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ximilialog2021-07-04 05:26 pm
- ! event log,
- ! open,
- caos: zelda spellman,
- doctor who: clara oswald,
- doctor who: river song,
- doctor who: the doctor (11),
- grishaverse: the darkling,
- gundam seed/destiny: yzak jule,
- mcu: daisy johnson,
- mcu: erik stevens,
- original: dusty fields,
- pacific rim: newton geiszler,
- ratchet and clank: ratchet,
- star trek aos: james t. kirk,
- the untamed: jiang yanli,
- the untamed: wen qing,
- undertale: sans,
- voltron: lance
MISSION: GHOST GIRL
● ● ● M I S S I O N 1 . 1
Finally, after weeks of radio silence, Viveca’s voice filters through the earpieces.
The other thing I’ve been busy doing is scanning for the closest orb signal, and the good news is that we’ve got a strong one, finally. I’ve connected the platform, so we’re ready to go. I’ve sent files about your mission to all of you, so read it carefully. We sent a vision of sorts to those who are in charge of the city you’ll be going to, so they know to expect you… we had to get a bit creative, there, but I’m sure you’ll be fine.
They’ve got some expectations of you, but it’s up to you if you want to work with them or not. As long as you get the orb and do the task it has given you, that’s enough. When you have the orb, I’ll get you all back to the station.
But before you go, there's something you should know. If you die during a mission, there’s nothing I can do to help you… so be careful. We don’t want to lose anyone.
After Viveca’s closing statement, a message alerts the team to the fact that they do, in fact, have a file labeled Gyeongje Orb waiting for them. After they have familiarised themselves with the situation, they should pick up their things, whatever they think they need on the mission, and head to the center of the station.
There, the previously-quiet platform is whirring with power, bright lights on the floor making your clothes seem darker than they are. When the last person in the team steps on it, suddenly the hum of the machine amps up until the sound is almost unbearable, the lights burning so bright they hurt your eyes, so bright you have to close them —
When you do, there’s a voice; no, multiple voices, like a chorus of sounds that form words but aren’t quite human. What this chorus tells you is a goal: one goal you must complete in exchange for power.
And then the sounds die away, leaving you with a one-sided demand… when you open your eyes, you’re not on the station anymore.
Around you, a courtyard opens up, surrounded by the tall peaks of a palace that rises sky-high, its golden roofs glinting in the sunlight. There’s not much time to look around, though, as the team is surrounded by guards in red uniforms, the arrows they point crackling with purple energy and the blades of their swords elaborately carved.
One guard steps forward.
“At peace! These are the ones who were promised. Our Lady has given orders to bring them to her… unharmed.”
She looks at the rest of the guards, and slowly, they lower their weapons and step back in two neat lines, leaving the way to the staircase that rises towards the palace free.
“Our honored saviors, please follow me.”
The captain will not wait, but starts leading the way up the stairs — the staircase rises steeply to a heavy, reinforced door that is still beautifully decorated. The door leads into the palace proper; there, the team is led to a large room with two thrones at the back of the room.
On the thrones, two people rise to greet them. The captain of the guard introduces them as Lady Jeung-Sun and Lord Suk-Ju.
The lord steps forward, arms open with a wide smile.
He then steps back with a gesture to his wife. She, in turn, is not smiling; instead, her voice is quiet and serious when she starts to speak.
With those words and a look at the captain of her guard, she sits down; it is clear this audience is over.
1.0 The captain leads the team to an open hallway full of rooms. In each room, there are lanterns illuminating it, with low-lying furniture and two beds… which means if you were one of the lucky ones on the station to not have a roommate, no such luck here! The rooms are large enough that you could drag in an extra bed and make it a room for three, though the guards may give you some strange looks.
However, not all of the rooms are in pristine condition. It seems that as the rulers didn’t quite believe the “vision” they received, they also didn’t prepare for this many people to arrive. As such, some of the rooms have dust gathering in the corners, perhaps some cobwebs, and the bedding may have seen some rats during its lifetime.
If you’re not stuck with a room that needs cleaning, you may wander to the small courtyard that the hallways circle; there, you will find enough space to get in some training or light sparring, or just find a bench and enjoy the clean air!
2.0 That evening, you will be led to a large hall: it seems it is time for the promised banquet! Eat to your heart’s content, taste the traditional foods that are served… the music played is perhaps not the best for dancing, but why not try? Or maybe, if you’re skilled like that, you can take over for the musicians and provide your own music. Whatever you decide to do, you'll find the nobles invited are quite curious about their prophesized saviors, and with a few drinks in, perhaps it would be a good time to get cozy and chat.
3.0 Should you wander outside the banquet, though, that evening or any day after, you will find that while some parts of the palace welcome their supposed saviors with open arms, like the kitchens or the courtyard where the guards go to train, some do not. The guards’ quarters will only accept inside those who don the guards’ red uniform, and the throne room and the rulers’ personal quarters behind it are guarded at most times of the day and night. It is not impossible to enter them, though: those crafty enough may find a way in.
You’ll find that if you want to leave the palace, it is not easy — it seems Lady Jeung-Sun was serious when she said outside the palace is not safe. But when there’s a will, there’s a way: follow the servants into the tunnels beneath the palace, duck behind corners to not be seen and make your way to a back alley in the merchant district; or if you’re good at disguises, dress up as a servant or a guard and simply walk out. Just be careful not to get caught; though the guards aren't angry if they catch you, they will start to follow you around until you return to the palace. Or perhaps you come up with some other way to leave...
… and if you do, the city of Gyeongje is open to explore. Right outside the palace within the inner city the houses are large, the people dressed well — and if you are not, or haven’t changed to fit in, you will be on the receiving end of some very judgmental looks.
4.0 However, once you leave the inner city and enter the merchant district, the inhabitants are far more welcoming. Some start immediately waving the new travelers to their shops, where you can find intricately carved wooden items, beautiful swords and other weapons, and clothes that will make you fit in instantly — if you have the money to pay for them. If you don’t have silver or gold from your homeworld with you, hope you took something valuable from the palace to barter with!
5.0 And though the houses in the merchant district bear no signs of battle like the inner city does, not everything is perfect. There are people who have built little huts of rags and wooden logs wherever they fit, huddling underneath. Their shouts echo after you: Please, lend us a hand, we can’t live like this!
There are beggars, too, homeless people on the streets with tattered clothes, who turn their tired eyes to you as you walk past. Some will try to grab your clothes or legs, whispering Help me, they drove me from my home... others do nothing, like they don’t even have the strength to ask for help. Whether you stay and try to get them food, drink or a place to stay is up to you — but if the guards see you doing so, they will take you back to the palace with a stern warning to not interact with “the outer ones”.
6.0 Once you walk far enough, you will come face to face with a tall, wooden fence that bears bright red markings — those warning of plague. And though the guards patrol the area, there is a chance to sneak inside, though at the risk of getting caught and spending a night in the palace’s magically reinforced cells.
If you do sneak past, you will find that some houses have the same red mark on their doors and walls, and are in terrible condition: doors ajar, windows broken, scratch marks on the floors — but no signs of an illness having been treated. Outside, the streets are empty, and further inspection of the houses not bearing a mark shows that people have left in a hurry… or have been forced to leave. Upon further inspection, it seems there is not one living or dead soul in the entire outer district… unless you’re very lucky, and happen to catch the sight of someone dressed in white entering one of the houses.
From both the merchant district and the outer district, there is a way to the woods surrounding the city. The trees grow thick and heavy, the air under them still with waiting. There are no paths in the forest, at least none easily seen, and though there are animals like birds and squirrels, they seem easily spooked.
Once you have had your fill of exploring the city, it’s time to get to what you’ve come here for.
An informal council, attended by both the Lord and Lady of Gyeongje, is held in one of the larger war rooms, a space big enough to accommodate a greater party than expected, and to demonstrate how desperate the city is for help as well as their trust in you, regardless of whether you’ve really shown you deserve it. There is an expansive map of the city spread over a table in the middle of the room with small red flags pinned across it. The discussion is aggressive, fear of the Ghost Girl and her army being the driving force behind the intensity of speech, but the important thing is that there have been plenty of recorded sightings of the Ghost Girl worth investigating with one area in particular noted by a small cluster of red flags at one end of the map. Perhaps it is you who points this out curiously, but before the captain of the guard can elaborate, a sharp horn pierces the quiet tension of the palace with urgency, followed by several more in succession: the palace is under attack.
7.a Some of you might be more keen than others to take initiative and investigate the new commotion within the palace. Pushing the doors open onto the courtyard will offer you a first glimpse of the infiltration over the fortified palace walls, and they are creatures that could make your skin crawl, or at the very least cause you to do a double-take. The captain of the guard bravely leads the charge, pushing forward and calling the rest of her army to her with the intent to protect the Lord and Lady of the palace with their lives. There is nothing being said to actually enact any kind of violence, even while the guards have their weapons drawn before them, but there is clear posturing between the two parties — strange. The monsters turn their sights on you instead, twisting their misshapen heads to meet your eyes, mouths open and full of teeth as though to speak, but nothing comes out except a guttural growl.
And then they launch themselves forward.
7.b If you prefer to stay within the war room, you won’t be alone. A cluster of the guard have taken to assembling a kind of protective shield from the oncoming monsters, and it becomes clear quite quickly that the monsters are here for one thing — the Lord and Lady themselves. The monsters within the room are more hostile, intent on getting to their target now that they’re so close. They clamber past the threshold, a mass of different discernible shapes, colours, sizes, and smells. (Yeah, smells. Gross.) One of them steps away from the cluster, a blue cloak draped over its shoulders — it’s distinct; familiar in some way.
Either way, the creatures amble towards you with heavy, weighted steps, and are more than willing to exact their aggression on you without a thought as though purely running on some primal instinct. After all, you are just one more obstacle in the way of them reaching their goal. Their punches are heavy, and some of the creatures have sharp teeth eager to sink themselves into whatever soft and fleshy part they can find of you. If you try and call one of the guard for help, you’ll find them hesitant to come to your aid, partially because they are afraid but there’s something else there too — a reluctance to fight them at all. What will you do now?
7.c Whether you’ve decided to defend the palace from the courtyard (or other locations in and around the palace) or choose to stay with the Lord and Lady of Gyeongje, the monsters have fully invaded the walls and are everywhere to be found.
If you’re lucky, you’ll live for another few minutes but your victory if you choose to kill one of the monsters is met with a haunting message, an uttered warning (some might tell you ‘it wasn’t fair’ or ‘this is all their fault’) or an apology (a simple: ‘I’m sorry’ before their last breath), clearer in your ears than anything you might have otherwise heard from them this day.
You might try to fend for yourself, your fellow orbers, or the guards, with some amount of success, escaping the sharp teeth and claws from catching onto you — but not all of you will be so fortunate. In your attempt to dodge an attack or defend yourself, you might be ambushed by a sneak attack from behind, or perhaps it is your trusty weapon that fails you. Either way, you’ve been wounded. Instantly you’ll notice one thing — where once your skin was healthy and, well, skin-coloured, it has now started to turn dark and unnatural, accompanied by a scent you might recognize from earlier. It’s a little too sweet, a little too strange, like something rotting. Only now it’s a part of you. You’ve been infected.
In the short reprieve between one fight to another, you may lift your eyes towards the ramparts and spot a figure standing with her back straight, her expression vague and unyielding. White fabric flows and unfolds around her like ribbons, and you can immediately put a name to the figure — this is the Ghost Girl you’ve heard so much about. She will suddenly meet your eyes with unreadable stoicism that reflects the rest of her posture before she turns away and vanishes, tortured cries and calls following in her wake. With her disappearance past the palace walls comes a slowdown of the fighting, as though the creatures no longer feel the same vigor they came in with … and soon they begin to retreat, climbing the walls and over clay tile to follow their leader.
The fight is over — for now.
We’ll leave it up to you to decide the difficulty and success of defeating a monster of your choosing for that Dramatic Effect.
Shortly after the palace has been cleared of monsters and the guards can look after their own, the captain approaches to assess the orbers.
8.0 The Wounded (CW: body horror): Those who have been significantly wounded in the fights against the creatures will find that they simply aren’t feeling well, and it’s going to be difficult to hide the black wound-marks or the smell. Lord Suk-Ju immediately summons the captain and orders her to take the wounded to the Infirmary, assuring them that they will be taken care of there.
If you were wounded, you and your fellow wounded Orbers will be led through a series of corridors towards one end of the palace with a large set of gates guarding a formidable wood door painted black. Hmm — ominous. Within it are the usual comforts of a medieval hospital: beds, vials of medicine, bedpans, the works. You are assured you will join your non-wounded comrades soon and you go along with the procedures. But as the hours pass, you’ll find your symptoms begin to worsen. Some of you will find painful growths starting from your hands and your feet as they begin to form sharp claws, tearing through the fabric of your clothes or the leather of your shoes. Some of you will feel your mouths become fuller as your teeth begin to grow. Other transformations will begin to change your body from what you remember, eyes turning red or jet-black, or your skin changing colour and texture, turning you into something else, something other.
Before you can let the panic overtake you, someone administers a powerful draught to help you sleep — or maybe to subdue you — and then you begin to dream.
In this dream, you are standing on a wooden balcony and in front of you stands a girl dressed in white; her dress billows around her, and her dark hair is long and hangs unbound. When she turns, revealing her face… you see that up close, she is certainly nothing like the rulers would have had you believe: young, her expression unthreatening.
They say I command the monsters, but that isn’t true. I help them. I’m the only one who helps them. It’s a sickness, and it’s been passed to you. Soon, the Lord and the Lady will turn on you, too. They will try to kill you the way they have tried to kill everyone else like you. But I am offering you sanctuary. Leave the palace and come to me. In Yuryeong I will protect you.
When the effect of the draught wears off and you blink back to awareness, you realize that there is a map in your head: the knowledge of exactly which path to take to reach what the Ghost Girl — So-Yeon — called Yuryeong. The only decision you need to make is whether to go, with whom… and whether you do it as a friend or a foe. But take note — there are guards abound and the wooden door heavy with locks. It becomes quite clear that this room is meant for people to come in… but not to come out.
9.0 The Survived: Those who have managed to avoid taking any damage are escorted back to their rooms and reassured that the rest of their team are in good hands, that they have nothing to worry about, and that they will be fine. Of course if you make any attempts to ask about visiting any of them, you’ll be told — in a not-so-gentle manner — that it simply isn’t possible, not at this time. And any further attempts to ask to see them will be met with a firm “no” and nothing else. Finally, if you try to leave the quarters to see the wounded orbers, the captain’s guards will forcibly stop you.
“It’s for your own good,” they’ll say.
Later, out of sight of the guards, you might try and make your way over to the hospital wing anyway but this seems to be a fool’s errand. Not only are the corridors more confusing than they should be, as though someone has done this on purpose, but when you’ve finally found the door, you’ll find that it’s impossible to open it or break it down. At least the comms devices in your ear will still work so there is some line of communication between you and your wounded friends, right? Better yet, if you happen to have some teleportation abilities or something similar … well, it wouldn’t hurt to give that a go either, would it? After all, the enforcement spell isn’t familiar with such things — best not to get caught in the process, however, and test the ‘generosity’ provided to you through the rulers of this land… right?
F Y I
• As each event log and interaction may bring about more information regarding the mission, players are highly encouraged to continue using the OOC plotting post. It will be the only mod-created one for the mission until the voting begins on July 18.
• If you have questions about any of the prompts or the mission in general, please direct them here.
• To submit a search request regarding speaking to any of the NPCs, or exploring a specific part of the palace or any of the districts, please do so here.
• From the intro onwards, Viveca is back, meaning that characters may speak to her whenever they want. You can thread that out here if you want.
• Voting about the actions the characters will take regarding the Ghost Girl, the monsters and the rulers will go up July 18. Though voting will be done in an OOC post, it is an IC vote in the sense that you should pick a choice your character would ICly make. What the characters choose to do will determine the direction of the second log, as well as the conclusion of the mission.
• And finally, have a soundtrack for this log (parts I, II and III, respectively)! ♪ ♪ ♪
no subject
still, the guards hear no complaints from her as she brute forces thoughts of silk sheets and warm baths aside. she's not so certain they would care to listen, anyway, with how strangely tepid the royals' reception of them has been. saviors, they had called them, only to doubt they would come to help at all. only to guard them behind walls and claim it's for their own good.
their treatment is too eerily familiar for alina to drown her doubt, welling in her stomach. with her belongings planted on the bed, a simple rucksack with so few possessions she can claim, she crouches to swipe away dust from a bookshelf — and freezes mid-glide. much as she loathes to confess it, she would know the dark vibrato of that voice anywhere. she straightens and levels him with a steely, suspicious glance. ]
If this is your idea of a joke, it's sick.
[ truthfully, it feels more like a joke that's been played on her by divine forces she doesn't even believe in. as though they had heard her comparisons between the lady and lord's behavior and aleksander, and chosen to summon his presence somehow. ]
There are plenty of other rooms. This one is mine.
[ the orphanage had taught her to be territorial early on; anything less was asking for trouble. it delivers an extra bite to her words now as she watches him, jaw tight. if he's going to eye this one like it's diseased, it's all the more reason for him to find another. wishful thinking on alina's part, when she has no doubt he would choose this room just to torment her further. ]
You'll have much bigger problems than my snoring if you don't get out.
no subject
It burns, her snide voice. Like nails down a chalkboard as she just keeps talking, as if there's anything other than groveling that he wants to hear out of her mouth.
The Darkling turns, slowly, hands clasped behind his back as he looks down his nose at her, his lips peeled back from his teeth in disgust.]
Why would I ever choose this?
[Maybe she's been damaged in some way, hit her head too hard or been poisoned by irrationality.]
How do I know that you didn't set this up, Sun Summoner. Maybe you were looking for a better way to kill me this time.
[He welcomes the rage, eyes flashing and nostrils flaring. It's better than the alternative.]
You can go sleep in the hallway for all I care. This is my room.
no subject
I was here first. [ a simple statement of fact that doubles as a petty argument. alina's stubborn conviction, spitting it out as though it very obviously rules out the possibility of subterfuge on her part, only serves to highlight how naively honest she truly is. how limited her scope and experience with deception is. her eyebrows draw together, brewing confusion casting a cloud over her expression. ] How would I have planned this?
[ maybe you were looking for a better way to kill me this time. she turns the accusation over in her head, tries to make sense of what seems so nonsensical, and immediately decides it can't be anything more than his (annoyingly effective) strategy to momentarily knock her off-balance. ]
I thought you were meant to be immortal. [ with an exasperated roll of her eyes: ] Shouldn't you have grown out of being a child?
[ he sounds no better than keramzin's bullies needling at her. she could almost laugh at the absurdity of it, if not for the fear prickling at the back of her mind, made to feel like a skittish, powerless animal he's once again trapped. her fingers curl into her palms, steeling herself against the adrenalized burst of flight-or-fight instincts jolting within her. ]
Get out. I won't warn you again.
no subject
[He echoes her words, voice flat and mocking, lips twitching with outrage.
She's still stubborn, refusing to back down even it would be in her best interest. But seeing what was in front of her and what would be in her best interest, seemed like something Alina was incapable of. Running from the protection of the Little Palace, running from him only to rush in to the arms of the otkazat’syan tracker.]
I am sleeping in this bed.
[Fought him every step of the way, even as he put the collar on her. Dragged her to the Fold, she kept it up. Resisting. Fighting. As if she didn't know that the battle was already over, and won. By him.
His fingers itch to reach for her, clamp his hand down on her shoulder and make her remember. Instead, he sneers and turns his back.
That she helped throw him overboard was a minor setback. All would be remedied. In time.]
And what will you do, Alina. You said you couldn't summon anymore and I know how you feel about lies.
[Half-truths. He never lied. He didn't need to.]
Get out yourself.
no subject
it should be, and yet —
no cornered creature can resist gnashing its teeth. no caged beast accepts its fate without fighting for an escape. and what will you do, alina? how easily he dismisses her as powerless only feels like another collar around her throat, at the mercy of his whims — a suffocating reminder of helplessness she wants, desperately, to cast off. ]
This is what I will do.
[ and what will you do? the answer has been simple, from the start: fight you. he will not drive her to run again. the light ignites at her fingertips in a pulse of celestial white until it flares and erupts toward him, a supernova searing through the dusty stones of their room. ]
I never claimed I lost my summoning for good.
[ she advances in a wrathful glow, mouth twisted. something in her froths and rages for more, a rabid thing drunk on the power of vengeance; she smothers it before it can take hold, sickened by that violent impulse, kindled fingertips twitching. ]
You should be proud, Aleksander. [ a mocking sneer. ] I learned how to tell lies from you.
no subject
They are the same.
But he's too busy thinking, gloating, and he forgets - for a split-second- to watch her hands as Light rushes at him, fast as thought and the shield of Darkness that he calls forth is just a fraction too late as her Light clips the side of his face. Instant sun-burn, too hot to even feel it as it slices through his flesh and cauterizes the wound, before his own shadows raises up to cover him like a second skin.]
Careful, Alina- [He grinds out, wiping the traces of blood off of his face with the back of his hand. The veil falls, the shadows bleeding down, slithering across the distance between them at the twitch of his long fingers.
Of course, she wields his name like a weapon. Using it to cut even deeper in to his softness, to that part of him that calls to her. If Alina is terrified of letting the darkness in, then the Darkling is afraid of the light. Of what letting it in might mean for him. Remembering, vaguely, just how horrible hope really feels, when it's ripped away and replaced with bitter disappointment. Remembering how weak wanting makes a man.
He made that mistake with her once before.
As he lifts his eyes to her, staring her down, he will not make it again.] Do you really want to fight me?
[Liquid darkness pools in his hands.]
no subject
[ and there is no mal here for him to weaponize against her. that lonely tear in her heart had felt like a curse aboard the sterile walls of their ship; now, it presents itself as a blessing in disguise. as collared as she knows herself to be, there is no leash for aleksander to yank on to keep her docile and toothless. alina's chin tips upward, clenched in defiance — stern confidence that is bold enough to place importance on his need of her. his tool. his key to the fold. a vital piece in his plans, too important to lose.
her eyes dart to the shadows snaking closer, undulating in his hands like a serpent prepared to strike. the light spilling at her fingertips flares brighter in response, a beacon that pulses in warning — flickering as she finds that stark bloom of a red burn seared into his skin, speckled with his blood. she blinks once, twice, as though being startled from the spell of rage that's overtaken her — before she gathers the strength to steel herself, ignoring the churning satisfaction in her gut. ]
I don't want to fight you. [ her quiet honesty surprises even alina — more than the half-truths that rest beneath it, buried under her confession. yes. she wants nothing more than to fight him, than to feed the ruthlessness of her appetite until she's gluttonous, to have him at her mercy to teach him the true meaning of powerlessness — nearly as much as she longs for an escape to that sickening hunger. at her sides, her fingers tense, furling and unfurling. ] I never wanted any of this.
[ a shake of her head, adamant. want has never changed the course of her life. ]
But you've forced my hand. That's what you would say, isn't it?
[ immediately, she despises the comparison she's made, pressing that thorn of paranoia into her own skin. you sound just like him. the knowledge that she serves to benefit from his injury only curdles fresh nausea in her throat, the light at her fingertips dimming by a fraction. ]
no subject
Her admissions and her wild emotions, and the Darkling watches her, even when the sting in his cheek goes from unpleasant to a stinging, vicious burn. Her light flickering and her hands twitching. His own shadows keep creeping closer, the distance to her feet decreasing fast.]
I offered you a way out.
[To take her powers for himself, and she had declined. Rudely. An offer than would not be given a second time, just like his mercy, it had been a one-time deal and she had chosen the worst possible outcome. One flick of his steady hand and the shadows stop, inches from Alina.
The Darkling raises an eyebrow at her words, how similar they were. How much like him she proved to be, if only she had learned this before... before drastic measured had to be taken. And now he wouldn't need her anymore, his one regret once fixed, would make her whole existence negligible.
This lingering pull towards her, this ache for her, was a weakness he would be glad to let go. Just another sacrifice for Ravka.]
This is still my room. Stand down, Alina, and leave me alone.
no subject
if only it didn't eat at her, guilt gnawing on her bones. maybe he's right, in regarding her as one. maybe she's as sick as he is, after living on his poisonous lies for so long. ]
What you offered me — [ dimly, she's aware of the scene she's causing. no one in the hall could miss the reedy pitch of her voice, rising higher in her indignant rage. alina's nostrils flare, too lost to emotion to care for the attention their fight might draw. ] — was a prison. Stop pretending you did any of this for me.
[ he has made that perfectly clear, then and now. she strikes a hand against her chest, an exclamation of her disbelief that sets her blazing again — like a supernova burning too brightly, too quickly, prone to snuffing itself out. the protective ripple it casts surrounds her, extinguishing the shadows slithering toward her feet. she takes a step back, and then another, keeping him in her watchful view as she gives an adamant shake of her head. leave me alone. she would be a perfect mirror of him, if she refused. no better than aleksander, hunting her down even as she tries to flee from him.
she can't be that. she won't be that. it isn't so much a retreat from him as it is running from herself as she yanks her bag from the bed she had claimed, dispersing dust from its unclean sheets in the process. let him have it, if his pride is so vital to him. (she hates herself more, for daring to be surprised that he would take even this dingy room from her, after he has stolen so much already.) ]
If you want this room so badly — fine. Taking what isn't yours is all you're good at. [ a sharp scowl in his direction, and then: ] I've already gotten what I needed from you, anyway.
[ much as she'll stew in it, later. much as it has made them too similar to use him to fulfill her personal goal. for now, it feels like just another childish way to hurt him as he has hurt her. the book that falls out of her bag, pilfered from one of the rooms old shelves, gets promptly forgotten and ignored as she slings the strap over her shoulder. ]
no subject
[Alina.
Burning and brilliant, her Sun blazes through the room, a mockingly beautiful sight that only she would be able to see. Her shrill words still echoing through the small room, as he closes his eyes against the light. Letting her Small Science wash over him, even through the too-hot heat of it as it flashes over his skin. As her Light turns the darkness behind his lids in to a rose-gold twilight, herself standing out in inverted black.
His words drying out on the tip of his tongue, his own defense of past deeds dying, as the light fades from her, leaving just her behind. The Darkling swallows, the shadows fall back and slither back under the beds.
Stale-mate.
An empty victory, as she gets her things. His own laugh at her turned back rings as hollow as Alina's had done just a few minutes ago, mocking as his eyes leave her to follow the path the book takes.]
You have no idea what you need, Alina. But I do.
no subject
And what's that? [ her eyes narrow in challenge. ] The purpose you chose for me? Your so-called protection?
[ the high walls of the little palace could never shield her from him, secure from all enemies but the one holding the leash to her power. she doesn't wait for his reply before she continues on, refusing to give him the opportunity to tailor pretty promises for her. ]
I don't care. [ a simple, powerful truth. there is nothing he can offer her. there is nothing she needs from him — not in the desperate, consuming way he has collared her to him as a monster to unleash on the world, his guard dog to threaten whoever might invade ravka. ] You are just as powerless here as the rest of us.
[ as much at the whims of whatever contract they've all forged, as indebted by his regret. she brushes by the strange coil in her stomach at the thought that he would harbor guilt or shame at all — emotions too human to reconcile with the cruel lengths he's traveled to achieve his vision. perhaps he only means to manipulate this situation to his advantage, too, as falsely cooperative as he had been with the king — until betrayal had better served his needs. ]
I'll make good use of your gift. [ satisfaction tugs at the corners of her mouth, the mark of a woman who possesses a secret she enjoys lording over him. gift. it can hardly be called that, when the task she had been assigned still sits wrongly on her bones. even as she justifies it; even as she excuses aleksander's injury as a necessary sacrifice, in trade for all of the innocent lives he had taken that day on the fold — all of the innocent lives he'll continue to take, with her in his possession. ] Enjoy your room.
[ with one last look, lingering on the slash burned onto his cheek too long, she strides out into the hallway. ]