shoulder and his watch lifeless. he thinks he could try and map this place by video, maybe send it to her or himself, but he doesn't understand the technology. can he record anything like they did in the past? they'd gotten the football matches somehow, and he figures it might be from something better than a damn watch. ]

Yeah. [ bellamy seems to come to life, no longer worried of octavia, soft and secretive with his tone. instead, he's joking, tone a lot warmer and definitely foreign for someone so stoic and frustrated all the time. ] Knowing all the trees look the same in the dark is really useful.

[ There is no majesty about Agatha's house, nothing so welcoming as the Abel Inn which Sion himself had sought refuge in for a time—here, the paint strips itself from the walls, weeds grow unkempt, and the air is perfumed with the stale scent of herbs, and yet... Yet, he's certain he can fashion it into a home (with Clarke, with two friends who will soon be well met!); it will only take a little work. A bit of elbow grease here, a bit of care there, and while it is nothing if not an oddity, to cook with utensils not your own, there is soup simmering away upon the gaslit stove (enough for four!), and Sion stands at the adjacent counter-top, his knife-cuts alarmingly precise as he trims away at the scallions he'd intended to use for garnish.

True, they are supposed to be quiet in their endeavor to make the house appear every bit as abandoned as it once had been—all the better to lure Agatha back, after all!—but there must be lenience somewhere, and it is not in Clarke.

No harm will come from sharing a meal, and besides... if Agatha is to return to the house as she is, branded a fugitive, it will be for but a single reason alone: not out of sentiment, and not for lack of anywhere else to go, but because something had been left behind in her haste. Something crucial to her cause.

And if she were willing to risk so much for that something, the house's present inhabitants would be of no deterrence at all.

A gentle hum upon his lips, Sion turns, abandoning his mise en place to pay mind to the soup, stirring the broth which is thick and hardy with root vegetables—long ago, in a life away from here, it would have been something which he'd happily serve to his mother, ailing in bed. And she would say: ]

Thank you. [ Behind him, there had been footsteps, though Sion doesn't cast a glance over his shoulder, not just yet. ] For sharing a meal with me today.

[ when he had been younger, bellamy had been lead to believe everything on the ark was in unlimited supply. he can't remember where he got such an opinion of his home, if it was from seeing the privileged, hearing their stories about the football games they'd seen, the food they'd eaten, but he had once thought his home to be unstoppable. with air in plenty supply, along with food and clothes, the ark had been a dream home, one he hadn't questioned until he had grown older. ]

[ he's not used to any smell coming from any rooms. the food he remembers having had been in smaller portions, sometimes stale, sometimes hard, sometimes just right. on the ground, they've had burned meat, tasteless fruits and whatever the hell grew under the ground and on the leaves. he's not into agriculture, his expertise in guns and defence and even textiles, but he can smell and identify when something's cooking. ]

[ for a moment, he thinks monty's here. but there's no way in hell monty would be this quiet. ]

[ the smell lures him from where he lingers in another room, moving shit about to try and find something of use. a book to occupy him, bullets, a gun, knives, even a pair of new shoes that fit. he comes to the kitchen empty handed, save for his rifle still slung over his shoulder. he's moved it back and forth from both, even sleeping with it pressing near his neck, as he knows better than anyone that intruders like to return to their bases when it's least expected of them. ]

[ sion's not what bellamy had expected, but the niceness still has his back up. it's hard to disassociate sion's care from maya's, willingly taking them in, feeding them, if the smells of the kitchen and the sights from it are anything to go by, all because he knows one of them. people keep surprising bellamy; he wonders when he'll stop expecting the worst in people. ]

[ he doesn't know what to say to sion's comment, so all he does is nod and come further into the kitchen. it seems like an invitation, so he takes it as one. his brows furrow as he looks between sion and his own tools. ] What are you cooking?

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( CLOSED ) STARSHIPS WERE MEANT TO FLY

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