SOME PEOPLE ARE STARS. they burn and they shine and they ( t w i n k l e , ) so that we might look UP in your bleakest nights and find something BRIGHT to look at.
POLINA TIKHONOVA. tidemaker. twenty-two.
CIRINA KIR-KHASAR. noblewoman. twenty-eight.
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" WHY AM I ALWAYS LATE TO EVERYTHING ? " on a normal day, it would have been just a regular jab at her own tardiness, but polina was never the kind of person who knew how to read a room. she was a skilled tidemaker, yes, but perhaps all the time she spent behind the walls in the little palace, studying up on the theories of the small science and grisha history, had given less time for her to practice her tactfulness.
while polina was never as ... aware as one should be, her statement was true. she had been late to the fête, her regiment of grisha blocked by some kind of local festival in some town just west of adena. they had arrived the afternoon after the fête, greeted by the aftershocks of the chaos that had happened before.
" nobody's telling me anything fully, " she says, tossing her golden hair over her shoulder, " i've been completely in the dark since i arrived at the little palace — please say you know what happened. "
The danger, Jacob felt, had long dissipated once the creature was declared dead and a handful of Grisha were selected to study its corpse. Perhaps it was a foolish assumption. Perhaps Jacob simply wanted any reason to leave the Little Palace after having completed his work for the day, and while he could do a bit of training today, he thought there was no harm in putting it off for tomorrow. So, he ditched his kefta and convinced paid off a tailor to alter his appearance. From the perspective of the Little Palace guards, he was merely a servant completing his day of work.
It didn’t take long for the tailor’s work to wear off, but by that point, Jacob was far enough from the Little Palace to not care.
“Eyyy,” Jacob said, smiling and giving his signature hand signal, which, while completely innocuous, had the effect of making a stack of goods fall behind the person he greeted. “I can’t tell if I recognize you or not. Not that it matters when I’m in the mood to chat.”
Did it matter? Potentially, but he was in good enough spirits to want to talk with anyone, no matter their ability.
POLINA HAD NO REASON TO BE OUTSIDE OF THE LITTLE PALACE aside from her own desire to escape the place, at least for a short while. with everyone fussing over the events at the fête, it was easy enough to sneak off, through a secret path an older etherealki had told her about, one that bypassed the guards and all.
really, she just wanted to stop by the market to purchase some pirozhskis — she'd longed for them during the weeks her regiment was assigned to a town near the unsea, and now that she's returned, she didn't want to waste another minute without the ravkan puff pastries in her hands.
now, with a pirozhski in her hand ( and admittedly, a few extras stuffed into the pockets of her trousers — she had left her blue tidemaker kefta in her room to avoid being recognized ), polina's more than prepared to trek all the way back to the little palace. however, a sudden greeting and an even more sudden crash behind her, stops her in her tracks.
" that's all right, i don't recognize you either. " she responds with a curt nod. there wasn't any malice to her words ; she was simply telling the truth. " i apologize, i'm not that good with memorizing faces. "
“Hmm.” It wasn’t often that Jasmine could take her meal outside her assigned quarters, nor was it considered the most sound decision after the tragedy at the most recent Fete, but Jasmine was easily prone to listlessness. So, naturally, she had thought to come outside. If a poor soul was wrapped in conversation with her, so be it.
“What do you suppose that thing was?” Jasmine asked. “I’ve heard that it’s not quite a Volcra, and anyone who tells me it is–” Jasmine held up one finger, out of pretend defiance. “–is probably lying.”
FROM THE MOMENT SHE HAD STEPPED FOOT IN OS ALTA, cirina quickly realized that gossip travelled around fast, so it wasn't much a surprise to her that she finds herself with various accounts of the events at the little palace's springe fête the following morning.
" hm, i'm not quite sure. " she hadn't been at the fête, and she had thanked the saints for the slight cold she had gotten that night that had barred her from attending. " i've heard multiple accounts, of course, though i doubt any of them are trustworthy, either. one of my maids said it was a wild boar, for saints' sake! "
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after the attack, lidiya’s resources and supplies were extremely low. it made her sad to think about all of her creations that were torn apart thanks to that horrible creature. now her shop was left in disarray and she craved new inspiration. lidiya walked with her hands in front of her, eyes too wide to do anything. growing up in a small farming village, she never had experienced a bustling town such as this.
“hm?” she asked before nodding her head. “oh i’d be happy to join you! i am in dire need of silks and linens,” lidiya responded, softly. she nodded her head. “i find that shopping for yourself is very personal,” she added as an afterthought. “i’m not very good at haggling, but i’ll definitely try.”
IF ONE HAD TOLD YOUNGER CIRINA, the cirina who had just been dropped off at khasar yul-altan's orphanage, that she'd be traipsing around the ravkan capital with a practically non-existent shopping budget, she would have laughed at their face. still, this was the life she lived now, and no disaster at some spring fête was going to keep her spirits down.
" then i can teach you ! " her tone is cheery, a spring in her step as she walked forward. " haggling is an important skill anywhere, because there's always a good deal if you pester them hard enough. " she chuckles, eyes scanning the busy stalls and shop fronts, " oh, but you have to tell me which fabrics to buy, i've seen your designs around, and i absolutely adore them. i'd love to have your second opinion on what to buy. "
Sanya didn’t know why they’d agreed to this. Honestly, what benefit did they get? Well, leaving the Little Palace for the first time in what felt like forever, was a benefit. It was probably the main benefit. Being allowed the small bit of freedom without having to heal anyone was a blessing. Even if they had to listen to Cirina’s conversation. Fresh air, different scenery was worth it.
It was easy enough to keep up with Cirina’s gait. And really, just being outside was enough to soften some of the angry bitterness that was Sanya’s constant companion these days. They didn’t have to be a Healer today, and that was enough.
Their eyes stayed on Cirina as they moved through the crowds and down the streets. They didn’t even mind the frequent stops into random shops today. Small miracles, they supposed. A hum was the only response they gave for the moment, allowing Cirina to finish before speaking.
"Any specific fabrics you’re looking for?” They could fake caring well enough, at least for this small outing. Even on a good day, fabric wasn’t Sanya’s favorite thing. Give them a good knife and they’d talk for hours. Fabric just didn’t compare.
CIRINA HAD NO QUALMS on who her companion was, she grew up with people from all walks of life, ketterdam always rolling in some foreigner or another into its harbors every day. grisha or non-grisha, she was grateful to have someone to talk to while she did her shopping, and thus she was grateful for sanya's presence.
" oh, the usual, some silk, maybe even some cotton, the kaelish kind. saints knows i need it, ravkan summers can be hellish, and i'd like to purchase them ahead of time, before prices get too high and all. " she's distracted, even as she rambles on, as they walk through the market stalls, eyes darting around hungrily. " not that prices aren't already high enough, having to cross the fold and all— oh! " her sentence is cut short as she scurries ahead to whatever had caught her eye.
" come look! " cirina calls out to her companion, before turning her attention to what had distracted her in the first place. it was silk of a deep green hue, and cirina loved how soft it felt as she rubbed it between her thumb and forefinger. " well? " she asks, looking back up at sanya expectantly, " any thoughts? "
CIRINA HADN'T EXPECTED to stay in os alta for as long as she did, and even more surprisingly, she hadn't expected to warm up to the place. it's not a surprise that the ravkan capital would be far more luxurious than even the finest houses in the geldstraat, but while she did enjoy the grandeur of it all, cirina admittedly missed the hustle and bustle of ketterdam at any time of the day.
( she wonders, often, how the exchange is faring. she's done her fair share of investing, of course, but it's hard to keep track of international news, especially on the account that it would have to cross the unsea before reaching its destination in os alta. )
what she hadn't missed from her hometown, however, was the inability to take long walks. os alta might not have the charm ketterdam has, but it did have one thing : safer streets. truly, a walk through any street of her hometown meant pickpockets at every corner, and that's just the optimistic outlook. cirina supposes that she has grown quite used to her daily walks around the city, often stopping by shops to look at their wares.
" we'll be making a stop at my favorite fabric shop before we return to my residences, " cirina informed her companion in perfect ravkan, " i suppose i could have a servant do my errands, but i'd rather much prefer picking out the fabric personally, plus i love haggling with the women at the shop. "
POLINA TIKHONOVA, a twenty-two year old grisha in the little palace. she is a tidemaker and are known in the little palace as the bon vivant. they are known to be jovial and airy and vaguely resembles elle fanning.
ahhh y’all know the drill ! this is really just a quick backstory and all, and if u wanna plot or smthn (pls do ! i love plotting!) just hmu through IMs or on discord spinch#8782 !
introduction . . .
polina doesn’t remember much of her home, doesn’t even remember the name of the small village she grew up in, aside from the certain feeling that its name had started with a t.
( she had looked for it, when she was about ten, scouring the maps in the library at the grisha school, but there were dozens of towns in northern ravka whose names started with a ‘t’ — tobozniki, tuymanza, tovsk ; none of them sounded familiar )
she does remember her mother’s voice — or, at least, what she thinks is her mother’s voice — ambiguous, a slow murmur at the back of her head —
“ polyasha! ” her voice rang out, “ if you misbehave one more time, we’ll hand you to the fjerdans! ”
it must have been an empty threat ; their village had been in northern ravka, bordering fjerda, and it must not have been uncommon to have a few fjerdan sightings. it must have been an empty threat, polina says to herself whenever the voice, the memory would resurface, perhaps your mama didn’t really know what fjerdans did to grisha. it was silly ; empty assurances for the words of a woman polina can barely remember. maybe your mama meant it as a joke. she would never give you away to the fjerdans.
but perhaps her mama should have feared the grisha first. it took them a while, so far up north, the cold biting at your nose, teeth chattering, but polina had been two days shy of her seventh birthday when the grisha testers came. it was no surprise that polina agreed to go with them ; the grisha had enticed her with sweets and a comfortable bed and warmth and as a little girl tired of fish and hard mattresses and the cold, she had said yes.
she doesn’t remember much of her home aside from her mother’s scolding, some days looping over again and again in her brain every time she misbehaves at school. polyasha, if you misbehave one more time — but nobody at the grisha school called her polyasha.
she wasn’t the youngest of the grisha children when she arrived in os alta, but she was still quite young when she started her education at the grisha school in the little palace — there she learned grisha theory, her kind’s history, learned about the saints and venerated them.
to polina, being a grisha is all she’s ever known . . . her memories of her old hometown muddled through the years, and while the grisha at the little palace are taught to be humble, ( the plain cloths of a simple ravkan farmer a juxtaposition underneath their expensive keftas ) it’s hard to grow up around such luxury and not get used to it – even on the field the second army is given more space, and definitely much better food.
wanted connections
i don’t have any specific wanted connections, but i’d honestly love to have polina have some close childhood friends ! she’s lived in the little palace longer than she’s lived in her actual home town so !! give her friends ! <333
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CIRINA KIR-KHASAR a twenty-eight year old human. she is a noblewoman and is known as the primadonna. they are known to be sophisticated and sanctimonious and vaguely resemble ni ni.
hello, lovelies! this really is just an introduction to cirina, just to get the ball rolling— that means a proper bio post will be up soon enough! anyways, this really will just be all in bullet points, just so you get a general understanding of her backstory and such. if you wanna talk to me re: plotting and all, don’t be afraid to slide into my ims or hmu on discord spinch#8782 !
trigger warnings: mentions of death and drowning!
she doesn’t remember her real last name, though that was hardly an uncommon thing in the orphanage in emmeldaal, a small town on the southeastern-most end of kerch, near the land bridge that once connected it to shu han.
all the orphans had been taken under the care of one khasar yul-altan, a kerch nobleman originally from shu han, who had taken pity on the orphans who often wandered into emmeldaal and its neighboring towns — and oftentimes, these orphans from his homeland themselves.
there was talk that khasar yul-altan crossed the land bridge himself, before the council of the tides flooded it, but that was all just rumors. one thing was true, though: all the orphans took the name of their beneficiary, following traditional shu naming conventions, thus cirina adopted the surname “kir-khasar” or, in shu, daughter of khasar.
she was nine when her family attempted to cross the small strip of the true sea that separated shu han from kerch, but like most of the orphans she grew up with, that had been how they’d found themselves in emmeldaal anyway. they had mostly come from families with grisha children, who they didn’t want experimented on by the shu or recruited into ravka’s second army, who had taken the risk to smuggle themselves to kerch in search of a better life. but the safety of a stowaway is never guaranteed, and most families found themselves in small ships that were never made for travel through the true sea.
that’s how cirina ended up in khasar’s orphanage, coughing out water on the shores of emmeldaal, having swam to safety from the wreck of the boat that had capsized, the same boat that had carried her family. the same boat that had carried her mother and father and little sister, who could make fire sing and dance, who had been the reason why they’d boarded the boat in the first place.
cirina adapted easily into life at the orphanage. she had been one of the eldest when she arrived, thus she was tasked with taking care of the younger children, tucking them in at night and reading them bedtime stories from a country long forgotten by their memory.
a lot of the children at the orphanage had been grisha, too, and once the testers came to whisk them away to a life at the little palace, a life filled with even more luxury, the numbers eventually dwindled.
she was one of khasar yul-altan’s favorites, and while they were all considered his children (at least, by surname), cirina was treated as though she was his own daughter. maybe it was because she stayed while the others left, khasar was always known to have wanted children, that was why he started the orphanage in the first place, but his wife ( a sickly woman, kaelish with bright orange hair that grew duller as her sickness took more and more of her; cirina remembers her faintly, but she had died weeks after cirina had arrived at the orphanage ) was barren.
when khasar yul-altan decided to close up the orphanage and move to ketterdam, cirina and another orphan came along with him, posing as his children, and when he was offered the opportunity to serve as the kerch ambassador to ravka a few years later, they had gone with him too.
that was several years ago. cirina had been fourteen when they had left emmeldaal for ketterdam, and twenty-four when she had left ketterdam for os alta, and in the years that passed, cirina grew more and more comfortable to her title as a noblewoman, practically forgetting her early childhood in the process.
she had developed a taste for the finer things in life, and why wouldn’t she? she had stopped fighting to survive when she was adopted by yul-altan, and the five years in ketterdam — living in the geldstraat, no less — surely strengthened her love for all things expensive. this has grown increasingly more with her move to os alta, surrounded by luxury and riches.
if one would meet her now, they would have never expected her to have come from the sea, coughing and fighting and surviving, and cirina made sure of that. to the members of os alta’s high society, she was of noble blood, just like they were. she can speak kerch and ravkan fluently, as well as easily adapted to the ins and outs of ravkan high society.
cirina is sophisticated and a bit spoiled, yes, and these overshadow how cunning she truly is. people forget that she spent a decade in ketterdam, and while she had spent most of that decade in the . . . finer areas of the city, she still learned vital life lessons from her time there, even having frequented some of the casinos and clubs in the east stave.
wanted connections.
CIRINA KIR-KHASAR is is trying to find their ADOPTIVE SIBLING. they are around 22-26 and may look like remy hii, natasha liu bordizzo, li qin, xiao zhan, any fc as long as they are chinese/part-chinese. you do need to contact the player before applying. ( another child from the orphanage who khasar yul-altan adopted as his own. they are relatively close to cirina, despite never being biologically related, and cirina is highly protective of them, even now as they reside in os alta ).
CIRINA KIR-KHASAR is is trying to find their BETROTHED. they are around 30-34 and may look like (no faceclaim preference). you do not need to contact the player before applying. ( it is no secret that khasar yul-altan isn’t getting any younger, and fearing of the lives of his children after the events of his death, khasar made the decision to arrange marriages between his children and members of ravka’s high society. her adoptive father means well, she knows this, but cirina had no intention of marrying into ravkan nobility in the first place. still, she begrudgingly agrees to the arrangement, even if the other party may not be too eager to rush into marriage, either. ).
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