Hellfire

Sanya Vasilec | Healer

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Zhuan Liang: Inferni

Panicked. Zuhan was panicked. There were too many unfamiliar people. He’d never been good in a crowd, never had to be. He was being thrown head first into an unfamiliar situation, in clothes that weren’t even his. The masks didn’t help anything either. Too similar to the past for his liking.

His eyes frantically scanned the crowd, hoping for the single familiar face he knew would hopefully be there. He’d know Zhuliun over every lifetime, blindfolded, without fail. He just had to find Zhuliun and everything would be fine.

What a sense of déjà vu that was.

Finally. He spotted Zhuliun in the crowd and made his way over, trying to keep his panic to a minimum. At least outwardly.

“This is overwhelming,” he commented upon reaching the other.

Sanya didn’t want to be here. Balls weren’t their thing. Which is why they were currently hiding over by the food. Because food made everything better. Well, that and it was the thing furthest away from anyone else at the moment. Not that that stopped people from approaching, because again, food, but it was easier to hide when someone came too close.

It was the perfect spot. If anyone attempted to speak to them, they could pretend to be distracted by the food. Which, honestly, they usually were. It was perfect. Until someone got too close, actually spoke to them. They had to force themselves not to roll their eyes, to keep their cool.

“Can you repeat that?”

Zhuan had no idea what to do here. All of this was out of his element. Balls were something he never ha to deal with before, same with crowds of people. But! He was determined to make the best of it, even if he failed miserably. Not lighting something on fire counted as a win, right?

But, that was how he’d ended up floating around the area near the bar, trying not to fiddle with his mask. Even that was uncomfortable to him, things touching his face. Saints, maybe he couldn’t do this after all.

It was that thought that had him slipping back through the crowd before slamming into someone. 

“Sorry about that,” came the soft apology, more reflex than anything.

where: the ball, near the bar when: early in the evening who: open! @ravkastarters​

The grisha was far too sober for the number of people who were here, a point that became all the more clear as she recalled the number of grisha’s in the little palace and compared it with the crowd. Being told your whole life that you are only worth something if you are grisha will fuck up a kid, and while she’d never admit it, Daciana was far too uneasy by the inability to easily sort the guests into proper categories. This situation was veering dangerously close to feeling entirely out of her control, even though it was still early. And so, she did the only thing that helped in times like this - use her power.

The servant was unlucky enough to catch her attention, tray laden with empty glasses they were discreetly trying to remove from the ballroom - she wasn’t a monster, she’d never waste perfectly good drinks. With a sharp jab of her hand, Daciana caused the muscles in the servant’s right leg to suddenly tense which in turn sent the servant and their tray tumbling to the floor, the glasses shattering with a satisfying clatter. The heartrender smiled, and then realized she was no longer standing alone. Without quite removing the cruelty from her smile, Daciana turned her head to the newcomer.

“Your costume is incredible.”

Zhuan wasn’t sure he’d ever seen such...extravagance. If he’d been around it, it was when he was a child...before everything. Before he got locked away. It was enough to make him pause, for only a second. Then he was moving again, slipping through the crowd like a ghost. It was easy enough to dodge everyone, floating silently through the gaps in the crowd. Until he reached the bar, just in time to see Daciana’s hand move. His head tilted, slightly to the side, eyes more amused than anything. 

His clothes were borrowed, he hadn’t had much time to gain possessions. However, her words brought a genuine smile to his face. He didn’t get many compliments. See: None. That didn’t make him any less quick to return it though, despite the cruelty in her expression.

the one thing jia didn’t like about masquerades, is that some people became too confident. masks didn’t entirely cover up faces, but their egos did not seem to care. she leaned against a column, her rolling her eyes as a young grisha tried to swoon her with his abilities. she was used to this kind of attention back in life in shu-han, but here, jia felt like she deserved more. “as interesting as that offer is…” jia murmured politely, just as a handmaiden would (even though she wanted to kick him), “i am actually…” her eyes fell to the nearest person. in no time at all, she linked their arms together. “in attendance with them, so i’ll have to decline your offer.” her eyes shot to the person besides her, wondering if they could back her up or not. even if they didn’t, jia could always make a break for it and hope to get lost in the crowds of people. 

OH SO SIMILAR WERE THE FIRE AND THE HEART, in how so easily they’d let control slip away if even just a fragment of fuel would enter in their paperthin orbit, taking away from them any precious steel and ice rose to the skies as barriers against the so cruel world ! oh so similar they were, in how they’ll seek for a figment of peace and in their rampage laying waste of all that would poorly attempt at stop them –it made his hands tremble, wish for them to draw formation and extirpate air from lungs as if that would force out any hidden lie or skeevy truth ; it wouldn’t be of any use, most likely only calling onlookiers’ gaze more than it already was, he could tell and that sense of uselessness and haplessness crawling afoot to churn at baseline of his stomach, how he hated that ! 

“ you know what i mean ! ” a spark, rising in his voice in a moment of panic as he trembled, hands of his up with palms ready to press aghast throbbing temples –too much, memories would flood and ache and burn deep into skin and muscles and bone and marrow as he wished he could just disappear for once, washed away into foam like ancient saint of hopeless songs. “ the facility exploded … it exploded and even the kherguds in there went aflame, i barely survived –you better be joking. ” 

if it was a joke, a cruel jest, maybe it’ll be much easier to believe and shrug off, he was sure.

“ zhuan died in the explosion he caused that night. tell me … tell me you’re just a tailor wearing his face and sent by the shu to kill me because i know too much, and they somehow tracked me up to here. tell me anything, don’t just look at me like that ! ”

( it couldn’t be. it just couldn’t be. )

.

“Do I?” The phrase was quiet, purposely calm in the face of his panic. For one Zhuan  was the calm one, almost as if they’d switched roles. Hilarious, really. And it was enough to keep him from rolling his eyes at the next phrase.

“It did.” A snap, and Zhuan had the fire, again, in the palm of his hand. Although, it didn’t really help, because he could have been an inferni tailored, according to Zhuliu. He let a sigh slip, the first sign of actual frustration seeping in. Quickly, he had to think of something that would prove it. --Ah. Got it.

“Our cells were next to each other. It was as close as we’d gotten to eating with people again.” His tone was flat, as he allowed the information to slip. A reminder of who he really was. “This isn’t a trick. I made sure to allow two people to survive. Myself. And the only person to show me even an ounce of kindness in that place.”

BUT LIANG ZHUAN WAS DEAD. it was something meant to be undeniable as he witnessed the other’s demise with his own eyes as it burned its images in back of his mind forevermore, with how the facility exploded under inferni’s uncontrollable power as tall and roaring flames lit that dark and starless night like midnight suns rumored to lace fjerdan skies every morning under the blessing of their beloved djel, fueled and angered by those many chemicals stored in many rooms and the souls of even more innocents whose resentment dribbled from every room and wall and door –waiting that revenge, waiting for that cursed place to disappear so that they could be finally free from the haunting burdens.

so that the few who could run would run, away and away into the forests towards the innermost confines, the seas where the edges of kerch would smile right back, the mountains only for the fools to cross and where ravka would await as a purgatory for the grishas to reside within –hunted but not quite, adored but not quite.

“ … w - what ? ” words in his lips staggering as they’d mutate from ravkan to shu, just like his own whole presence was but a frail staggering, ready to fall apart like ancient salt statues. it was impossible. it just was impossible. “ how … ”

( how do you know of that place ? how did you find me ? how are you still alive ? )

.

Ah, there it was. There was the recognition. He hadn’t been forgotten after all. It sent a giddy sort of relief coursing through him. Never mind that he was the ghost haunting Zhuliu, he was remembered. He didn’t have to keep poking until the recognition appeared. He was finally no longer alone. Someone that understood what he’d been through was finally standing right in front of him. He hadn’t made it all up in his head, a fear that plagued him. 

But now he had to focus. He’d found Zhuliu, and honestly he was a bit at a loss. He’d been so obsessed with finding, that he never really stopped to think about what he’d do once he’d found. 

The shu words brought him back to the present, out of his head. He cocked his head to the side, laughing softly. “How?” He parroted back. How what? 

(Did you really think I’d be put down that easily?)

~~

The strangest part of the Little Palace was that, despite their status, the Grisha had far less freedom of movement than she had expected. It was… peculiar, really. Even with her own status as the daughter of Zackary Arkwright, Zemeni diplomat, she hadn’t experienced as much restriction as…. this.

At times, she forgot how freely she herself could move about. And… how excited she could be to meet a new face.

“Is there anything you’re looking for in particular?” Jasmine asked, curious, yet far from shy and sheepish. Perhaps that was on account of his delightfully sharp cheekbones, or his pleasant smile, or his overall enticing demeanor and apparent helplessness, but Jasmine felt a sudden need to introduce herself, or perhaps give her a tour of place that she herself was using as a hotel of sorts. “Won’t you tell me how you got lost?”

.

Having any freedom was strange to Zhuan, freedom wasn’t something he remembered ever really having. And was he truly free now? With his obsession haunting his every movement, coloring his focus? Of course not, but it was he going to show his hand that quickly? No. 

Instead, he’d pretend to delight in a new face, and use the ability to have someone help him navigate. Since he couldn’t move around the way he wished, couldn’t have that narrow minded focus for the moment. He paused, considering.

–

“And did you see it for yourself?” The stranger’s sharpness had little affect on Jasmine’s sunny disposition, nor did the stranger’s previous expression of fear and worry. The last statement – it was better off dead – was so certain to be true that Jasmine hardly registered the need to say it. In that sense, Jasmine didn’t think to consider why the other would bring that up.

“They keep saying it’s like a Volcra,” Jasmine continued. “But what did it actually look like? Was it close to human?”

.

“I did.” It was easier for Sanya to breathe now, the fear and revulsion shoved firmly back in the box it needed to be. Especially since they’d slipped and gotten emotional. Gross. Sticking to factual phrasing was easier, they could deal with their own feelings later. Or never, which was more likely.

.

A GHOST FROM THE PAST THAT WAS INDEED, whispering in the nights like humanfaced disease haunting the rooftops and carved streets of small mountain villages when dusk had fulled mutated into starlessness, calling upon the spirits of the vengeful deaths so that all together would curse those foolish ones whose hearts still beat while reeking with pride –an energy exuding like bluetinted fire ready to devour forests after forests in its crescendo, a feeling and sight zhuliu was all too familiar with.

( like that night where all he could see was debris and blood and– )

“ ah .. no, no. of course i can help. i’m actually pretty knowledgeable of the area. ” was there any composure for him to regain ? most likely, heartrender’s skilled hands trembling and fidgeting with loose edges of armored belt in order not to give in their ever growing agitation, having to force steady beat to a heart ever so ready –and able, he was quite sure of that– of leaving his own chest in a grotesque burst of ruin and panic ; cautious he needed to be, even more than he’d usually muster in his daily survival –any possibility of the person in front of him being but a fabrication of a skilled tailor or a trick of the people who have forsaken him long before ravkans had to be always taken into consideration. “ os alta’s market area is actually pretty much of a maze so i don’t blame you in the slightest for getting lost. where do you need to go ? ”

.

Zhuan kept wanting to laugh, that familiar feeling bubbling up yet again. It was the same feeling he’d felt when he realized how easy his escape plan actually was. One might call it delight? Whatever it was, it had him bouncing ever so slightly on his heels. Especially when his eyes caught the trembling of Zhuliu’s hands. But the other man hadn’t run yet, he was still trying to play the game apparently.

Oh, he was talking again, better pay attention. Zhuan just hummed at first, not needing to really respond to the first statement. Which was fine, he just needed an opening. And. There. It. Was. That one question was all he needed. “Facility thirty-four?” The return question wasn’t really a question as much as it was a trigger phrase. And the smile that accompanied it was completely unhinged. It was almost as if he was silently screaming ʀᴇᴍᴇᴍʙᴇʀ ᴍᴇ? Remember what we’ve been through? What they did? It would be pathetic if not for his obsession.

.

WHAT WAS DEAD WAS MEANT TO STAY DEAD ; it was the first thing you learn when bestowed with the corporalki’s blessings, firstmost thing zhuliu knew being a lie for he knew what laid within the depths of shu han in its screeches and clockworks, of those things that never were meant to cross that wretched border now even more so looming over intricate towers of ravka after tragedy of cursed spring fete and its khergud - esque monstrosity still fluttered ‘round like dewy mists and prayers to deaf saints –manifestation still haunting heartling’s mind like all of an unspoken past and untold truth had been, making slim figure donning reds and blacks pace and heave and walk almost aimlessly through markets and bazaars that once felt impossible to caress when a kefta was to be wrapped onto his body.

what was dead was meant to stay dead, what was caged was meant to be stay within those bars –but he’s taken a knack at escaping from them for some reason, walking along corpsewitches and like them being seen as token of nonexistent treachery.

“ what … ” and sometimes past really liked to knock at jade speck’s door when slumber was deep and yet so easy to shake up just like as easy it was for a mind to fall into the heaps of lucid sightings, a trail of dread in cold and fire still ever so subtly but painfully perceived in their cruel crossing from skin to bone –lingering in afterthoughts and aftermornings. in dreams and nightmares alike and widening crimsons. recognition merely a formality he’d rather avoid, reluctance festering in his own intestines instead like protobenzene against fire –familiar, too familiar. “ ah, sorry. were you … asking me ? ”

.

That was. Too easy, Zhuan thought. To run straight into the person he was seeking was too perfect. As was the startled, wide eyed expression Zhuliu gave him. Almost as if he’d seen a ghost. Which, Zhuan supposed was true enough. He supposed he was a ghost story these days. It was enough to make him want to laugh though.

Instead he just...stared for a moment. Waited. Until Zhuliu came back into the present.  And...Zhuan got nothing he’d hoped for. What had he actually hoped for? Instead he got questions.

Have you really forgotten? Did you really think I was gone? That this would never catch up to you? All those questions and more bubbled at his lips, but no. That wasn’t the game.  He wasn’t going to make the first move. Although he couldn’t help but pull the flint from his sleeve, slipping it between his fingers. There was the urge to be flashy, to use his abilities as a reminder. But no. Obvious would not work in his favor, he knew that. He remembered what happened the last time he tried.

Instead he smiled. “Yes. I was. But if you can’t help...”