WE DON'T WALK IN THE DARK. WE ARE THE DARK.

𝐇𝐄 𝐖𝐀𝐒𝐍’𝐓 𝐎𝐍 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐑𝐈𝐆𝐇𝐓 𝐒𝐈𝐃𝐄 𝐎𝐅 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐅𝐎𝐋𝐃. That much Aleksander knew as the noises of Ketterdam’s patrons and civilians bubbled up around him. He needed to get back to Ravka, even if Aleksander was sure the Tsar had heard of his… performance on the Fold. The surrounding nations’ dignitaries that Ivan had put down when they wouldn’t listen. Wouldn’t understand. 

Scars cut across his face, faded a bit from the work of a Healer, yes, but not enough to erase what the claws of the volcra had done in their frenzy. He might have escaped alive, but– 

It was not without a price. 

Hearing another call the name he’d taken, call out his name as General, he paused. Froze where he was. Already, the shadows thickened, a subconscious reaction on the Darkling’s part to the potential threat that the voice held. 

But he also, equally, recognized that voice. ❝ Reese. ❞ His tone was calm, almost deadly so. There existed a momentary second of hoarseness in his words, before Aleksander cleared his throat as he turned more fully to face the Heartrender. 

❝ Here I thought you were dead. ❞ He hadn’t seen the spy since he’d (presumably) defected from the Second Army. Aleksander had considered the fact that he’d run, that he’d fled. There were too many whispers in his ears that Reese was not to be trusted. Ivan, especially, didn’t seem to like the guy. 

Maybe the Darkling should have listened to the man. 

❝ And did you really expect I wouldn’t? Or were you hoping the volcra would consume me? ❞ 

Stalking towards the other man, Aleksander’s gaze narrowed. ❝ What are you doing here? ❞

Glancing past Kirigan, Reese eyed the shifting shadows warily, though he never turned his head. As the man turned to face him, he tossed the nearly empty bottle of booze he’d been carrying with him to the side, bringing his hands to fold one over top the other. It was an unmistakable gesture; he was freeing his hands up and bringing them together, in case he needed them, needed to defend himself.

“Why wouldn’t I hope for it? After what you did to Novokribirsk?”

Reese didn’t move more than a step back as he came closer, but his posture straightened, looking more like the soldier he was as his spine stiffened and his shoulders lifted. But he stayed there once he was back a step; he’d always been a little reckless, had plenty of near death experiences because of throwing himself into danger without so much as a second thought to the consequences for himself—not if something important or someone’s life was on the line.

That didn’t mean he didn’t have a healthy amount of fear for the man who could well enough split him in half if he wanted to, though. He knew better than that. Knew if this turned violent, he probably had a hair’s breadth of a chance to stop a cascade of shadows before they could get to him. A very, very small hair, at that.

“As for me?” he added with the shrug of his shoulder, head tilting to the side slightly. “I’m just passing through,” that was a lie, granted; he wasn’t about to admit that he was holed up somewhere in the city or sticking around for a while, didn’t need to make himself easier to find, for Aleksander or anyone else. He also meant to keep him talking, rather than acting, if he could. John had been good at that, good at stalling, though he had no particular end goal to where he was stalling to this time. “Surprised you haven't tried to go around it, though.”

Considering going through it didn't go so well last time, by the looks of you, he thought, but didn't say. Not that reckless.

@griim: "Why do you have a gun?" (A meme to get things some what started xD)

Gunmetal clicked in his hands as he popped the magazine out of place, pulling it free and checking the bullets in it—full, fifteen for fifteen. He slid it back into the gun, and then holstered it so he could pull out a second gun.

“Because in a few seconds, three guys are going to come through that door, and they’re not going to be very happy to see us,” he said, flipping the gun in his hand so he held it by the barrel, once he was satisfied it, too, was loaded. He held it out to her. “I trust you remember how to use this.”

Outside, rapidly approaching footsteps could be heard, slowing as they surrounded the door. There was distant mumbling from the other side as they tried to keep quiet, and Reese took his first gun out when his hands were free. Flipped the safety off, cocked it, gave her a nod as he tucked up to one side of the door.

When the door was locked in, he reached out, pushing the man’s gun offline—away from himself, and away from Gemma’s direction—before lowering his gun and blowing the man’s knee out. The guy screamed, releasing the gun as he collapsed, clutching his leg, as blood pooled around him, and John drew back to his spot beside the door. He looked up to meet her eyes, brows quirking slightly, giving her a smirk that all but said your turn.

@summonshadcw || post season 1 starter

The back alleys of Ketterdam were a long way from the ornate halls of the Little Palace, but… Reese couldn’t say he missed it, not knowing who was one of Baghra’s spies and who genuinely aligned themselves with the Darkling. He still spent his days looking over his shoulders, but with everything that had transpired, he almost felt free.

Almost; he didn’t know if they’d come looking for him with the change in leadership, or who was going to step up to Kirigan’s place, so he hid himself best he could, draped in dull blues and deep charcoals and and a ragged brown cloak, so far from the heartrender’s red kefta he almost didn’t look like the same man anymore. [ The scruff lining his previously clean shaven jawline didn’t help that. ]

Dusk was falling, but there was enough slanted pools of light pouring from the buildings to see in the alleyway, if only just. Enough for him to catch a glimpse of a face under a hood, enough to stop the old heartrender and make him turn on his heel, looking back.

His survival instincts told him to run, even before he knew if he’d seen right, that he had half a chance to get around a corner and disappear before things could go sideways. But he was stopping, already, peering back the way he came at the dark figures retreating back.

No; not retreating. Departing.

“Kirigan,” he said, loud enough to get his attention, and now that Reese was stopped, the exhaustion was more evident in his face, in the way his military posture had relaxed at the shoulders, and the dark circles beginning to underline those storm green eyes of his. “I see you survived the Fold.”