Hi everyone! Itâs 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. Iâm looking forward to roleplay with all of you, youâre all such amazing writers and your characters look amazing. Feel free to message me on tumblr or discord, Iâll be doing the same :)
Below are some highlights of Astridâs 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.
Astrid had been lucky to have survived the unforgiving world of ice that is Fjerda, born in Halmhend to a Druskelle captain and a tidemaker. She could have been discovered at any point during childhood, more often than not, her mother had to put out the fires sheâd started-albeit accidentally-after her power began to present itself after she had turned 8. This came at great risk to her mother, as neither her husband, nor her son, Astridâs brother had ever had any inkling she was Grisha. The community, along with Astridâs father simply believed Astridâs mother was sickly, and it was already believed she had been tested, as her mother arrived at Halmhend at 15 from the Wandering Isle.
When Astrid turned 9, her mother arranged passage for her to Os Kervo in Ravka, to live with her sister, Astridâs aunt. A choice which was defended against her father by her mother, providing her sickly state as the reason, claiming to only be able to take care of one child, not two.Â
Her aunt, a widow, did not mind the burden, as she had lost her husband who had owned a blacksmith, a task which had now fallen to her. While not fully accepted by her aunt due to deeply ingrained Fjerdan teachings, Astrid was not cast aside, instead her aunt encouraged the usage of her power as an inferni inside the blacksmith.Â
While Astrid had a comfortable life, eventually she was found when she was 12 during a routine housecheck. Normally when the Grisha testers came to Os Kervo, her aunt hid her away in a cupboard. After being tested she left for the little palace, unsure whether to be happy or not about leaving her home and aunt behind.Â
While she was indifferent at first upon arrival at the little palace -mostly due to the Fjerdan teachings which had been instilled in her, and how she had always needed to keep her power a secret, hidden-she eventually grew to like it there, mostly due to Irina Petrova. They had arrived at the little palace at the same time and became best friends. Irinaâs kind nature and power was what drew Astrid to her, as it reminded her of home, of her mother.
Back home, the news of Astrid being a Grisha had reached her family in Halmhend. Her mother was punished for it, and this time, unlike at the testing, her power showed. The very next day her mother was put on trial and executed. Astrid to this day does not know how her mother died.
1 year ago, at the age of 28 Astrid went on a mission with other Grisha to the Ravkan-Shu Han border. The mission did not go well, and was considered a failure halfway through, as Shu Han operatives thwarted their mission. Astrid however could not let it go, and split from the group, following the operatives on her own. A mistake on her part. When Astrid had made camp for herself, she was grabbed from behind and rendered unconscious. She came to in a cell. An unfamiliar experience for her. During her stay she was starting to lose all sense of time when the experiments started. Every couple of days she would be taken out, and cut into. Her body held out for 3 months, until it gave in. By all appearances, she looked dead. The scientist ordered her body to be disposed of. Resulting in Astrid being hauled into a cart with other dead bodies, and dropped on the border with Ravka. Astrid did not move for at least 1 hour, unaware she was no longer in Shu Han or her cell. When it did dawn on her, she managed to crawl out from underneath the dead bodies, and started walking. Eventually she came across Grisha in Poliznaya, and was taken back to the Little Palace, back home, to recover and be healed.
While it has been a year ago, Astrid still has nightmares and comes across meaner than she did before as a defence mechanism. However, at least she no longer sets any of the rooms on fire in the Little Palace, as she had gained the habit of always carrying a flint with her to feel safer and as a precaution.
connection ideas:
-Astridâs brother; he blames Astrid for their motherâs death and destroying their family and their familyâs reputation. Heâll be coming for her one way or another.
-A grisha who has also been subject to Shu Han experiments.
-an enemy perhaps? Astrid is originally from Fjerda, a fellow Grisha could blame the actions of the druskelle on her for example.
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sunniva didnât 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 wasnât her job to look out for anyone but herself, though sunnivaâs bleeding heart made that hard.Â
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. âmy dress is fine!â she assured, gesturing for astrid to follow. âcome, let me get you another drink. are you okay, astrid?â
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, ââthatâs good to hear, the blue colour suits you by the way, itâs pretty.ââ complimenting her, a genuine smile on her face, eyes flitting down at the dress sunniva was wearing for a moment. while sheâd never admit it out loud, pretty dresses made her freak out like a total girl, and the womanâs was one of the prettier once sheâd 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. ââplease, lead the way.ââ 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. ââto 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 fĂŞte.ââ unconsciously starting to tap her index finger against her thumb. ââanyway,ââ astrid started as she let out a breath, eyes fully focusing on sunniva now, frowning in concern. ââare you okay?ââ 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 ; @ravkastartersâ
location: the masquerade
she couldnât 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. sheâd 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. sheâd 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 aliveâ 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 wouldnât heal her broken heart, but she couldnât 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. âoh, iâm so sorry! i didnât mean to⌠are you okay?â
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 sheâd 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.
with shaking hands she grabs a drink from the drinks table, hoping itâd stop the rising panic and regulate her breathing. however, the fright of someone bumping into her, making the drink slosh out of the glass does it for her. as it missed both of their dresses astrid released a breath of relief, recognition in her eyes at her words, the womanâs voice sounding somewhat familiar. ââitâs okay, really. no need to apologize, I believe you, to be honest I wasnât exactly paying attention either. apart from an empty glass, Iâm okay..I think.ââ smiling warmly at the other in understanding, assuming sheâd probably been admiring the room. ââare you? is your dress? itâd be a shame if it wasnât, itâs nice.ââÂ
astrid found it hard not to gawk at everyone with how exceptionally pretty theyâd 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 sheâd 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 sheâs standing right in front of him.
ââdance with me.ââ the words sounding more like a command than a request, in case the person he was talking to would try keep him there. to not having to win an argument with his conversation partner, astrid did not wait for the man in front of her to answer, grabbing his hand and dragging him off towards the centre of the ballroom where others could be found dancing elegantly to the music.
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. âno one truly respects that, do they? weâre all free to sit and eat with whomever we want, train and use whichever workshop we see fit. if we didnât itâd be segregation.â they pointed out, articulating the last part as if theyâd 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. âlet me be exceedingly clear now. you are no one to me. you hold no power. youâre 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.â 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 theyâd snap. usually this was something she had relatively under control, however, the attack brought it out in her again, as if sheâd never been able to leash it in the first place. ââof course they donât. if it wasnât allowed weâd have noticed by now, the little palace being one of the only places where weâre free to go and do as we please. except for the fabrikator workshop of course, locked away behind fabrikator locks.ââ glaring at the man, not appreciating being spoken to like a child.
seeing the shock on his face, astrid couldnât 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. ââyouâre right, Iâm sorry, I have no right or rank to order you around or touch you or your belongings. itâs wrong, no one should be allowed to take things or touch someone without permission, no one.ââ the apology probably being one of the most sincere ones sheâd 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. ââthatâs amazing, I had no idea, when did you learn?ââ ignoring his tone. noticing his retreat, astrid held up her hands in a defensive gesture, putting on a reassuring smile, ââitâs your scroll, you donât have to show me if you donât want to.ââ
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maksimilian could easily perceive the nervousness that flashed across the womanâs face, the unsure word that left her lips not too late after his question would have been amusing to anyone but himself âam I to answer that for you?â 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.
âI shouldnât be the one to enlighten you about the rules of little palace, you should be aware of them alreadyâ he responded easily, looking at the woman that now spoke with confidence doing her kefta justice at last âthe workshop is the worst place to meet someone, I can already tell that you want somethingâ 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 âwhat is it?â
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. ââof course not, you startled me, the hallways are usually empty. when are grisha ever lost in the little palace anyway?ââ 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.
ââI am. that doesnât mean there arenât any unspoken rules or rules that arenât shared between the grisha orders.ââ 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. ââI believe you. it isnât that obvious is it?ââ if anyone would know about the suitability of the workshop as a meeting place, itâd 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 hadnât 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. ââIâm sorry for lying, Iâve just always wanted to see how the weapons are made, especially the swords, itâs one thing to handle grisha steel, itâs another to see how itâs made. I used to make weapons myself, the otkazatâsya way.ââ 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 fabrikatorâs 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.
âlost?â 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 theyâd 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 didnât 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.
ââno..?ââ astrid replied hesitantly, not able to meet his eyes, trying to think of an excuse of why sheâd be there without seeming suspicious, however as she had nothing nefarious planned it shouldnât even matter in the first place. the little palace was open to all grisha after all. glancing at the door for a moment, she met his gaze with confidence, ââIâm meeting someone here, thatâs allowed right?ââ
collecting daggers and swords (though mostly swords). working in the blacksmith of her auntâs 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 youâll 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 sheâs 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 sheâs still alive.
13. what sort of legacy does your character wish to leave behind?
she knows she canât single handedly win the war, but astrid would like to have made some sort of impact. knowing this might be a difficult one to achieve, she instead aims to improve the lives of her friends, if anyone deserves to have a good life and to be happy, itâs her friends.
22. what is their earliest memory?
the flurry of skirts and jackets made out of wool, animal furs and skins. possibly the conclusion of a town meeting, the men and women saying their goodbyes before leaving their house.
28. which of the seven deadly sins best fits your character?
pride.
21. who is one person they would never ever want to see again? why?
her brother. does not want her memory of a friendly, caring brother who always looked out for her to be tarnished by who he is now. is afraid heâll hate her, and of losing him, even though she knows she already has.
39. what are their five main skills?
hand-to-hand combat. astrid could have slacked off, she is gifted with the small science after all, however she did not. she put in the effort and trained outside of class. she likes to believe sheâs competent enough to be able to get by if she wasnât an inferni, though this should be taken with a grain of salt, as she often overestimates herself.
small science. is quite a competent inferni. put in the effort and practiced outside of class. has an excellent level of control. used to think she was the shit, but getting captured has humbled her a bit. was a bit out of control due to the trauma of experimentation. has a tight leash on it now though.
blacksmithing. was taught how to create and shape objects out of all kinds of metal. hasnât done it in a while, is a bit rusty, but would be able to pick it up again in no time if needed.
his own snarking is met with bite and ishir wasnât 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 theyâve grown suspiciously quiet and he wonders if theyâve perhaps simply being frightened into muteness or if theyâve just lost interest in his plans altogether. he knew there was a chance his designs would be met with tepid interest but he doesnât make a habit of seeking out the higher ranked members of the second army. theyâve made a habit instead of waiting until theyâre summoned. theyâre 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 palaceâs defenses and now more than ever the order of the materialki ought to be solicited. he cannot say heâs surprised their esteemed leader has trouble thinking big picture though, year after year heâs 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.Â
the aftermath of this attack on the palace should not be any different. it never has before and so whether itâs from fear or disinterest that the two men are turning away, ishir feels slighted for it and terribly lonely. this is why i donât mingle with these people, he thinks bitterly. theyâre too foolish to care about anything that doesnât 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. âif i wanted the whole bloody etherealki order to see these scrolls, iâd have asked for a meeting! these are sketches, none of this is finalized. itâs not even worth looking at unless a general gives myself and the rest of the alkemi the go ahead.â 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. theyâd 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. âwhy all the questions? iâm fairly certain thereâs no separation between factions, we are all still free to go as we please. and iâm sorry, i know iâm being quite rude in my assumptions but most etherealki iâve met before you have enough manners not to accost someone and accuse them of imagined crimes. and then thereâs you!â he continues, gesturing to the woman with a flourish.
while sheâd noticed them before storming over, sheâd 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 theyâd been contributing much to it.
ââwerenât you just showing those scrolls to two etherealki already? clearly it is worth looking at unfinalized or you wouldnât have brought them with you.ââ 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 couldnât help but try to get a rise out of him, using his own words against him. ââyouâre wrong, the tables in the messhall, the dorms, and the training areas and workshops are separated into grisha orders and classes.ââ deliberately making eye contact as she said it, curious to see what his reaction would be. ââcouldnât agree more, but, if we are free to go as we please, arenât we also free to ask questions?ââ deflecting his question by asking him one instead. the truth was, she wasnât 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. ââare you? do they now? for your information, I do have manners.ââ sounding almost childish, anger rising. in the end it was the gesturing and the âthereâs youâ part that did it, the hand sheâd clenching into a fist shot forward, only to open at the last moment and snatch the scrolls from him instead. ââletâs have a look.ââ
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astrid likes to believe happy endings are possible but rare, and certainly not for everyone. only good people who have done good deserve them. at times astrid does not believe she herself deserves a happy ending. occasionally believing, her time being experimented on in shu han was punishment for being responsible for her mother being put to death in fjerda.
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 couldnât remember come morning. if dying of mortification was possible he was certain heâd 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 isnât 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 heâs 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 heâs 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 womanâs 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. âiâm 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,â he started, his tone dripping with sarcasm âwe do not tweedle our thumbs waiting if that is what youâre 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.â he snarked back, a smirk on his lips. he almost considered handing over the scrolls to the other woman but didnât, with their handwriting she could hardly be faulted for not understanding a word of it and they werenât 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 couldnât do anything about, angry that the little palaceâs 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 sheâd gotten injured. yet she knew it wasnât 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.Â
thinking for a second how to respond to that, she couldnât help but reply just as sarcastically as he had her, wondering if he was the one assuming things now. ââyes, I think you materialki sit on your ass all day, secluded away in that hovel you call a basement. no, of course I donât think that, besides, the darkling would never allow it, especially not now.ââ at his words, her eyes left the manâs face for a moment and landed on the scrolls curious what he had been working on, feeling foolish she hadnât 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. ââyou do know that by assuming Iâm assuming things about materialki, youâre assuming things about etherealki yourself?ââ not waiting for an answer, her attention went back to the scrolls, ââyes, I do, please show me what youâre working on. well, we wonât know until we try, wonât we? maybe Iâll surprise you, I used to work as a blacksmith after all.ââ she answered him with a sweet smile, keeping herself with effort from snatching the scrolls from him already. ââIâm astrid by the way.ââ
lelyahâs 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 otherâs hands. âitâs already ruined anyway, whatâs more blood?â her own had dripped into the black fabric and she was sure it wasnât the only kind. âsaints,â 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 sheâd be up in flames. wouldnât that be a sight? âthe healers are busy, weâll sweep the rooms.â 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.
she couldnât help but be shocked at the otherâs offer to wipe her hands clean of blood on her skirt, the inferni kaptain of all people. however, it wasnât the strangest thing that had happened today, and astrid was convinced it wouldnât be the last. ââif youâre sure, itâs not like theyâre keeping spare clothes around here, or keftas, I would kill for a kefta right now.ââ already wiping her hands on her skirt, which made the making sure that lelyah was sure about it, kind of useless. too preoccupied with imagining all the ways those above them were suffering right now as they were talking. thinking about the plan next, astrid looked at lelyahâs wound again before answering. ââin that case, we better make sure weâre in and out before the volcra find us, taking as many people back here as we can, letâs go.ââ astrid stood up from her position on the floor and reached for the door, only to turn around for a second to give her kaptain a sad smile. ââitâs a shame about the dress, it was nice.ââ
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 didnât do enough of-she strode towards him until she was right up into his face, interrupting ishir mid-conversation. ââare 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 didnât do your job.ââ making assumptions, rather than simply asking if heâd finished the order or not. misplaced anger, definitely. did he deserve it? definitely not.
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âwe canât ignore it.â lelyahâs voice drifted out, standing near the door the basement as she fought every urge to leave. to fight the beast that threatened the home sheâd 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. âthere has to be something we can do.â 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.
when astrid had entered the basement the first thing sheâd done was sit down in the first spot sheâd landed her eyes on. since then all sheâd been able to do was stare at her own hands, hands covered in someone elseâs blood. lelyahâs voice broke her out of it, and made her look up at the inferni captain who she happened to have been sitting next to. ââso we donât, we make a plan, Iâll back you.ââ astrid responded, finding her voice. next her eyes landed on the gash on lelyahâs forearm, wondering with a frown if she was aware of it. ââwe could sweep each of the rooms, looking for injured and survivors. unless youâd rather fight the volcra head on, if thatâs the case youâd better get a healer to look at that first, as youâre going to need both arms.ââ the opportunity of doing something about the chaos above making astrid forget to hold her tongue with the captain.
NADIA  HUFFED  in  annoyance  as  she  felt  Astrid  start  resisting  the  pressure  she  was  holding  against  her  wound.  âLook  Iâm  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,â  she  said  indignantly  pushing  her  hand  against  the  makeshift  binding  sheâd  made  to  hold  the  other  together  until  they  could  be  seen  by  a  healer.  âWhat,  you  think  just  because  youâre  wounded  Iâd  let  you  have  all  the  fun?â Â
while when sheâd first come to sheâd pushed nadiaâs 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. ââtrainings and battles will do that to you. clearly you have skill enough though nadia, or Iâd be much worse off than I am now.ââ she complimented her, looking down at nadiaâs makeshift binding. her next words making it clear to astrid theyâd 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. ââof course not. but, with this you wonât have to worry about me and we can both go have some fun, Iâm not letting you take mine.ââÂ