Astrid Syvertsen

Hi everyone! It’s merel. I got introduced to this world by the tv-series, and of course right after I was done for, and got and read the first book. I’m looking forward to roleplay with all of you, you’re all such amazing writers and your characters look amazing. Feel free to message me on tumblr or discord, I’ll be doing the same :)

Below are some highlights of Astrid’s life so far.

[ Astrid Syvertsen ], an [ twenty nine ] year old grisha in the little palace. she is an [ inferni ] and are known in the little palace as the [ spitfire ]. they are known to be [ reliable ] and [ reckless ] and vaguely resemble [ rose leslie ]. ( merel, 24, she/her, gmt+2 ). wc: Irina Petrova best friend wc.

tw torture, death, dead bodies.

sunniva didn’t know if the other girl knew who she was, but sunni had definitely noticed her. maybe it was because she was used to noticing the other grisha, keeping an eye on everyone from a distance. it wasn’t her job to look out for anyone but herself, though sunniva’s bleeding heart made that hard. 

astrid seemed excessively nervous, or just overwhelmed, and sunniva instantly felt bad for her. of course, through instinct, she mirrored the sweet smile that the redhead gave her. “my dress is fine!” she assured, gesturing for astrid to follow. “come, let me get you another drink. are you okay, astrid?”

focusing on someone other than herself, interacting with them, helped. it stopped the nagging voice that would appear in the back of her head when she was like this, when she had finished with a chosen action, such as finish a glass, the what now? almost inevitably followed.

she released a breath in relief, ‘’that’s good to hear, the blue colour suits you by the way, it’s pretty.’’ complimenting her, a genuine smile on her face, eyes flitting down at the dress sunniva was wearing for a moment. while she’d never admit it out loud, pretty dresses made her freak out like a total girl, and the woman’s was one of the prettier once she’d seen tonight.

while annoyed at not being able to recognise them by their face, the more the other talked, the more familiar the voice was starting to sound, until it finally clicked. ‘’please, lead the way.’’ astrid agreed, following sunniva to the drinks. not one to beat around the bush, but glad they were talking as they walked, worried her face might give away to much, she answered. ‘’to be honest with you, not really. yes this is the ballroom and not the messhall, and the decorations are different, but the rest is not, it brought up memories of being attacked at the fête.’’ unconsciously starting to tap her index finger against her thumb. ‘’anyway,’’ astrid started as she let out a breath, eyes fully focusing on sunniva now, frowning in concern. ‘’are you okay?’’ wondering how she was doing, considering sunniva always seemed to be taking care of everyone else, thinking it was not something the other was asked often enough.

OPEN STARTER ; @ravkastarters​ location: the masquerade

she couldn’t help but look around in awe at everything as she walked up the steps and into the main party. it was crazy how far she had come from just a decade ago. she’d gone from losing the most important person in her life, which lead to being in the lowest point in her life. and yet here she was, wearing a lavish blue dress in the little palace at a ball. she’d be lying if she said she was completely happy, because saints would she kill to have her son there with her.

it was hard not to think of what could have been had matvey stayed alive– could he have been a grisha, as she had? would they stay in the little palace together? all these what ifs and she knew it wouldn’t heal her broken heart, but she couldn’t help it nonetheless.

sunniva simply walked through the crowd, clearly not watching where she was going as she bumped into someone with force. luckily the drink they were holding just missed both of their attires, otherwise the night would have taken a turn and it had just started. “oh, i’m so sorry! i didn’t mean to… are you okay?”

the plan had been to enjoy the ball, have a break from the constant training the etherealki had been subjected to since the attack. training that left her tired to the bone, causing astrid to spent the remaining hours not reserved for training fast asleep in her bed.

a plan that instantly fell apart the second she’d entered the crowded ballroom, the flashing of fabric of elegantly dressed individuals left and right robbing the air from her lungs, the screaming and the tearing of her own flesh coming to the front of her mind.

astrid found it hard not to gawk at everyone with how exceptionally pretty they’d decided to dress themselves. finished gawking, the only issue now was being able to recognise anyone she knew, the mask covered faces complicating matters as their face would be the only thing she’d be able to recognise, not having had the time with training and sleeping to learn which costumes others were going to wear. giving up, astrid happened to overhear a particularly boring conversation to her right, curiosity piqued as to why they were still talking. looking their way she noticed the man in the extravagant purple outfit was either struggling or stuck in the conversation. feeling sympathy for the situation he was in, there was only one thing left to do, help him out of it. the sudden urge to help making her step forward until she’s standing right in front of him.

ishir was not one for confrontation, he could be argumentative when the occasion called for it and if properly motivated but when faced with question after question, his usual tactic was to retreat. especially when met with unbridled aggression. to them the simple truth of the matter was that the red headed harpy before him was acting no better than an entitled child, waltzing in here and interrupting his conversation so rudely, making demands. the only part of her speech they felt compelled to argue against was her assertion about classes. “no one truly respects that, do they? we’re all free to sit and eat with whomever we want, train and use whichever workshop we see fit. if we didn’t it’d be segregation.” they pointed out, articulating the last part as if they’d been speaking to a child.

when astrid reached forth to take the scroll from them, shock crossed across their features but they were quick to snatch the scrolls back with perhaps a tad too much force behind their movements. “let me be exceedingly clear now. you are no one to me. you hold no power. you’re no corporalki, no general and you do not get to order me around and touch my belongings. next time you presume to touch me without my permission i would think twice. rest assured us durast do receive sufficient enough training to defend ourselves against attacks from pathetic little bullies.” he spit out, stepping two, three steps away from the red headed woman, arm crossed protectively over his chest.

this was the turning point of her straightforwardness and honesty, the other side of the coin if you will, demanding the truth from others instead of asking, provoking them, pushing and prodding until they’d snap. usually this was something she had relatively under control, however, the attack brought it out in her again, as if she’d never been able to leash it in the first place. ‘’of course they don’t. if it wasn’t allowed we’d have noticed by now, the little palace being one of the only places where we’re free to go and do as we please. except for the fabrikator workshop of course, locked away behind fabrikator locks.’’ glaring at the man, not appreciating being spoken to like a child.

seeing the shock on his face, astrid couldn’t help but stumble a bit as ishir snatched them back with force, regaining her balance barely. as it was starting to sink in that a line had been crossed, she made no effort to hide the shock, regret and shame that his stinging words brought out, deserving them. ‘’you’re right, I’m sorry, I have no right or rank to order you around or touch you or your belongings. it’s wrong, no one should be allowed to take things or touch someone without permission, no one.’’ the apology probably being one of the most sincere ones she’d ever given, other peoples limits and boundaries were important and needed to be respected. knowing full well what it was like to lose autonomy over both in shu han. ‘’that’s amazing, I had no idea, when did you learn?’’ ignoring his tone. noticing his retreat, astrid held up her hands in a defensive gesture, putting on a reassuring smile, ‘’it’s your scroll, you don’t have to show me if you don’t want to.’’

maksimilian could easily perceive the nervousness that flashed across the woman’s face, the unsure word that left her lips not too late after his question would have been amusing to anyone but himself “am I to answer that for you?” his gaze was harsh as if trying to understand what had brought an inferni to the workshop, it was not usual for grisha to come here themselves unless both parts had received specific orders.

“I shouldn’t be the one to enlighten you about the rules of little palace, you should be aware of them already” he responded easily, looking at the woman that now spoke with confidence doing her kefta justice at last “the workshop is the worst place to meet someone, I can already tell that you want something” there was only one reason some other grisha would come here and he had yet to decide which one pissed him off more: dishonesty or the fact that everyone always wanted something from them without ever giving it the proper value. Maksimilian leaned against the wall, pausing for a second “what is it?”

all hesitancy and nervousness was gone instantly at his words. in an attempt to try to understand him better, to figure out which tone to use to gain access to the workshop, astrid squinted her eyes at him, assessing the man. just as she was about to give a kind answer to his question, his harsh gaze made her change her mind. ‘’of course not, you startled me, the hallways are usually empty. when are grisha ever lost in the little palace anyway?’’ she replied defensively, crossing her arms over each other, not able to hide how surprised she was about the way the other responded, although the proximity to the fabrikator workshop could have something to do with that.

‘‘I am. that doesn’t mean there aren’t any unspoken rules or rules that aren’t shared between the grisha orders.’‘ she said with respect for the other and his grisha order, looking down at the grey cuffs of his kefta noting him as a durast, well aware that some at the little palace did not think highly of the fabrikators, or treated them with the respect they deserved. ‘’I believe you. it isn’t that obvious is it?’‘ if anyone would know about the suitability of the workshop as a meeting place, it’d be materialki, considering it was theirs in the first place. in hindsight not the best excuse she could have chosen. uncrossing her arms, astrid scratched at her elbow thoughtfully, considering whether to be honest or not. seeing as she hadn’t been very successful of late in her dishonest attempts to enter the workshop, she decided to be honest, something which suited better in the first place. ‘’I’m sorry for lying, I’ve just always wanted to see how the weapons are made, especially the swords, it’s one thing to handle grisha steel, it’s another to see how it’s made. I used to make weapons myself, the otkazat’sya way.’’ making eye contact once more, excitement clear in her voice.

sunlight came through the high windows, the hall was mostly devoid of anyone when maksimilian first decided to leave the workshop for a quick smoke. the fabrikators were busy, each one with different inventions, some worked in groups and suddenly everything just felt a little bit too much, too much noise and too many people freaking out inside of the same room.

there was a half-rolled cigarette in between the fabrikator’s fingers, its exact contents unknown as he finally sealed the outside. he was more advanced than others in his own creations and the past hour had passed with him just trying to help everyone else in the room, listening to their concerns and ideas which obviously lead to a very irritating headache.

but, it did not seem that the light eyed man was about to have a break anytime soon, his fingers reached out for the stick in between his lips before pulling it away stuffing it in one of his pockets as he watched this other person approach the doors to the workshop.

his face was devoid of any expression and if anything could have been extracted from his face alone, it would probably only be boredom, however one things was true no other grisha usually had any interest in what was going on inside of that particular room and when they did, nothing good came out of it, so maksimilian took precautions just right when their hand reached for the door.

“lost?” he knew that most grisha and others who worked at little palace were well familiarized with the environment and thus knew everything and everyone was supposed to go, it was unlikely that they were lost, but there was hope that they would think twice and turn around before bothering the other fabrikators.

while not the most honorable way of going about it, astrid had decided to take advantage of the new situation replacing the old as a result of the attack. there had been an increase in work, the change likely causing chaos and disorganization, therefore making it the perfect opportunity to have a look in the fabrikator workshop. curious about the weapons they’d been making.

approaching as if she belonged and was meant to be there, her step faltered as she saw him standing outside the workshop, blocking her path, the purple color of his kefta betraying him as a fabrikator making her heart sink just a bit. most materialki didn’t seem to like other grisha poking around their workshop, she was curious to find out if the man in front of her shared that opinion.

5. what are their hobbies?

collecting daggers and swords (though mostly swords). working in the blacksmith of her aunt’s weapons were a rare request. however, when they were requested, astrid put more effort in than she did with other jobs. while grisha are mostly taught to rely on the small science, occasionally you’ll find astrid messing around with a sword. the collection is small, counting only 5, 3 swords and 2 daggers, though that number is more for practical reasons, keeping them hidden in her room.

knitting. learned how to knit from her mother, a skill passed down from mother to daughter. knits something from time to time, to honour her mother, the only moment astrid allows herself to think of her.

9. what odd habits or ticks do they have?

whenever astrid gets anxious, nervous, or stressed she starts fidgeting with her fingers. mostly tapping her index finger against her thumb, or tapping her four fingers against her thumb in a repetitive sequence. it is a habit she’s picked up when she was experimented on in shu han. counting the number of fingers she has on one hand, and counting in general as a technique to ground her in reality, to convince her she’s still alive.

his own snarking is met with bite and ishir wasn’t expecting anything less from the woman considering how she had barged in on them and the two etherealki soldiers flanked by their side. ishir cannot help but noticed how they’ve grown suspiciously quiet and he wonders if they’ve perhaps simply being frightened into muteness or if they’ve just lost interest in his plans altogether. he knew there was a chance his designs would be met with tepid interest but he doesn’t make a habit of seeking out the higher ranked members of the second army. they’ve made a habit instead of waiting until they’re summoned. they’re not surprised that the effort is focused on rebuilding but they have a few concerns over safety. clearly if this last attack had been so devastating something was lacking in the palace’s defenses and now more than ever the order of the materialki ought to be solicited. he cannot say he’s surprised their esteemed leader has trouble thinking big picture though, year after year he’s watched the likes of the woman before him stroll into his workshop making last minute demands for modifications, inventions and improvements with little regard for the mechanics of it all. 

the aftermath of this attack on the palace should not be any different. it never has before and so whether it’s from fear or disinterest that the two men are turning away, ishir feels slighted for it and terribly lonely. this is why i don’t mingle with these people, he thinks bitterly. they’re too foolish to care about anything that doesn’t come as easy as the snap of a finger. whatever remained of the smile on their face fades the more the red haired woman speaks and he shakes his head in the negative forcefully before she has even finished her sentence. “if i wanted the whole bloody etherealki order to see these scrolls, i’d have asked for a meeting! these are sketches, none of this is finalized. it’s not even worth looking at unless a general gives myself and the rest of the alkemi the go ahead.” his tone is curt and the smile he forces is a pale imitation of his usually genuine one. they could blame their rudeness on the headache they feel coming but truthfully they regret coming here. they’d only been wanting to make themself useful somehow but as always when around soldiers, their insecurities get the better of them and they only feel small and like the butt of some joke. “why all the questions? i’m fairly certain there’s no separation between factions, we are all still free to go as we please. and i’m sorry, i know i’m being quite rude in my assumptions but most etherealki i’ve met before you have enough manners not to accost someone and accuse them of imagined crimes. and then there’s you!” he continues, gesturing to the woman with a flourish.

while she’d noticed them before storming over, she’d forgotten about the other two men ishir had been talking to as they were arguing. until now, astrid being stunned into silence for a moment as the two retreated. a wise choice. she liked to think they were at least. after an attack like this, it made all the sense in the world that not everyone would have the stomach for any more conflict, especially the unecessary kind. unless the two etherealki had other reasons to leave the conversation, not that they’d been contributing much to it.

‘‘weren’t you just showing those scrolls to two etherealki already? clearly it is worth looking at unfinalized or you wouldn’t have brought them with you.’‘  attempting to mess with him, only to genuinely mean the second part, smiling at him as she said it. thinking about his words, astrid frowns at the man in front of her, did he really think so lowly of his own work? no matter the craft, a craftsman should be proud of their work, even the sketches. almost forgetting they had been arguing in the first place. or fighting. starting to realize that trying to have a conversation when one was angry was a bad idea. although it would probably make things worse, astrid couldn’t help but try to get a rise out of him, using his own words against him. ‘‘you’re wrong, the tables in the messhall, the dorms, and the training areas and workshops are separated into grisha orders and classes.’‘ deliberately making eye contact as she said it, curious to see what his reaction would be. ‘‘couldn’t agree more, but, if we are free to go as we please, aren’t we also free to ask questions?’‘ deflecting his question by asking him one instead. the truth was, she wasn’t sure why she was asking him lots of questions, maybe because it distracted from having to think about the attack or the aftermath, or the anger she felt. a tactic that was clearly not working. ‘‘are you? do they now? for your information, I do have manners.’‘ sounding almost childish, anger rising. in the end it was the gesturing and the ‘there’s you’ part that did it, the hand she’d clenching into a fist shot forward, only to open at the last moment and snatch the scrolls from him instead. ‘‘let’s have a look.’‘

strolls to the garden were hardly a way to pass the time that ishir favored. flowers were only captivating for so long and with his attention span they tended to feel the itch to move fairly quickly. drunken promenades in the dead of night were another story altogether although they had often ended in encounters ishir was glad they couldn’t remember come morning. if dying of mortification was possible he was certain he’d had died a hundred times over by now. for once they are up bright and early today and have made their way to the gardens once more, carrying with them scrolls. new ideas, innovations. they always come to ishir during slumber and it isn’t unusual for him to wake up in a frenzy and get to work, producing prototypes. today he only has vague sketches for the keftas.

 somehow they have to make the damned things so resistant. for the ones that see combat at the very least. just as they are discussing with two etherealki soldiers, a red haired woman he thinks he’s seen before in the palace but cannot remember the name of strides towards him, focusing all her anger and agitation on ishir. for one agonizing second he fully believes he’s done something to draw such ire, something he cannot remember in the present. a drunken encounter gone terribly awry perhaps?

but the second passes and she speaks and he simply laughs. one short burst of laughter, more of a cough than anything. stifled just as he catches the hardness in the woman’s blue hues. the scolding is just funny to his mind. hilarious. that whoever this girl is she would choose today of all days to lash out as if the attack only affected those on the front lines. “i’m not sure what you think alkemi and durasts do when you lot go off to battle all the dark things that go bump in the night but i assure you,” he started, his tone dripping with sarcasm “we do not tweedle our thumbs waiting if that is what you’re implying. or perhaps you simply assumed we make a habit of carrying scrolls with us for pleasure? care to take a look at what it is i carried here for your etherealki friends? that is if you can decipher it.” he snarked back, a smirk on his lips. he almost considered handing over the scrolls to the other woman but didn’t, with their handwriting she could hardly be faulted for not understanding a word of it and they weren’t one for low blows.

at the sound of his laughter, astrid had to push down the urge, hard, to do something more rash than yell at the man in front of her, pressing her nails in the palm of her hand as she made a fist. her issue at the moment was that she was angry, something she couldn’t do anything about, angry that the little palace’s defences had not been good enough, angry that they had all been enjoying a party instead of squashing the threats that had no intention of going away any time soon, but most of all, angry at herself for being too drunk to react to the threat in the first place, followed by being a burden after she’d gotten injured. yet she knew it wasn’t fair of her to accuse the other, many had been affected by the attack, even those who had not been injured. and many more were in mourning. 

thinking for a second how to respond to that, she couldn’t help but reply just as sarcastically as he had her, wondering if he was the one assuming things now. ‘’yes, I think you materialki sit on your ass all day, secluded away in that hovel you call a basement. no, of course I don’t think that, besides, the darkling would never allow it, especially not now.’’ at his words, her eyes left the man’s face for a moment and landed on the scrolls curious what he had been working on, feeling foolish she hadn’t spotted the scrolls under his arm before accusing him. before answering whether she wanted to see what he was working on or not, she looked back up at him as she realized something, raising an eyebrow at the man. ‘’you do know that by assuming I’m assuming things about materialki, you’re assuming things about etherealki yourself?’’ not waiting for an answer, her attention went back to the scrolls, ‘’yes, I do, please show me what you’re working on. well, we won’t know until we try, won’t we? maybe I’ll surprise you, I used to work as a blacksmith after all.’’ she answered him with a sweet smile, keeping herself with effort from snatching the scrolls from him already. ‘’I’m astrid by the way.’’

lelyah’s eyes drifted to her fellow inferni, taking in every detail of the other woman. a soft sigh slid from her lips, and she offered up her singed skirt to dry the other’s hands. “it’s already ruined anyway, what’s more blood?” her own had dripped into the black fabric and she was sure it wasn’t the only kind. “saints,” she cussed, angry at everything right down to the very dress she wore that made casting fire nearly impossible. it was ruined anyway, but anything else and she’d be up in flames. wouldn’t that be a sight? “the healers are busy, we’ll sweep the rooms.” because astrid was right, lelyah was useless. and that fact alone haunted her to ver very bone, igniting a different kind of fire inside of her soul.

while having been reluctant to do so, astrid took a break from training for a moment, her injury from the attack not quite as healed as she had hoped it would be. joining the other etherealki who had decided to take a break or had been forced to in the upper part of the garden, astrid admired the trees and roses for a moment until her eyes landed on ishir who was talking to a group of etherealki. a sudden rush of anger flooded through her, and without thinking-something she didn’t do enough of-she strode towards him until she was right up into his face, interrupting ishir mid-conversation. ‘’are you seriously socializing before finishing the order command has given you? or do you not care if your fellow grisha die during the next attack because you didn’t do your job.’’ making assumptions, rather than simply asking if he’d finished the order or not. misplaced anger, definitely. did he deserve it? definitely not.

“we can’t ignore it.” lelyah’s voice drifted out, standing near the door the basement as she fought every urge to leave. to fight the beast that threatened the home she’d built. the beast that was taking too many lives and injuring countless more. her own arm was hurt, a deep gash on her left forearm where the volcra had tried to carry her off. “there has to be something we can do.” her voice threatened to break, but the kaptain refused. she had to seem calm, she had to be brave for the people terrified. but she wanted to save more people, and defeat the beast that loomed above.

NADIA  HUFFED  in  annoyance  as  she  felt  Astrid  start  resisting  the  pressure  she  was  holding  against  her  wound.  “Look  I’m  not  going  to  pretend  to  have  any  skill  for  healing  but  I  have  been  through  enough  training  and  battles  to  know  that  you  need  to  keep  pressure  on  that  wound  until  you  can  find  someone  who  can  heal  it,”  she  said  indignantly  pushing  her  hand  against  the  makeshift  binding  she’d  made  to  hold  the  other  together  until  they  could  be  seen  by  a  healer.  “What,  you  think  just  because  you’re  wounded  I’d  let  you  have  all  the  fun?”  

while when she’d first come to she’d pushed nadia’s hands away and off of her wound, now she let the other keep pressure on the wound, looking up at her fellow inferni before answering, fighting the urge to snap something back as the pain demanded her to. ‘’trainings and battles will do that to you. clearly you have skill enough though nadia, or I’d be much worse off than I am now.’’ she complimented her, looking down at nadia’s makeshift binding. her next words making it clear to astrid they’d have to move eventually, she pulled up the part of her dress that had been trailing the ground, ripping the fabric while trying to mind her wound, showing the large piece to nadia after, grinning as she did. ‘’of course not. but, with this you won’t have to worry about me and we can both go have some fun, I’m not letting you take mine.’’