#fanni.

❛   hello fanni.  ❜   her irritation had already ebbed into a simmer during the last mind-boggling conversation. now it has nearly evaporated. it doesn’t mean that with every rap on the hungarian’s door she had found an excuse to walk away.  ❛   are you free ?  ❜   /.  @fannicroy​

‘ what’s going to get me ? a wolf ? the baba yaga...’ her fingers wiggle ominously with a whooshing sound as she backs out onto the street with a laugh. he is more tipsy than her, she can tell. she doesn’t need a chaperone. she can make out a silhouette in the distance, near the gate, anya ? no. fanni.  head cants, trying to peer through the darkness, the glow of the nearest lamplight only catches the blonde of her hair.    ❛   it’s late. not going the wrong way are you ?   ❜  /.  @fannicroy​

kostya had finished with his opening niceties, once the meeting room had filled, with nadya, impassive aside from handshakes and nods. now she will get straight to the point.  ❛   lenya and katya are safe.  ❜   green eyes pierce two pairs of ice blues, one after the other.   ❛    the french have delivered their threat, like we expected. they are garnering support.   ❜   we, meaning the two of them in the room, a natural outcome of pinning it on the french princess, but this hardly matters.  ❛   inclusive of leonid soletsky. which is admittedly, surprising,  ❜   it is not surprising, it is illuminating, and a little ironic. leonid soletsky is either a cold human being with no regard for the child of family, or levente croÿ had kept his bastard child secret from his cousins.  /.  @lcvcntc​ , @fannicroy​ , @kcstyv​

fingers curl around the handles, but when the bottom of the paint can slides off the crate, her arm goes shooting south faster than intended. she hoists just in time, anchored by the painful weight cutting into her other hand. anya had bought random colours of paints. they weren’t the right colours.  ❛   hello fanni,  ❜   she greets smoothly, shaking hair away from her face when her eyes land on the familiar blonde.  ❛   you look well.  ❜    /.  @fannicroy​

❛   what happened ?   ❜  she’d been with mieke, so she hadn’t seen it, but she’d heard a thing or two from kostya. lyosha isn’t currently conscious to illuminate what had traspired in the less than pleasant conversations he’d had that night. it might seem almost untoward to focus on something so inconsequential in comparison, but it’s easier than fretting over lyosha’s current state. it’s out of her hands. this feels tangible.  //.   @fannicroy​

she’s taken her seat gingerly, not yet deigned to speak a single SYLLABLE since she’d been ushered in through the doorway aside from a rather tempering half-smile to acknowledge and confirm her own identity and presence more than anything else. everything is so . . . classic and BLUE. she catches herself before the internal distaste can take over. the same can be said about her own apartment: avant garde and BLACK.  ❛  this is . . . quite intimate.  ❜  she can’t pretend the invitation wasn’t unexpected. from fanni cröy no less.   //.  @fannicroy