d. kostyk

she rests her hands on her hips and pulls away, offering him some space, ❝ i don't usually ask this but ... you're not a regular. wanna talk about what happened ? ❞

he'd gotten separated from the rest of the group. david was starting to curse agreeing to go on this little… adventure… to begin with. they had word that people were selling some of their designs on the black market. and david seeing the specs himself first hand would be a lot quicker than someone coming here, finding them, and coming back home. he knows he can’t give away too much. but david also felt utterly helpless on his own. ❝ it would appear I got separated from my friends and someone took that as a sign to attack. ❞

she turns one corner and then another, easily as breathing - - - a familiar route, one she can walk without much thought. just an aiming of her feet, one step before another. she's quiet as she slips in through the door - - david's presence is often enough to soothe her, and she does not want to disturb him from whatever he is working on. it works today - - to a point. long enough for her to find a moment when she thinks she will not truly disrupt him, a natural pause somewhere along the way. "what do you think the possibility is," she asks, inspecting a lock of her own hair as she twists it around her finger, "that zoya is planning to kill us in our sleep and become a triumvirate all of her own?"

so the fact the triumvirate existed, meant that his order was viewed as an equal. one part of a third. no longer the extra piece no one knew what to do with. but what david didn’t like were all the meetings and politics that went along with being in the triumvirate. he’d much rather be sitting in his workshop or exploring the new opportunity to work with otkazat'sya. like clockwork david started to pull away from his work. the desire to brew a cup of tea washing over him. he raises an eyebrow at genya’s question. ❝ I would hope we would get bribed to leave instead of murdered. but I wouldn’t be surprised if she already has several plans laid out in scary detail. why? she threaten to murder you? ❞ there’s a protective edge to his voice. he might fear zoya down to his bones. but he’d be damned if he sat back and let her hurt genya.

"I need your help with two things, actually. I'm planning the construction of a dock in the lake for... Ah, hold that thought. Let me start over." Reaching into the inner pocket of his coat, he extracts a folded stack of papers, handing them out to David. "A few ideas for new airships. My last one had a bit of a rough landing after traversing the Fold. I could use your help building a new one or two or three." Some part of him wonders if Kostyk might outright refuse. He has his own projects, after all, and it isn't typical for otkazat'sya and Grisha to work together on such things. At least not here in Os Alta. "In return, I offer my help on the Sun Summoner's amplification discs."

he takes the papers with excitement. rumors had flown for a long time about the genius mind of the second prince. and he had opportunities that david didn’t to sit in classrooms and study with great engineer minds beyond just the small sciences. all david could do was read books about the powerful engines and hydrolytics. his eyes search the papers and he forgets that he’s expected to reply. ❝ yes I’ll help, ❞ he says unable to hide the excitement in his voice. david was never good at playing it cool. though it quickly sours as he remembers the looming threat. ❝ we can use all the help we can get with the discs. it’s difficult working with a ticking clock when you can’t even see the number counting down. ❞

vasily doesn't push him, since he was also up well into the night and should... also be sleeping. so who was he to judge that david was still awake? " couldn't sleep and decided to go on a little walk," is all he says. that wasn't even the half of it, but he wouldn't bore him with the details of his nightmares. he takes a peak at what he's working on, understanding nothing, of course. but he was impressed, nonetheless. then again, in terms of what david could go, nothing was less than impressive. even if vasily understood... none of it. " what are you working on? " a pause. " please try to explain it like i'm a child. " otherwise, it would go right over his head.

HE PAUSES. david had never been one to call other people out. to him there was rarely a benefit and usually when the rare occurrence came it was because he simply… forgot to filter himself and the words just came tumbling out of him. ❝ usually when people can’t sleep they don’t wander into the workshop. unless you’re nikolai… or me. ❞ a brief pause before stating. ❝ so I guess my statement is actually not completely true. ❞ he raises his eyebrows at the other surprised by his interest and the request. ❝ should I be insulted? are you asking me to explain what I’m doing so that you feel sleepy? ❞ david asks, his own lack of sleeping causing him to become much more bold with his words during the dead of night.

Judging by the look of concern on David's features, he's realizing that he must truly look horrendous. "I'm fine. Don't worry about me. I'll be fine."

he looks at him. the look of concern not budging from his face despite the fact that nikolai had successfully derailed his thoughts for a moment. ❝ you do not look fine. you look worse than me. ❞

it is an interesting concept for the wraith : freedom. the gain of it, the loss of it. inej has had it stolen from her, the promise of it dangling on a precipice. she has learned many things from it ------ that she would, and could kill. that she would fight. that she would live, hungry. hungry for it. inej does not know if he is the same. if anyone, ever, is the same. the thought is a little bit frightening. ❛  what --------- is your freedom, to you ?   ❜

Nikolai looks between David and the pot and then makes a face. "If we don't have a pot, we can't attempt to make any more pasta tonight." He blinks, his brow furrowing. "But I'll just buy another pot, it's fine. Get your coat. Let's go get some Italian."

HE NODS. it does make logical sense. if they threw out the pot then they would have no way to attempt to make pasta. though then his best friend flips the logic to one david finds much more… manageable. while he may be stubborn and hate giving up.  he decided the pasta could win this round. ❝ yes, yes, I like that idea much better. is it really that cold out that I need a coat? ❞