ravkastarters.

                        一   *   𝒉𝒖𝒔𝒉𝒆𝒅   𝒍𝒂𝒖𝒈𝒉𝒕𝒆𝒓   𝒂𝒏𝒅   𝒗𝒐𝒊𝒄𝒆𝒔   𝒎𝒆𝒍𝒕𝒊𝒏𝒈   into   music   were   drowned   by   sharp   gasps   of   breath.   a   long   strand   of   dark   hair   had   escaped   from   her   almost   perfectly   fashioned   bun,   stinging   her   neck   as   she   was   pinning   the   grisha   down.   she   didn’t   need   to   clutch   his   wrist   this   tightly   (  after   all   he   was   unconscious   anyway   ),   but   uncontrollable   rage   and   bitterness   filled   every   fibre   of   her   body,   causing   her   hand   to   tremble   and   the   the   blade   of   her   knife   nicking   his   throat   again.   she   needed   to   finish   this   quickly,   only   one   remaining,   easy,   step   and   she’d   prevent   his   existence   from   becoming   part   of   any   future   memory   ever   again.  

a   cruel   but   divine   task   gifted   to   her,   a   task   she   could’ve   finished   at   this   very   moment,   if   the   slightest   disruption   of   regularity,   wouldn’t   have   prevented   her   from   it.   “uh. ”   she   stared   at   the   other,   as   if   she   was   waiting   for   them   to   run   and   telling   someone   about   what   they’d   witnessed.   “ lev   and   i   were   playing…”   she   let   another   moment   pass,   attempting   to   slip   the   knife   into   her   sleeve.   “hide   and   seek...   and   i   might   have   tripped   over   his   unconscious   body.   someone   must   have   attacked   him.   i   think …   ”

aloysha was, truthfully, not looking forward to this ball. the only upside he could think of was that his outfit looked amazing, and no one would be able to see his face when he got wasted because he was getting drunk. why would the king and queen think this would be a good idea so soon after the attack? people were still mourning, he was still mourning. it just showed how little they thought of the second army. it angered aloysha greatly.

sighing, aloysha took a spot by the drinks on the side of the room. he watched as people danced, not recognizing anyone. though that was probably the point. maybe he could find someone to dance with and sneak out with them. it certainly would have been a lot more fun than whatever was happening here.

adrian was not someone who could stand still for long periods of time, whenever he wasn’t required to as a guard at least. so standing in the mass of masked individuals, he was desperately looking around the ballroom trying to find something to do, knowing there was no point in trying to identify anyone. eyes falling on the couples moving about elegantly in the centre, an idea was starting to form in his mind. it wasn’t something he’d share with anyone freely, or talked about openly, but adrian secretly loved to dance and he wasn’t too bad at it either. now all that was left to do was find a dance partner.

as a spy it was probably not the best idea to stand out, the dance floor probably one of the most visible spots of the ballroom. however, adrian trusted the outfit he’d chosen, and the mask would both allow him to blend in and hide his identity enough.

approaching a beautiful masked lady who happened to be on her own at the moment, adrian offered her a charming smile, holding out his hand for her to take. ‘’I’d be honoured if you’d join me for a dance.’’

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

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

sleeping in strange places. for anyone who knew him this was a normal habit of his, however to those who did not, it could easily come across as a coping technique, a consequence of the attack that had taken place. 

he’d started the night with a good book and a glass of kvas, a second standing next to his in case someone decided to join him. soon enough night turned into the dark hours, the last soul having left the place long ago, turning off the last source of light in the library, save for the one on the table he was sitting at. dmitri remained, having dozed off in one of the armchairs. although from the way he was sitting it looked like he could still be awake, as if he’d closed his eyes only to rest them for a moment.

a sound to his right startled him awake, instinctively reaching for their lungs, angling his hands together, removing the air from them as he manipulated the organ. realising the person who interrupted his sleep was not actually a threat to him, not at the moment at least, dmitri released them. 

‘‘shouldn’t you be in bed, you know, sleeping?’‘ pretending the incident hadn’t happened in the first place, dmitri reached for the bottle of kvas on the table, pouring the both of them a drink. ‘‘sit.’‘

it was no secret jedda had trouble sleeping, most of her nights were spent tossing around the bed before she decided enough was enough. sleep never came easy to her, and she had stopped chasing it years ago. instead she walked, she roamed the halls of the little palace, and spent her time waiting for the first rays of sunshine to break through the sky. tonight was a peculiar night, for the past few minutes jedda has sensed the presence of someone else in the gardens. nothing odd, except that she had the feeling they were following her.

he truly had no business being here. one of the things valentín had learned over his short stay at the little palace was that no room or corridor ever remained empty for too long. there were simply just too many people at the little palace. he had been alone in the room at first but it didn’t take long for two grisha in blue keftas to walk in. 

the truth was, val didn’t have a single clue how to go about being a spy. the only reason he had agreed to it, was because with his father there never was much of a choice. as much as val secretly hoped this would be his chance to prove himself to his father, he was more afraid of the consequences if he failed than anything else.  he was the quiet type, which meant he could sometimes go unseen but that didn’t exactly meant he knew how to make use of that — or that he wanted to for that matter, but perhaps that was why the stable boy had managed to blend in so well where he wasn’t supposed to, but still, he had a lot to learn.

he heard something behind him, when he turned around he wasn’t expecting to see someone so close to him. “saints!” his own fright pushed him back against the bookshelfs, causing one of the books to tumble down. the scene alerted those around him as he disrupted the peace and quiet of the library. embarrassed val turned his gaze upon the room to find that everyones eyes were on him. the room had new people in it now — no room or corridor ever remained empty for too long. he bowed his head at them, a silent apology before turning his attention back to them. “i’m– i’m terrible sorry. i didn’t see you there.”

sweat glistened on the brow of the blonde woman’s face as she threw another gust of wind toward the dummy in front of her, then another, and another, and another, before it just turned into her repeatedly punching the dummy on top of letting the wind destroy the room with each punch. she really couldn’t help it when she was in a mood (which was often). this was where she spent most of her time when she was having a day, and it usually ended up in her using all of her power and strength in training to where when she was done, all she wanted to do was sleep the rest of the day and tend to the bruises she was bound to get. it was definitely not a healthy coping mechanism, but serafima wasn’t exactly worried about that.

this was where serafima could let out the years of trauma from her past without it being considered harmful intent, where she could transform all of that pain into a few moments of power as if she could beat the torment out of her body. it worked for the most part, however it didn’t work when someone interrupted her.

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.

Losing   people—it   has   been   years   since   she   became   a   part   of   the   second   army,   plenty   enough   time   to   see   more   loss   than   victories.   And   yet,   Yelena   was   still   not   used   to   it.   Nor   did   she   take   it   with   a   stride,   as   some   preferred   to   do.   In   moments   of   loss,   she   was   more   prone   to   anger   than   keeping   a   level   head.   The   memory   of   it   would   play   in   her   mind—even   the   sound   and   the   smell   of   anguish—and   it   would   sour   her   mood   quickly.   Today   was   no   different,   so   soon   after   the   recent   tragedy.   And   in   her   frustration,   a   scream   tore   through   the   silence,   as   she   threw   the   book   she   was   studying   across   the   room,   until   it   slammed   against   a   wall,   the   pages   flying   from   its   decaying   spine.

Yelena   tried   to   manage   her   breathing,   hands   balled   into   tight   fists.   Once   her   temper   passed,   she   could   finally   feel   the   other   beating   heart   in   the   room   with   her.   She   heaved   a   heavy   and   audible   sigh,   almost   theatrically,   as   if   she   had   just   been   caught   being   petulant,   rather   than   having   a   witness   to   a   moment   of   vulnerability.   “I’ll   pick   it   up,”   she   said,   before   doing   so.   Carefully,   she   picked   up   the   heavy   book,   and   its   pages,   strewn   all   over   the   floor.   “You   should   think   twice   before   sneaking   up   on   someone   like   that,   ”   Yelena   said,   her   tone   surprisingly   nonchalant.

this was where sunniva thrived.

not in the materialki workshops, not during battle. in the garden. it was mostly quiet, aside from the busy bees flying around her, getting to work for their queen bee. sometimes that’s what sunniva felt like– simply a worker. she didn’t altogether like what they had made her at the little palace. at home she was the only grisha she knew of, and she always felt needed. here, there was always someone who was better, more knowledgeable, there were so many rules. there was no way she was ever going to be able to keep up with everyone. at least, that’s what she thought.

her fingers just barely brushed over an almost blooming lily flower, one sunniva had kept an eye on for quite a few days. it seemed to be having trouble coming to life, utilizing its potential. so, she helped it along as she always did. within a few seconds the flower blossomed, the petals bouncing lively as it came to life. she smiled satisfactorily, leaning back on her heels and placing her hands in her lap.

as she looked around, it came to her attention that all of the flowers were well cared for, thriving. she was of no use to them anymore. there seemed to be no more reason for her to be around. just as the emptiness began to sink in again, she heard footsteps coming up behind her.

@ravkastarters​

“   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.

Short answer; never. Things probably would be easier if it had. But alas, that’s focusing on the past, and well, that took too much energy. So instead of doing that, Zhuan was just vibing. That was a lie, all of this was a lie, really. He had one mission. But he wasn’t going to come in guns blazing. He wasn’t suicidal.

Anymore.

So instead he was going to play the innocent, as if the urge to burn everything he touched wasn’t pulsing though his fingertips. It was fine, he didn’t belong, and it was very easy to play on that. Big eyes, head tilt, approach the first person you see.

“I believe I’m a bit lost. I was wondering if you could help me?” A sheepish smile followed his words. All an act.

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.”

SAINTS BE BLESSED AND CURSED FOR PLAYING SO FLIMSILY WITH LIFE AND DEATH IN A DAY MEANT TO CELEBRATE THE FORMER, of the many heartbeats gone silent all at once alike candles blown away by a violent gust of wind and something human yet not human fallen from the skies with a bloodcurling noise that had him for once decide for any plan to crash into a fancy party for fun to turn into a quick retreat before anything could drag him into its brief crossfire, tremors of knees a reminder of an old but never forgotten fear.

a khergud … it couldn’t be. it just couldn’t be. he hasn’t seen any of those in years, remembering still of their inhumane screeches in the back of his mind at every nightmare shaking him awake, and yet … it was the only response to all his doubts.

“ i need to see that thing. ” but he had no right, the traitor ! he really had not, just like he shouldn’t have been there to those confines separating him from little palace’s grounds –any access to sensitive data being forbidden to one like him whose head was wanted for public hanging, only for him to take if violence of blades and twisted bloodflows would’ve been so swiftly applied ; but he wanted not to resort to hurt someone this time, knowing best how it wouldn’t help his ( already lost ) cause. “ i know it’s too much to ask, but i … i need to see it. ”