* / 𝐬𝐭𝐚𝐭𝐮𝐞𝐬𝐪𝐮𝐞

𝐲𝐞𝐯𝐚 𝐳𝐮𝐝𝐢𝐧𝐚 .

 一         *    intro   //   profile   //   pinterest 

𝐧𝐚𝐦 𝐬𝐨𝐫𝐚 .

 一         *    intro   //   profile //   pinterest 

          一         *   𝒕𝒉𝒆   𝒓𝒆𝒂𝒍𝒊𝒛𝒂𝒕𝒊𝒐𝒏   𝒐𝒇   𝒓𝒂𝒘   𝒑𝒂𝒊𝒏   only   struck   her   after   she’d   finished   her   performance.   her   eyes   silently   examining   her   wrist,   as   if   the   broken   bone  didn’t   belong   to   her   and   was   just   a   shockingly   gruesome   painting   that   was   meant   to   stir   up   some   kind   of   emotion   within   her.   with   the   passage   of   time   sora  had   thought   that  it   had   dulled   the   pain   of   physical   injuries,   equating   a   snapped   wrist   or   a   tiny   cut   and   shoving   into   the   same   register   of   certain   emotions   she   was   supposed   to   feel.   back   then,   she’d   never   felt   any   physical   pain   (  or   at   least   she   just   assumed   she   didn’t  ).   she’d   always   been   the   one   who   would   mend   wounds   and   tell   others  not   to   overreact   before   she’d   attend   her   own.   yet,   it   seemed   like   her   stay   at   the   little   palace  had  made   her   weak   一   or   maybe   it’d   just   dissolved   the   illusion   that   she   was   ever   okay   to   begin   with.   and,   as   much   as   she   didn’t   want   to   ask   for   help,   the   king      still   anticipated   another   performance   after   the   break   and   if   she   didn’t   fix   this   issue   she   wouldn’t   get   the   money   she   so   desperately   needed.   

“   uhm,   excuse   me,   miss   ? ”   she   approached   a   woman   which  elegance   even  a   mask   couldn’t    cover   up. “   someone   told   me  to   look  for  you  in   case   of   an   injury.“   her   gaze   averted   to   the   floor   as   a   sudden   sense   of   shyness   crept   up   on   her.   for   a   split   second   she   regretted   not   having   bothered   to   pick   up   her   mask   after   she   accidentally   ran   into   someone.   “   i   think   i   hurt   my   wrist   a   little.   unfortunately   i   don’t   have   enough   money   to   compensate   you   but   if   you’d   just   look   at   it   i’d   be   very   grateful.   ”

*inserts incoherent sentences and bad jokes here bcs u know me* shipped miray and vika straight to ketterdam for my girl sora lol so here is my intro and pls plot with me although i suck at getting to my messages, but it’s my toxic charm #yolo (making it cool again).

[ sora nam ], an [ twenty-six ] year old grisha in the little palace. she is a [ inferni ] and are known in the little palace as the [ the taciturn ]. they are known to be [ loyal ] and [ tactless ] and vaguely resemble [ kim jisoo ]. + (she’s a blacksmith sucking at her job but i’ll explain it later)

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aloysha didn’t remember how he ended up outside, but he didn’t altogether care as he took the last swig from the cup of kvas in his hand. they were leaning against a pillar, arms folded across their chest as the pinching night air from outside enveloped around them. they also didn’t notice when someone they didn’t recognize ended up sitting on the ground next to them. alo’s brain was not working properly, because they couldn’t place a name to the face in front of them. he only knew they were sad about something.

“you aren’t bothering me, i don’t think,” he slurred, but it did bother him how familiar the woman’s voice was…. “the only thing dramatic is….. the king. this all seems like a ruse for people to get drunk and not notice something bigger going on.”

                                                                          一一                  *   “   𝒊   𝒂𝒎   𝒏𝒐𝒕   ?   ”   she   grinned,   her   drunken   state   disrupting   any   control   over   her   own   mood.   her   dried   tears   an   almost   erased   hint   about   her   rather   embarrassing   emotional   break   down   seconds   ago.   “   you’re   kind   .”   she   halted,   as   if   her   thoughts   still   waited   to   be   threaded   onto   the   string.   she   wanted   to   say   something   thoughtful,   expressing   her   gratitude   to   a   stranger   that   was   willing   to   listen.   yet,   nothing   but   only   sheer   nonsense   would   leave   her   mouth.   “   the   kindest   masked   person   i’ve   ever   met   in   my   life.   ”   vika   declared,   acting   as   if   her   words   could   be   found   in   a   poem.   but   her   pride   quickly   dissolved   into   the   regret   that   washed   over   her   as   she   was   turning   to   the   stranger   again.   “   unlike   me.”   she   confessed,   a   miniscule   detail   such   as   the   colour   of   the   stranger’s   hair   suddenly   having   reminded   her   of   a   past   argument   she   had.  

                          一一      *        𝒕𝒉𝒆   𝒍𝒊𝒒𝒖𝒐𝒓   𝒉𝒂𝒅   𝒂𝒏   𝒆𝒓𝒐𝒅𝒊𝒏𝒈   𝒆𝒇𝒇𝒆𝒄𝒕   𝒐𝒏   𝒉𝒆𝒓,   memories   flooding   back   into   her   mind   like   waves   crashing   onto   shore,   the   walls   she’d   built   around   her   heart   dissolving   like   thin  ice   beneath   the   sun.   her   shaking   legs   forced   her   outside,   her   dress   suddenly   heavy   from      the   thoughts   her   mind   carried   as   she   finally   plopped   down   on   the   hard,   dirty   ground,   drawing   her   knees   and   dropping   her   head   into   her   arms.   “   this   masquerade   ball   is   a   joke.”   vika   mumbled   “   a   cruel   joke.   "   she   heaved   a   shaky   sigh,   hopeless   tears   burning   her   eyes   threatening   to   spill   onto   her   cheeks.   she   reminded   herself   that   she   was   overreacting,   just   old   wounds   splitting   open   one   by   one,   still,   she   felt   horrible.   一   about   the   ravkan   king      shrugging   off   the   lives   of   many   like   dust   on   his   expensive   garment.   about   her   attending   the   ball   when   she   shouldn’t.   about   how   her   friend   was   supposed   to   be   here   and   not   her.   and   yet   she   was   almost   sobbing   like   a   fool,   realizing   a   little   too   late   that   she   wasn’t   alone.   

“   i   assume   you’d   also   prefer   to   be   somewhere   else   ?   so   what   brings   you   here   ?   ”   vika   turned   to   the   other,   wiping   her   tears   off   her   face,   her   blurry   vision   preventing   her   to   recognize   their   face.   “   i’m   sorry,   i   didn’t   mean   to   bother   you,   i’m   just   having   a   bad   day   and   it   seems   like   i’m   not   the   only   one.   it’   just   ...   一”   she   swallowed   “   well,   bad   memories.”   a   bitter   laugh   escaped   her   throat,   masking   over   a   short   glimpse   of   her   vulnerabilty.   “   still,   i   can’t   believe   that   fool   is   throwing   a   party...   seems   like   he’s   celebrating   death   ...   or   am   i   being   dramatic,   again   ?　”

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. 

                 一   *      𝒊𝒇   𝒗𝒊𝒌𝒂   𝒅𝒊𝒅𝒏’𝒕   𝒍𝒂𝒄𝒌   𝒔𝒆𝒍𝒇-𝒂𝒘𝒂𝒓𝒆𝒏𝒆𝒔𝒔   ,   she’d   have   noticed   that   the   grisha   was   hauntingly   similar   to   her   in   the   way   they   tried   to   impress   the   other   by   showing   off   their   skills.   yet,   that   reminder   didn’t   faze   her,   truth   to   be   told,   it   did   not   even   reach   her   and   instead   she   stood   there   watching   the   scene   in   sheer   amusement   as   she   was   giggling   at   her   reflection   incarnated   in   the   form   of   a   grisha.   and   she’d   have   continued   if   karma   didn’t   catch,   not   even   granting   her   a   second   to   flee   from   that   unfortunate   rumpus.  

“   i   am   ?   ”   she   coughed,   choking   on   the   liquor   she’d   just   lazily   sipped   from   a   sparkling   crystal   glass   moments   ago,   looking   as   stunned   as   the   grisha.   “   i   mean   of   course   i   am.   ”   she   grinned,   collecting   herself   as   well   as   another   thought   that   she’d   lost   in   surprise.   “   so   how   much   are   you   willing   to   pay   me   for   this   ?   ”   she   turned   to   the   girl,   talking   in   whispers.   “   depending   on   the   money,   i   might   also   ‘accidentally’   spill   some   liquor   at   him.   or   maybe   you   fancy   a   new   hair   colour,   i   promise   you   he   won’t   bother   you   for   the   rest   of   the   night   then.   and   don’t   worry   it   won’t   hurt."

*          𝙲𝙻𝙾𝚂𝙴𝙳     𝚂𝚃𝙰𝚁𝚃𝙴𝚁          :          @maskved​     .

𝚍𝚎𝚜𝚙𝚒𝚝𝚎     𝚊𝚕𝚕     𝚝𝚑𝚎     𝚝𝚒𝚖𝚎     𝚝𝚑𝚎𝚢     𝚒𝚗𝚎𝚟𝚒𝚝𝚊𝚋𝚕𝚢     𝚜𝚑𝚊𝚛𝚎     ,     there’s     something     REMARKABLY     soothing     about     vika’s     presence     .     the     nights     may     be     cool     ,     but     𝐡𝐨𝐭     𝐭𝐞𝐚     is     a     saintsend     between     their     palms     and     mellifluous     laughter     warms     the     tailors’     quarters     .          ❝          do     you     reckon     he’d     make     a     good     frog          ?          or     maybe     some     UGLY     bird     .          ❞          (          it’s     likely     treason     ,     the     way     they     gossip     about     hypothetical     rebellion     against     the     darkling     ,     but     it     passes     the     time     .          )          ❝          we     could     always     give     him     warts     ,     if     all     𝚎𝚕𝚜𝚎     fails     .     he     wouldn’t     be     half     as     arrogant     if     he     was     covered     in     them     ,     would     he          ?          ❞

                             一 *      𝒎𝒐𝒎𝒆𝒏𝒕𝒔   𝒐𝒇   𝒕𝒓𝒂𝒏𝒒𝒖𝒊𝒍𝒊𝒕𝒚   𝒂𝒓𝒆   𝒄𝒖𝒕   𝒔𝒉𝒐𝒓𝒕   by   jovial   laughter,   careless   conversations   exchanged   by   two   tailors   enduring   the   same   fate.   yet,   despite   of   all   that,   the   harshness   of   their   reality,   the   stifling   fatigue   after   every   lesson,   the   crushing   weight   of   the   past   events,   she   feels   light.   一   exempt   from   any   worries,   painful   memories   dissolved   into   a   puddle   of   frivolity.