[ More hosts had arrived from the station, and among them, someone had given Bellamy cause for recognition. He projects, Bellamy does - the brief image of Murphy's face, the familiarity of it. Someone he had known, from the world he'd come from. Someone to keep an eye out for, in one way or another. The knowing of Murphy seems inherently different from the knowing of Lexa, to be sure.
Murphy, he comes to find him, is busy searching through the paperbacks that Bellamy has been collecting.
The door is cracked enough, to where he can hear the commotion, and he is eerily gifted - silent, as he pulls the door open and lingers along the doorframe, folding his hands together as he observes for the fraction of a second. Amused, and nosy as the rest of the nest is, he finally raises his voice: ] Looking for something in particular?
c'mere u little shit
Murphy, he comes to find him, is busy searching through the paperbacks that Bellamy has been collecting.
The door is cracked enough, to where he can hear the commotion, and he is eerily gifted - silent, as he pulls the door open and lingers along the doorframe, folding his hands together as he observes for the fraction of a second. Amused, and nosy as the rest of the nest is, he finally raises his voice: ] Looking for something in particular?