MISSION: BRASS DEVIL, PART 2

[ximilian]

● ● ● M I S S I O N   2 . 2

INTRO • IT'S SHOWTIME • A LITTLE PARTY NEVER... • HEIST IT UP • THE DEVIL'S GOT RED EYES • FYI

// INTRO.  

Having spent some time to gather information about each of the families, learn about the history of Braccia, and agree upon the secret location of the Orb in this city, now has come the time for the Orbers to put their strategies into action. Through some fairly impressive in cognito antics while maintaining their respective covers, the Orbers will have split into different factions to help with the ultimate goal: retrieve the orb.

Orbers from Lionetta have decided to organize a distraction and gather as many of their fellow Lionetta members away from the headquarters as possible. Orbers from Featherstone, led by Tony Stark, Bucky Barnes, and River Song, have slowly been pilfering and assembling some of the weaponry and helpful tech. And Orbers from the Ti’shaaz have slowly been adding fuel to the family drama, stoking the flames between the Ti’shaaz and Lionetta families in hopes of invoking a battle on the same night as the planned heist.

Everyone has a good feeling about the work that they’ve done, the collaborative efforts that have brought them to the climax of their time on Braccia. But the night is still young, and there are many things that could go wrong if there is one misstep, one cog out of place in this seemingly well-oiled machine. It is imperative that every Orber pulls their weight in order for the retrieval to go successfully. But that shouldn’t be a problem, right?

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// PART I.IT'S SHOWTIME  

Eventually, the time for preparations is over — the team has to make their move. The orb is waiting for them on the highest floor of the Lionetta main headquarters… all they have to do is get in.

1.0   Several different smaller teams decide to head into the old mines that lie beneath the surface of Braccia’s hustle and bustle. Those who decide to utilise the entrances further away from the Lionetta HQ, in the hopes of using paths less traveled and making it there unnoticed, will find that their journey leads them into complete darkness. Be sure to watch your steps — as the tunnels you take along here are ones that have been long since abandoned; there are pitfalls where the rock has crumbled away, leaving nothing but a chasm behind. There are also crumbling walkways and rotten wood that sag and give out from underneath your feet when you least expect it.

Aside from that though, there are no purposeful traps laid out — nothing visible to your eyes to stop you from advancing.

For those who decide to use the lit pathway leading straight from the headquarters to the fountain and the back alley behind Cherry on Top — well, at least you’ll be able to see where you’re going! However, the first thing you’ll notice are the blinking red lights of security cameras deliberately planted along the pathway … and for those who are not Lionetta, it may get uncomfortable, real fast. There are traps set along the way that only activate if the person trying to walk past is not a Lionetta member. Sharp blades might suddenly drop down on you from above. Spikes may burst out of from the ground like killer daisies. And a part of the pathway that you’re on could break into neat square pieces beneath your feet, crumbling away until you’re falling into nothingness.

Irregardless of which perilous road the Orbers choose to take, you will all eventually be led towards the same location: a golden door stands before them, the words For a better future carved into its surface. And if any of you happen to have a key (or a copy of it) like the one that Jim and Finn found, it’s to your benefit that it fits the lock perfectly. There’s nothing left but to go through, right?

2.0   The mines are not the only way in, of course: anyone with an official badge like the one that Kovacs managed to snag on a night out will have access to the elevator and will be able to call it to ground level, as well as take it up to the walkway. Or go straight to the walkway itself, and you’ll be able to boldly enter through the front doors as anyone with a badge has very little reason to be questioned … for now, anyway.

3.0   Meanwhile, An’alya has been mobilising members of the Ti’shaaz family against the Lionetta and are currently hard at work targeting the magical barrier that surrounds the Lionetta HQ. Eventually, those working at the barriers will begin to feel the magic within them weaken and crumble away in a slow but satisfying moment of victory. This weakened security allows Orbers with teleportation abilities to simply zip themselves inside — and perhaps with a few passengers in tow! Rhysand will have one lizard-shaped passenger alongside him already — An’alya herself has taken the first opportunity she could, leading the charge as she scuttles forward immediately upon entry, leaving the others to follow in her wake.

But while those teleporting in may have it easy, it’s hard to know where to teleport — you’d better hope that it isn’t in the middle of a guard shift change, or the guards’ break room, or a room locked from the outside ...

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// PART II.A LITTLE PARTY NEVER KILLED NOBODY  

A couple of days before the party, a word-of-mouth invitation begins to travel through the members of the Lionetta family about a speakeasy party with food, drink, and most of all: music. The evening is meant to boost morale and bring the family together, pulling both HQs (lower and main) into an event that has little to do with their daily lives and their grueling jobs. Here they can regale each other with their loyalty and bond to their family; to remember the good times as it were. The party venue occupies the entire ground floor of a building nestled among other bars and clubs of what has fondly been referred to as the ‘entertainment district’. No other signage on the exterior of the building indicates that anything special is happening as the event is very much exclusive.

4.0   When you enter the hall, it’s to the sound of brass and percussion and a male’s singing voice to the tune of something you might have heard before. The makeshift stage is set with speakers and lights and a place for a band to really show the room what they’re made of. There are drinks and bits of food and a small crowd of people have already gathered to enjoy the festivities with a greater crowd expected to fill the room for a good time. It might not be anything to the level of Cheri’s birthday gala, particularly when the theme of the party is to celebrate Lionetta, but it’s an impressive feat all the same and the people here have been promised a good time.

Newly recruited member, Newt, is on stage behind a piano with a couple of other locals not associated with any family in particular who have all had to quickly (but enthusiastically) learn a new set of songs for the evening, music from ‘far away cities’. Joined on stage by another new recruit is The Doctor (11) who has a microphone in one hand and appears to be crooning a rather unrecognizable (by this world’s standards) tune. If you spent any time on Earth during the 1980s, you might recognize it though. It’s very catchy.

5.0   The evening seems to go without a hitch, attracting a large part of the Lionetta family to join the festivities through word of mouth. Everyone is just here to have a good time! As the crowd grows, Majima can be found on the floor keeping the party going by refilling the glasses of family members, while making sure no one gets just a little too out of hand. The music continues, the chatter grows louder, and the laughs and sloppy dancing increases with the hours. Sometime after midnight, when the hours feel a little late, you might find some of the Lionetta members trying to tap into their communications devices with the slow and sloppy realization that they haven’t been operating for … how long has it even been? A while now, right? Some of the members can be found shuffling out of the party in confusion, while others shrug a shoulder and go back to the festivities. Suddenly, someone comes back into the room and yells:

’What the fuck’s going on here? My car’s been tampered with! Can anyone else get to HQ? My goddamned comms won’t work.’

There is a flurry of panicked confusion and Lionetta members pausing in their drinking and dancing to check whether what’s been shouted is true. It looks like the ruse might be up. Will you pretend to be like the rest of the family and act accordingly? Confused and unaware of the plot you’ve cooked up? Or will you come clean and try to find an escape route — perhaps helped by those who, on the outside, have been hard at work making sure the cars aren't in driveable condition.

6.0   As if things hadn’t been chaotic enough, all members of the Lionetta family, including any Lionetta Orbers, will hear a sharp, piercing static crackle through your communications devices as Lionetta members seem to have finally found a way to hack their way through the comms-blocking tech that had been keeping them out. Olexa’s voice cuts in and out and it’s clear she’s been trying to reach her family for a few minutes now. Harsh and commanding, there’s a moment of steady audio that comes through every device in the room as Olexa speaks:

OLEXA

— I repeat, Lionetta HQ is under a goddamned attack! The Ti’shaaz have infiltrated, and they are looking to attack any one of our family members. Arm yourselves, protect our headquarters!

If you haven’t made a decision to stay or leave just yet, you’ll find yourself trapped with the other Lionetta as the doors crash open and colourful blasts of magic are aimed at the partygoers and ricochet off of the venue space. Robed members of the Ti’shaaz family crowd the entrance and start to filter in, officially crashing the party and ending the festivities with violence. The Lionetta, however, won’t be cowed to submission and they quickly gather their wits about them to fight back, throwing punches and swinging kicks to try and disarm the other family, dodging their magical strikes.

Here you have a few options: whether you’re Lionetta or Ti’shaaz, you can stay and fight and keep members of both families occupied, or you can find a way out to join your fellow Orbers at Lionetta’s main HQ for the heist.

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// PART III.HEIST IT UP  

7.0   The smaller team that make it inside first will be the one to hit the control room, revealed in the blueprints to be located on the 20th floor — and whether by teleportation or entry by badge, they are let in through the door… but the room is far from empty. There’s an awkward split second as you exchange glances with the guards inside, and then they come charging for you. When the guards have been incapacitated in whatever manner the team deems fit (depending on their level of thirst for blood), they’ll quickly have the opportunity to get the rest of the team in position for the remainder of the heist. Those with a talent for hacking will be able to access the security system without too much difficulty, shutting the cameras off, or programming them on a loop that should hopefully fool anyone looking at the footage elsewhere.

8.0   However, as the other Orbers slowly begin to infiltrate the headquarters, now unseen by any cameras, an alarm blares out, loud and insistent. It seems that the use of the stolen badge has finally been registered and the family have been alerted. Evgen, the officer who the badge belonged to, had immediately reported the missing identification … and unfortunately its use has instantly triggered the alarm system. Oops.

Lionetta officers begin to swarm the hallways and the elevator will immediately shut down (hopefully you’re not inside it as it stops between Level 13 and 14!), so the only way to move forward now is by foot.

Those on the lower floors will find that while there are no traps set in the hallways, the space is now filled with Lionetta guards and officers, all armed with a myriad of weapons: standard issue guns, certainly, but also stun guns, revolvers with bullets that have been enchanted to follow their target, and staves and knives with energy blades that crackle and glow with white light. A number of the officers here are also highly competent in hand-to-hand combat — and though some, like Petra and Mikaela, might be dressed in attire more suited for a party than a battle, they shouldn’t be underestimated. Without effort, they can (and will) make a hair pin, a brooch, or a stiletto heel a deadly weapon. Officers who have familiarity with any of the Lionetta Orbers will advance with an especially personal viciousness — traitors, after all, are not kindly looked upon and deserve the worst punishments.

9.0   In contrast to the lower levels, Orbers on the 20th floor and upwards seem to be herded into a narrow hallway with only one direction: forward. At the end of the path is a set of stairs leading to the next level up and onward, each ascension designed to be slow and deliberate with the flight of steps on alternating sides of the building. The only way to get there is to cross the length of the floor’s footprint.

From Level 20-23, guards and officers meet you in a battle round.

On Level 24 the floor is suspiciously devoid of anyone. Before you can think to turn back, every entrance is sealed with heavy, reinforced steel walls, and a roar that reminds you of the ocean sends a prickle up the length of your spine as the entire floor begins to flood with water. Slowly but surely, it rushes in from all sides to fill the space and unless you have the ability to grow gills … how will you escape? Maybe the how doesn’t matter — only that you do.

On the 25th floor, it becomes apparent to you that the air has a slightly luminous, greenish tint to it … but by the time you open your mouth to warn the others, it’s already in your lungs. It won’t take long before you begin to imagine enemies all around you: sudden attacks are coming out of nowhere, guards aiming their guns at you, alien creatures from the fighting ring snapping their jaws and throwing kicks and punches, clawed fingers trying to grasp at your face. You lash out at them in desperation — and, unfortunately, whoever is in their place in reality.

If you happen to make it past Level 25 unscathed, perhaps breathing in the gaseous substance on Level 26 will be what affects you: pouring out from pin-pricked holes in the walls like pores and colouring the air purple, its potency is much greater than the green mist from the previous floor. Instead of enemies, you are surrounded by the people you miss from home, those who might have been passed in your timeline. They ask you to stay with them, plead with you that they’re worried what might happen if you keep going — they murmur, please, just stay with me here and I’ve missed you so much. From an outside perspective, the sight won’t be so heartwarming: anyone observing you with a clear mind will notice a light purplish frost has started to cover your skin as though slowly encasing you in its substance …

With the aid of magic, air bubbles, or the antidote carefully nicked from the Featherstones, you somehow manage past the deadly, magical traps … only the dangers are hardly over. On Levels 27 and 28 sharp, red laser lines that criss-cross the hallways fill the remainder of the room — only those truly confident in their skill and agility can make it across unassisted. For the less coordinated, however, there is still hope: maybe you are one of the Featherstones and were equipped with the reflection tech made specifically for a situation like this one … or, if you can quickly gain contact (use that network!) with the others in the control room, they can do something about these lasers — if they aren’t still occupied with the Lionetta officers currently trying to take their control room back, anyway.

Finally, making it to the second-to-highest level, you will come face to face with two giant dog-like creatures… with glittering collars around their necks, each with a small tag to identify them. They are Ursa and Altair, respectively. Surely you were prepared for this, right? If you’re a Lionetta, you may be familiar with the alien-dogs and have a better chance of getting past them. If you dare to approach, however, you’ll notice that the ground surrounding them is a crimson mess of fresh blood. They’ve clearly had their dinner already… and the eager looks in their eyes can only be read as such: are you going to be their dessert?

Past the dogs and their matted fur and sharp teeth, there lies the entrance to the top floor — an entrance that only opens through facial recognition … strange, however is the scaly frost that has spread all over the scanner, leaving it non-functional — and the door… wide open.

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// PART IV.THE DEVIL'S GOT RED EYES  

As the two Orbers who have managed to make it before the others sneak towards the door and the stairs that lead up, they will hear two voices: female, both of them, one strained and quiet, like speaking is a struggle; the other, lilting and sugar-sweet.

● ● ●

“So, you’ve been running all this all along?”

“Why yes. Never crossed your pretty head, did it? My Lexie’s been doing such a wonderful job, you see, no wonder you were fooled. And now you’re going to die for it… just like Dnria.”

The two Orbers continue to creep towards the open door, careful not to be heard or detected. It’ll be a strange scene that opens towards them: a dark office, wooden floors looking far older than the building itself must be — expensive furniture, and all of it is lit with a red glow.

In the middle of it all —

“Just like Dnria H’ia? Ha… what an honour, to die like her. Bested by the same person. Ti’shaaz was right to be wary of you, Ruvia.”

An’alya lies on the floor, eyes blood-shot, a trickle of blood staining the side of her mouth. She’s trembling, breathing heavily, like behind every breath is unimaginable pain.

“Oh, honey, don’t think I gave you permission to call me by that nickname. It’s Cheruvia to you.”

Next to An’alya, her red eyes glowing just as bright as the round object that orbits her head in a slow circle, is Cheri...

… or perhaps that should be rephrased. Next to the fallen gang leader stands not the sweet, cheerful club owner, but Ruvia Alonetti: the owner of the Braccia orb, and the founder of the Lionetta family.

Whatever you do next… it's best to be careful. It will crucial to have a plan — because somehow that orb needs to leave this room with you.

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F Y I

• The events in this log take place ICly during one evening, but OOCly it spans the first two weeks of October.

• The ultimate conclusion of the mission and the return to the station will be posted on October 16.

• If you have questions about anything in this log, please direct them HERE.

• And finally, your soundtrack for this log: ♪ ♪ ♪

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▶ NAV

Comments

[business]

( really, he's faced actual kittens with more venom in their claws than alina — her words only penetrate his skin deep hide, as deep as her nails sink into him. he knows this isn't her. or — it is, but it isn't. if her hate is his deserved reward for not allowing her the chance to hurt herself, then he'll hold it in hands he forces to be grateful, because at least she'll be alive. not that he necessarily knows what will happen to her if she reaches the space her imaginary mal takes up, but rhysand can't imagine it'll be good with how the purple engulfs her. getting encased never feels like a good idea, unless it's a mud bath with a foot massage.

they both know she isn't a match for him in terms of strength — but her power? rhysand has no doubt she could burn right through him, with every possibility of never recovering. still, his arm stays steady around her, the barest hiss of a breath falling out of his mouth as her hands heat up. hotter and hotter, until his spilled blood feels like it's boiling. shit. she really is powerful.

but, glancing down, he sees that it chases away the fog of purple, plenty more successful than rhysand's waving hands. interesting. well — )

At least try to remember your training. Shields up. Now.

( despite the instruction, he has no reason to believe alina will listen. in fact — because it's alina, he has every reason to believe she won't. steeling himself in the event of her attack, rhysand plants his feet firmly on the ground, bracing. her inner thoughts are worse. betrayed. again. of course they're easily comparable, but the blow of it nearly knocks the wind from his lungs. )

You think you can land a blow? Since I'm such a traitor. Fine. Go ahead, Alina. Just try to hurt me. ( if she uses her power, maybe it'll keep more of her safe from the spread. if not — he can handle a hit or two. he'll handle more than that, if he needs to. ) Use your brain. If Mal is here, why isn't he fighting me off you? It doesn't make sense, because it isn't real. We are on a mission that is getting completely fucked up, and you need to get your head straight.

[peasant]

You're forgetting one thing: I don't take orders from you.

[ use your brain. the fatal flaw in that wisdom is simple: aleksander has muddied those waters so thoroughly that her perception feels murky. the trust she had once had in herself is only another part of her he had sullied and stolen away. alina drags in a wobbling inhale, notably wavering, hands trembling against his skin. it does make little that the mal in front of her hasn't moved, only seems to shimmer and shift like a mirage in her peripherals every time she looks away, but —

she shakes her head, dispelling that trance. incensed, suddenly, with the words that bleed between the lines of what he says. stupid girl. he must wear all of the same disappointment baghra surely feels in her for being caught so easily — and he certainly shares the same condescension that runs in baghra's bloodline. alina grits her teeth together so harshly she can feel them grind, her indignation an inferno that's only fueled by her self-loathing. ]

Do you ever shut up, you smug —

[ fool. bastard. prick. a thousand petty, childish blades she could aim at him. instead, she whips her head back, abrupt and forceful, to try to crack him in the nose with the impact of her skull. as amateur as she might be in combat, keramzin has taught her valuable life lessons: fairness has no place in a fight, and you don't need to be the stronger opponent, so long as you're scrappy and clever about it. ]

[business]

( as it turns out, all those many jokes cassian has made about rhysand getting soft in the fighting arena? not entirely false. )

Ow.

( he's expecting the fiery blows from her hands with such intensity, such preamble and invented fortitude, he forgets what a thick skull she has. swinging back, it cracks his nose with a mortifying crunch, rhysand immediately loosening his grip on her from the surprise of the attack. the pain is secondary, sinking in after a moment — nothing's broken, but even if it was, he's definitely had worse. it's nothing he can't handle.

worse still is the embarrassment of getting decked in such a way. thank all the stars cassian wasn't here to witness it, or he'd have them running suicide sprints in the mud for a fortnight. reeling back, rhys keeps one hand fisted in her kefta at the side, while his other moves to pinch his nostrils, looking for blood. )

Good — good attack. Very nice. Good. ( he gives a hard yank on her kefta, back into him, seeing the fuzz of purple start to leave her. that's —

well, that's great. a somewhat feral smile curves up his lips, his upper lip decorated in a slash of crimson. ) You did it. Lina?

[peasant]

[ with that single pull, she stumbles into the solid pillar his body creates, seething out a hiss between her teeth. like a kitten, hauled back in by the scruff of its neck and weakly mewling its displeasure. mal blurs in the distance, blinking in and out of view as all specters do, intangible and haunting; alina furiously shakes her head again in some attempt to banish it back from the depths of whatever nightmare this place has pulled it from, uncertain if it's been summoned by the purple frost still weakly clinging to her skin —

or the dull throb in the base of her skull. ow is right. for a moment, her vision swims with bleary pain as she presses her palms to her eyes. anything to block out blood pooling from mal's mouth, dragging crimson trails next to that mutilated corpse of the stag, in front of her. if nothing else, it confirms that rhys had been right from the start. trying to bite back a whimper, she lifts a hand to weakly shove at rhys, even knowing he'll remain sturdy, unmoved as stone. ]

Rhys, you can't stay here. I can't — [ control it, or control herself. not with the automatic defense her sunlight has taken against the invading chill of a purple winter. she can feel her own blood boil as it flares hotter, now trying to burn through the last remnants of ice coating her skin, uncaring of what it might scorch in the process. through her exhaustion, she finds the strength to nudge him again, a little more desperately. ] I told you I don't want to hurt you. Stop being a stubborn fool and go.

[business]

Say that again.

( alina's push feels like a light breeze against wind, rhysand standing his ground, immovable as a mountain. his smile drops as quickly as it had risen up on his face, a look of serious intensity now assuming control of his features. in part because he was given an instruction which rustles his proverbial feathers, and in part because alina is pushing him away with her words, too. alina is winning, she's beating it. can't she see that? how can she have such little faith in her own abilities?

decidedly, he stays out of her head. this is her battle, her chance to overcome and become stronger in mind, in her powers, in herself. her moment that rhysand bare witness to, and he's proud for it. she's stronger than she knows, and rhys — is pissed, honestly. at her doubt. )

Tell me I can't stay with you. Say that. ( still, he dutifully releases her kefta, instead tucking his hands into his pockets. the little wounds on his forearm have already cleared, leaving smeared dots of blood in their memory. ) Because you've apparently forgotten every promise we've made to each other, so why don't I remind you? I'm not leaving. That is not who I am, and you will not make me into that person. If you burn, I am burning with you — so rather than all that, defeat this. Do it because you have to. Do it because there is no other option. Do it because you can, Alina.

[peasant]

[ saints, his lecturing really does remind her of baghra. though — rhys has traded the incessant whacking of a cane for a more crippling blow. alina's expression crumples as the verbal impact strikes her in the chest, torn somewhere between offense and hurt. ]

I haven't forgotten anything. Don't say that to me.

[ she has only ever wanted him to stay, but — not at the cost of himself, something too valuable to place into the line of her fire. wearing a sulking frown, alina's shoulders curl forward — defensive, trying to curl in on herself like a wilting flower, away from rhys' bladed accusation and the searing heat licking up her insides. she only gets so far as tilting into the wall, leveling herself by slapping a palm against its metal caging. ]

I care about you. [ there's no denying the truth of it, with how convicted she is in throwing it down between them like a gauntlet. angling herself to the side, she slants her forehead against cool metal. beads of sweat gather on her forehead from trying to place a harness around her power, an unruly beast in the aftermath of the amplifier, straining against its leash. against the wall, her hands brace themselves. ] Is that so terrible of me? That I would want to keep you safe?

[ even from me. novokribirsk burns behind her eyelids once she pinches them closed, screams of terror piercing her eardrums as though she's summoned kirigan's suffocating darkness into this room to consume them again. his plans, her failure to stop it. their fault, and her guilt, shouldering the remorse that the darkling refuses to carry. she tears them back open in a ragged gasp scratching its way up her throat. ]

So many people have hurt you. [ amarantha. more, if he can condemn himself as a monster, demon. as though he's been told he's unworthy of, devoid of, any goodness time and time again. perhaps it's easier for him to believe he deserves any pain he might endure. ] I won't become another name on that list.

[ but ... maybe that's the point. maybe that's motivation itself, to not allow him to sacrifice himself for this. to not allow that what if to become a reality. ]

I'm trying my best. I'm trying, but I — I'm scared. [ the fear does nothing but force her light to fluctuate wildly, fizzling out every lightbulb in the room. absorbing it, until — she grits her teeth, tamping down on it, trying to reign it in for good. she flickers with every wavering attempt, chest heaving from her labored breaths. ] But mostly, I'm afraid I don't know what I am capable of.

[ whether it's taking control of the power kirigan had stolen from her, or — the horrible consequences for all of her shortcomings. rhys might have unfaltering faith in her, but he doesn't know how she had failed so horribly, that day on the skiff. ]

[business]

( he watches her flutter like a moth caught inside of a lampshade, looking for lenience in the walls, in nature itself, from preventing its wings from getting singed. tasting power and running from it, afraid of the control, and afraid of the lack of it. he stays firmly rooted in place, shoulders hunched and head tipped back, hardly flinching as the lightbulbs pop like little clouds of fairydust all around them. infuriatingly, he just looks interested, turning his gaze up to the dulling light.

but it's not really dulling. alina is just making her own, this spouting, spewing thing. fueled by electricity, artificial light made pure.)

You could never hurt me. ( he gives one hard shake of his head. ) Physical pain is meaningless, it's nothing. Do you know why Amarantha could never break me, not fully? Because she was never kind. There was never any illusion about what our arrangement was. If she'd bothered to be sneaky about it, bothered to lie and try to manipulate me, maybe I would've been tricked to her side. But why would she bother, when I was less than nothing to her? Why try? ( he tosses his shoulders like he wants to throw up his hands in anger, but they remain firmly in his pants pockets. ) You name does not belong in the same sentence as hers. I never, ever want to hear you compare yourselves again, because Alina? You could never hurt me that way. You could never do the things she did, say the words she spoke to me. You? You are incapable of that kind of pain. And I am not frightened of you.

( it's only a moment of hesitation before he steps forward, unhinging his hands and putting them pointedly to alina's, despite any flickering burn of her powers than might singe his skin. he doesn't blink, doesn't bat an eye. )

You're capable of many great, powerful things. Probably horrible, scary things too. ( he squeezes her hands hard, the crux of what he needs her to understand. ) But I'm not scared of you. Not because you cannot do evil things, but because you won't. Because you're good, little glow worm. Because the sun is huge and terrifying, but it's the reason why we have day, why we can look upon things with beauty.

Reign it in, Alina. Tamp it down. The sun gives way for the night, remember? It's nighttime. Let me in.

[peasant]

[ physical pain can never be meaningless, as the conduit it is for grisha power. a thwap of a cane, the prick of a finger — the agony of revisiting her memories in a new light. it stirs now, not born from the story of her own life — but the tale rhysand writes for her, penned in the blood of his sacrifices, sealed by his torment at the hands of amarantha. how long can the body sustain a beating before that agony seeps down into the soul? how many bones must be broken before the heart fractures, too? if she pressed a healer's hands to those little fissures, asked his insides where they ache, she knows what they would whisper back: everywhere, everywhere, everywhere.

something in her chest cracks. something in her soul rages. alina's light shudders restlessly between her ribcage, searching for justice she can't grant it, an outlet it can't find. it sets her fingers into wobbling in his grip, like her skeleton can barely contain what wants to burst forward, hands alight and scorching. like sifting a palm over hot coals, before she tears from his grip.

only to throw her arms around his neck, curling herself into the front of his body. a palm quickly presses upon his neck to guide his head down and into her shoulder, where she tries to bow over him as a shield would — knowing the corecloth of her kefta will defend him not only from the slice of splitting glass, but the last embers of her heated skin. she can't shed even a tear without it sizzling on her skin, drying instantly — but the shine is still there in her eyes once the last embers of her power flicker out.

her skin still feels warm to the touch, like the fresh fever that comes with purging poison, when she teeters back. hastily, she paws at his face, his neck, searching for any slices and scrapes. and, more than that, some confirmation that he isn't an illusion. ]

I'm sorry. I should have known — [ that you would never do that. she chokes on it, ashamed and anxious, even as she intensely inspects his face, running panicked fingertips over its smooth surface. her expression crumbles, all of her held together by a fraught string when she asks, small and watery, ] You're really here?