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[She shrugs, and hands him one of the bottles, climbing up on the bed so she can lean over and try to see what the view of the stars is really like.]

Yeah, and that's part of why I love it. But you should probably invest in curtains if you ever want to sleep in. [She turns around and drops onto the edge of the bed, twisting the cap off the beer and taking a sip. A memory resurfaces, and she actually smiles from it.]

Remember the tents? Every sunrise in them felt like the world outside was on fire. You'll think I'm crazy, but that was actually a thing I liked trading over space for.

[ he takes the proffered beer, twisting it open to flick the cap onto his windowsill. it's safer to toss it near his window to hear a clink against the glass than it is to leave it on the floor for one of the dogs. it's as though the sound is enough to alert chion to rattle his ice in his cooler. the pen still stands, half hidden behind the couch from where he sits. he pays the snowgie no mind, content to know he only rules that portion of the apartment now. ]

[ bellamy smiles, ] I could sleep in with that light. [ it seems muted in comparison to the sun slanting through a clear window. at the least material of his tent, regardless of how creamy or red it was, seemed to catch the sun and smooth out its sharpness for him. raising his beer to his lips he takes a sip of it, watching raven before he glances out his window. ]

I don't think you're crazy. [ his voice is slightly quiet. he holds the beer in his hand, feeling the condensation of the glass wet his palm. he doesn't shift it to his other hand, ignoring it. keeping his eyes on the window, his own tone seems to shift into something melancholic. ] I didn't realise how much I liked the stars until I didn't have the them anymore. [ the mountain had had no natural light, and it's then that bellamy had realised he missed what he had taken for granted. ]

[ leaning on his bed, he ensures to hold his beer upright as he tries to look out the window. half of him rests on the middle of his bed, resting his weight on his elbow as he tried to peer through the glass and even his ceiling to look at the stars. ]

[She holds the bottle between her knees (condensation: also feels that through her jeans) and gets the chocolate open, enough to snap off a small corner of it and eat it. She offers it to him next.]

Well, that's a very cliché thing to say, but I get it. [She shrugs, and keeps quiet there. She was the girl who walked among the stars, and now at best she manages to take Gruff up on a ride at night and pretend like she's close.]

Sometimes me and Gruff go for a ride at night. If you're not terrified of placing your life in my hands and the wings of a blind dragon, you're welcome to come. [She takes a sip of beer.]

As soon as he gets used to you.

[ if that isn't an invitation — and a good sign, one he's been unknowingly looking for — then he doesn't know what is. he smiles, close-lipped, when he looks at her. where he'd been trying to find a specific constellation to show her he hasn't forgotten, he finds himself distracted. ]

[ waving away her offer of chocolate, he pulls himself to sit in the middle of his bed. crossing his legs, he raises his beer and drinks it before letting his arms rest on his knees. his gaze doesn't waver from focusing on her. ]

I guess we'll find out if I'm afraid of heights. [ even though the thought of facing the unknown has always filled him with anxiety, bellamy finds he's excited by the prospect of what she proposes. it's childlike in his anticipation, getting to witness and experience a dragon as he had imagined ladon, but it's almost thrilling to know he hasn't messed up irreparably. it's new, and it's different — and it's something he wants to hold onto. ]

[ he tips his beer toward her, to show that he's been listening, ] And see if he likes me.

[She guesses even he's too big of a nerd not to accept the invitation to fly on a dragon, regardless of whether or not the risk is high. It won't be high, she'll get better at riding Gruff and then, she'll take him up among the stars.

She leans over and clinks her bottle's neck with his bottle.] We will see. [She leans her weight against her elbow, more or less spread at the foot of his bed, her head near the window so she can glance up at the sky occasionally.

It's cozy. See? They'll be fine. The beer's working, she feels less rattled.]

Hmmm...Heracles isn't out tonight. Not from where we sit, at least.

[ he looks at her, then glances out the window. it'd take him too long to be able to see heracles in the sky, not quite knowing where to look when he's not walking from her place to the beach. he turns back to her, back remaining slightly hunched as he sits. ] He could be visiting Megara. [ for valentine's day, but he doesn't say. nor does he even ask her if there's a megara constellation. he doubts there is, given the way greek myths seem to work. ]

[ he lifts the drink to his lips and says, ] He'll be back. [ and after he takes a drink of it, he leans backward, extending his arm and keeping the bottle upright, to place it on his windowsill. it's becoming crowded, with cerberus tucked in the corner of the window, clarks's painting beneath two books, and a notepad with pen, and now a bottle of beer. ]

[ he doesn't twist on the bed, glancing over his shoulder as though he can recognise any of the star patterns from here he sits in the middle of his bed. he can barely see many of the stars, so he twists to stretch out on his stomach, facing his window. ]

[Technically, the world they're on will rotate and they will chance to be under Heracles again in a determined interval. It has nothing to do with fairy tale visitations. She knows the science of it.]

I though she's a Disney thing. [But wasn't it a nice speech? A day without Megara in my life isn't worth it; what a loser, giving up immortality for the love of his life. Oh, how she can relate.

She starts looking around the place, and notices the painting. Draws in a quiet breath,] Did Clarke paint that?

[On commission, she has a couple of Clarke Griffin creations in her new place too, and she will agree with anyone who says she's a better artist than a leader, because she is. Clarke's a beautiful talent, it's wasted on war.]

[ he shakes his head. ] No. She's real. [ or as real as a greek figure could be. bellamy wants to think she existed, once, and was as strong and capable as the disney version of her happened to be. ]

[ looking to the watercolored painting of cerberus, bellamy smiles in fondness. even though clarke had asked him what he'd like drawn, bellamy hadn't expected her to draw it, let alone paint int and make it look as real as he had imagined it as a kid. ] Yeah. [ his smile is wide. he glances toward the window, but inevitably, his gaze lands on the painting of his three-headed dog. ]

[ glancing toward the toy cerberus, his smile only widens when he looks back toward the image of his namesake. ] It's incredible, right?

[ it seems as though everything on his windowsill is greek. from the toy dog raven had given him, sitting in the corner, looking out at the stars and watching over his two other heads in the form of golden retriever puppies, two books on homer's greek stories, and clarke's painting, the person bellamy is, and once had been, seems to be on display for anyone to see if they're looking for the signs that expose him. ]

[It couldn't be clearer, all she'd need would be one glance at what's near his bed to know what matters to him. Greek stories, and gifts from his friends. Her Cerberus watching over him as he sleeps, when he's not watching the stars, she rather likes that. She shifts closer, though, to take a look at an illustration of the dog he'd spoken so fondly of.

It's terrifying, but she thinks that this is the dog he considers to be most loyal. She had to have figured that for Bellamy, loyal and terrifying

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<small>[It couldn't be clearer, all she'd need would be one glance at what's near his bed to know what matters to him. Greek stories, and gifts from his friends. Her Cerberus watching over him as he sleeps, when he's not watching the stars, she rather likes that. She shifts closer, though, to take a look at an illustration of the dog he'd spoken so fondly of.

It's terrifying, but she thinks that this is the dog he considers to be most loyal. She had to have figured that for Bellamy, loyal and terrifying <i<could</i> go together. And they do.

Her eyes glance at the titles of the books, and she smirks. Looks at him again.]</small> You could say that it's your Achilles heel, the whole Greek stories thing.

[ he looks at her in amusement, brow arched and his smile wide. ] You think it's a weakness?

[ bellamy may smile, but he knows she's right. there's a reason why he never sat around one of the campfires at their first campsite and told story after story to the kids. there's a reason why he hasn't told anyone a single tale, save for raven, now, letting himself slip. mom will always be a vulnerable point for him; exposing this part of himself shows bits of her, and bellamy, for as selfish as he is, wants to keep aurora blake with him, only sharing her with octavia. ]

[ it's easier to shrug off being called an asshole, a murderer, or even a monster, but when it comes to aurora blake, he finds that he's ready and willing to give up at the first mention or thought of her disliking the person he's become. his greek stories are the only thing he has left of her. but bellamy doesn't think to tell anyone that. ]

[She shrugs.] No. But it does betray you. [She reaches out and gives Cerberus the toy a soft pat on the head, before taking a sip of her beer.]

You're a dreamer. Story-tellers usually are.

[ watching her acknowledge cerberus, he's the tamest dog in his apartment. quiet and obedient, he doesn't make a fuss over being looked at, let alone touched. he shifts on his bed so he's facing her slightly. he keeps his expression one of amusement, but bellamy finds that he's searching for something in her words. ] You say it like it's a bad thing to be.

Of course it's not. [Because, she thinks, for all her bluntness and all her similarities to a shark (a hammerhead, was it?), she's been a dreamer too. She dreamed the stars would carry her away from a shitty life on the Ark, she dreamed machines and contraptions most people didn't see the use of.]

You're in good company, right?

[ he shrugs his shoulders, unsure. the stories mom told him had kept him company long before octavia had ever been born. after that, they'd been the only friends bellamy could rely on after his sister had become his responsibility and even his only confidant. but now things are different; sometimes bellamy's grateful for the shakeup. ]

I guess. [ in bellamy's context, the greek figures could never tell the council on his mom for having a second child. they'd been a hell of a lot safer than making good friends with the kids his age living in section 17. who could they tell, when they only existed on paper or in mom's memory? ] I've never really thought about it. [ he shifts on his bed. ] I kind of thought everyone grew up hearing those stories.

[She lets out one very dry laugh.] No. [Her mother wasn't a story-teller, and if she ever told stories, Raven tuned them out as ramblings of a drunken woman. She hadn't been put to sleep once with a fairy tale, and she read all the stories she knows later, when she was older and her mother no longer traded everything for booze.

It makes her swallow a sudden burst of dormant rage, and down it with a longer sip of beer.] No, some of us never heard one.

[ sometimes bellamy doesn't realise how lucky he'd been growing up. at times, he thought himself to be unlucky, and he had when he'd lost mom and octavia for a year. in hindsight, though, he's begun to realise what he assumed everyone else may have had, he's able to give it to them now. looking at her, he thinks to nudge her. he goes to do so, except he doesn't do it with his elbow. lifting his leg, he nudges her with his foot to draw her attention to what she has now instead of what her hands had been empty of in the past. ]

You've heard some. [ from him, which may not be the same as hearing it as a child, or even from a mother. tilting his head slightly as he regards her, ] Not tired of them yet?

[Nudged, she breaks out of the webbings of her past, and reaches out to stroke the sole of his foot once, possibly scanning for tickles. But not pushing it.

She gives him a smile.] No. I'm still asking for them, aren't I?

[ he moves his foot away from her as subtly as he can, finding her touch against the sole of his foot to be ticklish. he lets his feet hang high, bent at the knee, swinging the one closest to her away from her. ]

Just checking.

[ he looks away to smile to himself. letting his legs hang off the side of his bed, bellamy shifts before he looks at her again, smile still lingering, even if the shyness of it disappears. ] I just wanted to make sure. I need to read up on some of them before I tell them to you. Want to get all the facts right.

[Is he trying to pretend he's a stork? No, he's ticklish and she will remember that for when she needs to use it. Not now, there's this beer to be had.

Maybe not the chocolate though, it's not agreeing with her much. She ignores the bar from hereon.]

You really could get away with it either way.

[ bellamy stretches, reaching for his beer on the windowsill, and tips it back. wiping his thumb against the glass, he looks at her with an arch of his brow. ] I'm not going to tell you the wrong story, Raven. [ he places the glass back on the windowsill, but doesn't unwrap his fingers from around it. ]

[ truthfully, now that he knows she's never had the luxury of aurora blake telling her story after story despite informing her she's to go to bed the moment they finish their second one, he doesn't want to lie to her. shifting it around to suit his own agenda, or simply making one up on the spot, letting her believe it's true even though it's not, he doesn't particularly want to lie. even though he's sure she wouldn't read up on it until later, or even care if he gave her a version that's his own, bellamy doesn't want to give her the wrong one. it means something to him, that she's even asking for stories, welcoming them as she seems to remember the names he says and asks for him to tell her about them later. ]

You could go around and spread it. I'm not going to be responsible for that.

Such outstanding work ethics. [What a change in personality he's had, since the first time she met him. It's shocking, really. She never thought she'd end up spilling her guts to the guy who welcomed her to Earth with a hand around her neck, let alone have a beer and talk about storytelling with him.

They've really grown as people.]

I try my best.

[ he'd puff out his chest if he wasn't lying on his stomach. instead, his voice sounds lighter than it usually is, or how it's become in eudio where he's had the opportunity to tease or joke. he lifts his beer and takes a swig of it, placing it back down on the windowsill. looking at it, he sees he's already drunk half. ]

[ turning to raven, he arches his brow, and tells her as though it's a fact, ] I take the integrity of stories very seriously.

[She hides her smile behind the sip of beer she takes, and thinks about that. Lets it steep for a bit, before coming up with:] You should write them.

[ touching the neck of his beer to his cheek, he's about to take another drink until she speaks. pulling his glass back, bellamy looks at her as though she's grown two extra heads. ]

Everyone knows the Greek stories. There's no use in writing what's in every book about them.

[ they've been through this before, with raven pushing him to try and do what he wants instead of what he thinks he needs. being at the coffee shop for the sake of keeping in line with what he had been thinking back when he first appeared in the city isn't healthy, let alone any use to him. ]

[ but bellamy likes to fall back into old patterns, even though the coffee shop isn't a part of his. ]

Sure, whatever, but they're written about a dude from centuries ago. [She shrugs.] You tell them different.

[She knows, because she's compared from memory. It's not her duty or job to set him on paths to self-discovery, she's merely making suggestions this time around.]

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ack, html failure ack

i see nothing of the sort.

good continue

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