◣ OPEN ◢ HATCHING LOG 001

[raiamods]

WHO: All PCs
WHAT: New characters arrive on Ethyraia, get interrogated, and settle in at the basecamp.
WHEN: May 21 onward
WHERE: Basecamp Leviathan
NOTES/WARNINGS: Potential character nudity, violence, trypophobia (images) as well as light mentions of gore, alcohol and drug-use, light aphrodisiac effects (optional), and references to mass death.

HATCHING LOG 001 ❀

CONTENT WARNINGS: potential character nudity, violence, trypophobia (images) as well as light mentions of gore, alcohol and drug-use, light aphrodisiac effects (optional), and references to mass death.

Players who participated in our TDM are welcome to keep their CR and the content of those threads. Please make sure to chat this out on the OOC intro & CR meme before making assumptions. Please take your time reading the hatching and basecamp bullets, as some items have been altered or expanded.

❀ HATCHING

Congrats, you've woken up in an egg. I'm sure this is exactly how you wanted to spend your Saturday, right? There's no time to get curious and check out the other egg sacs. By the time you've fought your way out of the membranous sac, spilled electric blue goop everywhere, wiped it out of your eyes and sundry other orifices to get your bearings, you have a spear (or a gun) leveled at your face, throat, or other vital organs. Even if you might be inclined to fight, you can barely lift your arms to protest being grabbed and dragged off. Before you can even get a word in edgewise, you've been thrown into a holding cell.

Characters will not have a chance to retrieve their items at the time of the first hatching, and may not even know there is anything left in the remaining eggs.

The holding cell stinks of something sour and acidic, like rotted citrus, but you are not alone. Several other detainees sit in similar squalid confusion, dressed strangely and equally gooey. Time to make nice, ask questions... figure out what the hell is going on, and maybe do something about all that slime?

Over the next few days, a few things become clear. Despite the alien greeting, your captors speak a language that you understand, and the unpleasant circumstances are revealed to be a matter of necessity, not choice. Supplies are low, but they ensure that the new arrivals' time imprisoned is as painless as can be — they offer hot communal showers of less than three minutes, some strange starchy meal-replacement, and medical treatment to those in need. You might strike up a conversation with your new best friend in the shower over a low soap dispenser or when you realize you might need to share towels.

The cost of these luxuries comes in the form of touch-and-go interrogation by the security officers keeping tabs on the cells and supervising the shower time.

A few notes:

☆ Your character may get pulled away for interrogation at some point. No torture, no drugs; just questioning. If you would like to thread this out, please reply to CAPT CHILDE'S top level comment! A caveat: threads will not go beyond (TEN) NPC replies, and new tag-ins will not be responded to after MAY 24.

☆ Locals will be stopping by outside the freestanding holding cells to ogle or ask questions. Are you really going to be mean to that little kid staring at you with wide eyes?

☆ Characters will be let out for bio breaks. No one has to pee in a bucket, that's just inhumane!

☆ Attempts to escape will probably get you tasered. If your character composes a genius jailbreak, you are welcome to submit it in the MOD QUESTION comment to work out how that might go with the NPCs!

❀ EXPLORE THE BASECAMP

On the heels of a little benign interrogation, a medical inspection, and a stern talking to by Captain Childe, the survivors at Basecamp Leviathan determine one thing: you don't appear to be an active threat.

Released from the detention center after three days, you are given the run-down by the locals — you're on a planet called Ethyraia, and the people around you are survivors of the catastrophic crash of the UCSS Adamant several years prior. You, in fact, showed up on the third anniversary of the crash. Weird coincidence, huh?

The first order of the day is having a proper meal at the mess hall — some of the Adamant's survivors will be friendlier than others. They've been stranded here for years, remember? Some of them will be so desperate to talk to someone who has news of other places, and some will be giving you the cold shoulder.

You'll be fed the same as the rest of them. A plastic plate of crumbled protein of unidentifiable origin and gravy over rice with a single wilted stalk of broccoli and a cup of the worst coffee you've ever had. Maybe somebody bumps into you and spills said coffee, maybe you make it all the way to one of the long tables set out for communal eating.

Time to strike up a chat with your neighbor — maybe ask them to pass the salt?

(What do you mean, there's no salt!?)

During this time, characters will be able to return to the Central Chrysalis where they hatched. While there are no clues as to how they got there, they might find items — their own, or someone else's. Everyone is strapped for supplies, but try not to snatch up anything that isn't yours. The security officers don't look kindly on people chasing one other down the hall, trying to get back their dirty magazines.

A few notes:

☆ Feel free to help out anywhere. Every little bit of assistance you offer to the locals will raise their estimation of you. You could easily help clean dishes after the meal, help fix leaky piping or repair hammocks. You could stop by the aid station and assist with the wounded. You'll be watched closely and some of the survivors will be warier than others, but most will appreciate the opportunity to have a 'break'.

☆ If your character leaves the basecamp and wanders outside the Leviathan, they may begin to notice that what they perhaps took as a giant cave is actually an enormous dragon. Everything that seems human-made will look varying levels of worn down, patched, repaired and patched again. This is not a place of prosperity and happiness. Many people are recently injured, or have new scars or missing limbs.

☆ PCs will be warned about the acid rain and inhospitable wildlife that they'll face if they venture beyond the shade of the dragon's wings.

❀ RECRUITMENT FAIR

You've been here for a week, had a chance to show your mettle. Maybe you've demonstrated a propensity for fixing gadgets (or plumbing!) or you have the command of a natural leader and the ability to wield a gun (or a tire iron!) to great effect. Either way, the Adamant's survivors are eager to put you to work so they can have their first real 'days off' in three years! Survivors have set up their various areas in the hopes of catching your attention and (possibly!) bolster their numbers! Feel free to wander around, talk to other PCs, and get the lay of the land.

ENGINEERING CORPS

Thorkil has welded a sign to a post out front, cheerfully painted by a gaggle of children to say "WELCOME!" The children are crowded around the area, and Thorkil is telling them stories about one of his many tattoos as you approach — he has a magnificent eagle tattooed on his arm, and in a hush he is explaining how it landed on him and tried to bite him like a mosquito, and how he slapped it and it just splattered right there on his arm and he's never been able to wash it off!

The children seem mesmerized by the story (maybe you are too?) and will scatter at the story's conclusion, tugging you over to the various areas, pointing things out excitedly. What is an Ehlers-Chau sublight engine? You're about to find out whether you like it or not! Or maybe you can teach them a thing or two. Those who seem to know their stuff will be eagerly invited on board by Thorkil.

The Engineering division has salvaged its tools and scrap from the Adamant’s wreckage, so it has all of the essentials from metal mills to CNC routers to circuitry tools. A holo projector throws schematics on the wall — a drill, a few potential shelter ideas for long-term settlement, and a new communications tower.

SECURITY DIVISION

Rémi has barely deigned to participate — and seems to have done so only at the request of some of his companions. He's sitting at an unadorned table and he is cleaning a variety of weapons. He will scowl if approached, and seems openly mistrustful of your intentions should you speak to him. Questions about how a conversation with Rémi might go may be posted to the MOD QUESTIONS thread. (Note: We will not be threading Rémi, so these questions will be handwaved!)

Characters who make a positive impression on him will open up the avenue to work for the Security Division later, but he will not be extending any offers now — please allow for a realistic period of development here!

Feel free to lean into another PC's space and comment on how frosty that dude seems! You can also survey the various weapons stored in racks, help out with building spears, the usual suspects.

THEATRE

The theatre doubles as a childcare center, and many of the NPCs bustling about seem very excited and eager for the chance to talk to anyone who ventures in to visit. The theatre is bright and cheerful, paintings have been done on the walls of scenes from children's stories featuring colorful characters.

The thespians will not only try to recruit you (for acting in a play, for teaching, for script writing, for drawing on the walls or caring for children) but they will actively put you to work if they see you standing idle longer than a moment! Your character may find themselves with a paintbrush in hand, or taking part in a recital for a play (you're free to invent one, or put a new spin on an old classic! Romeo and Julio, anyone?) or building a set piece for one of the many local productions.

The Theatre doubles as the protective hub in times of need, so beyond arts education and babysitting, your character may also be tasked with shoring up those defenses, helping to fortify the walls, or other such tasks. And who knows, they may be paired off with someone else rather unexpectedly!

AID STATION

Sunya Hyacinth is the local medical doctor, fueled by coffee and spite. She doesn't have the time to recruit personally — she's flitting about the aid station seeing to the injured.

If you follow her, she will put you to work. Hold this stent, articulate this dislocation, take this blood pressure reading. If anyone appears to have a proficiency for this sort of work, she may inquire after credentials — and anyone who seems to have medical experience is going to immediately be handed the medic's armband, a white band with a blue cross emblazoned on it. This armband will grant any PC an extra amount of respect and trust from the Adamant's survivors — but you'd better be able to live up to it!

Feel free to treat any injured PCs, converse with other 'recruits', help pin that white and blue arm-band on... you know, anything under the sun. Some of the patients in the medical bay seem to be suffering from the adverse effects of some of the local flora — itching hives or burning pustules. One unfortunate soul seems only able to speak in limericks, which the medical staff will admit is one of the odder things they’ve seen.

SANITATION

CONTENT WARNING: DRUG REFERENCES

It's a dirty job, but somebody's gotta do it! There are always latrines to be dug, pipes to be repaired, general maintenance to be done on the various sanitation systems.

A nervous-looking janitor will approach your character almost shyly, and ask if you wouldn't mind giving her a hand. If you are willing to help her (fix a pipe, dig a hole, etc), she will gradually warm up to you and seem more animated and lively and very, very grateful. Won't you please consider working with the Sanitation crew? Sure, it's not as glamorous as some of the other duties, but they're the backbone of the Basecamp and they could really use the help!

She'll even let you in on a little secret if you really butter her up or show an interest — the Sanitation Crew? Totally has a little underground greenhouse where they're growing marijuana. They're totally willing to share...

Feel free to dig latrines alongside your fellow PCs, or maybe even share a joint. It's a way to pass the time, right? PCs serving in sanitation will also have an easier time overhearing the gossip that spreads around the base, since no one looks twice at them.

COMMUNITY OUTREACH

CONTENT WARNING: REFERENCES TO MASS DEATH

During their first two weeks in the basecamp, any character who stops by one of the various houses of worship (in addition to a church, a synagogue, and a mosque, there is a temple with small statues to fifteen different unfamiliar deities, many of whom seem to be from different faiths), the gymnasium, or the mess hall will come across a stand that hosts a dozen or so packages.

Wrapped in the black emergency blankets that many bring with them to and from the bunks, these packages are about one cubic foot and contain folded clothes in roughly the same sizes. The styles are all different and highly individualized. Some are luxe, some are basic, and some are clearly the undershirt (but not the proper outerwear) for uniforms of the Adamant’s crew. Warm-faced folks eagerly give out a single package to each new hatchling. Along with the clothing and blanket, hatchlings will receive basic packages containing basic toiletries — bar soap, a toothbrush, a straight razor, etc.

Come by at the wrong time, and you might see a fight break out. A young person, red-faced, shouts at the volunteers working these stands, “Those were our people! Our families! We should be the one to decide what’s done with what they left behind.”

In hushed tones, clearly trying to keep this from becoming a conflict, the lead volunteer insists, “Take it up with Captain Childe.”


A few notes:

☆ Feel free to have your character sign on to help out with any of the listed divisions, with the exception of security.

☆ Characters may collect one (1) care package from the community outreach program. If your character intends to come back for more, please let us know in the Mod Questions thread.

☆ Feel free to ask for light NPC interactions in the MOD QUESTIONS header; we can give you a general idea of how a conversation might go! Like with the Captain Childe threads, none of these threads will be lengthy, and new tag-ins will not be responded to after MAY 24.

❀ THE DREAMING

You are standing at the edge of an immense, underground lake. Water laps at the shore, echoing in the cavern. There is a sense of peace and warmth and — welcome.

A creature emerges from the lake and approaches you. Its gills flutter, its eyes are a faint bioluminescent glow in the darkness. It reaches out to touch you — one long, elegant finger presses against your chest. It feels as if it might crack your sternum open and ferret beneath your bones as if looking, looking for something. Yet, there is no malice from it, and you feel no fear.

But the creature relents. It backs up. Bows to you once, and then turns and walks back into the water.

You stay for some time at the edge of the lake. Eventually, it seems as if another person is here with you, or perhaps they simply came into focus after being here just as long as you. Should you speak with them?

A few notes:

☆ PCs may interact with one another in the dreams. They will be in a semi-conscious state, not wholly aware they are dreaming and not wholly under the impression of its normalcy.

☆ Your character will wake up naturally from the Dreaming, they will feel peaceful and refreshed.
The lake, if they choose to swim in it while dreaming, would be perceived as the perfect ambient temperature for them — some characters may prefer it to be warmer or colder!

☆ If they duck below the water, they will see far-off glittering city lights, but no matter how they try to swim towards them they will never get any closer!

☆ If your character tries to drink the water, they might notice that for a few minutes after they wake they can hear little snippets of NPC thoughts. Weird!

☆ Every character will have a small, pale lilac mark where they were touched on the chest. It will fade over the next few days.

❀ FETCH QUEST

CONTENT WARNING: REFERENCES TO LIGHT APHRODISIAC EFFECTS

A small, perky woman corrals you somewhere near the latrines. "Hey!" she says insistently, pushing her hat back and sending a spill of inky curls askew from her forehead. "We need a hand. There's this plant we get for Sunya — the Doc? You met her yet? — it's a painkiller. Go through a shitload of that, which I'm sure is quite surprising," she says all this in a single breath, and her expression is sour despite her cheery tone.

"You any good at botany? We need another round of Starspire root. Can't harvest the ones we've got in camp, they've been a little cranky lately. You'll have to go about four kilometers due west, towards the old Adamant wreck. Just watch them — if they start to sweat, you'll need to get under cover, means the acid rain is coming. I'll upload the specs to your Comm."

Seems like you're being partnered with somebody else for the run — another person looking perhaps about as equally haggard as you, and at least as equally voluntold. Hopefully you won't run into any difficulties — how hard can retrieving one plant be?

A few notes:

☆ Feel free to have random monster encounters along the way! Don’t forget to wait for approvals on bestiary submissions before incorporating them into threads.

☆ The plants are at a high elevation, so they will exist on rocky outcroppings along a cliff-face. The landscape here is mostly high desert, which means it is full of thin, calf-high grasses, scrub plants, and non arable land polluted by dense, alkaline soil and rocks. Be creative in how you get there!

☆ Somebody gets hurt? Here, chew this root! They said it was a painkiller, right? What's the worst that could happen? (People can get a little ... flirtatious, shall we say.)

☆ Or you could go one step further and try exploring portions of the Adamant! Remember, the ship itself was built to house seventy thousand people — it's the size of a city, and it cannot be adequately explored in an afternoon! If you'd like anything specific to come of this, or if you’d like to know specifics about the Adamant’s layout, please consider submitting a plot request!.

NAVIGATION ❀

Comments

[sunmon]

[ is it really a request? is anything from him ever really a request, or is it just a declaration of intent?

the child has come back around, cautious and pouting because she had expected alina to chase her. she reaches out to pull on alina's kefta hem, and alina turns, finding her smile. she crouches and hands over the rag. ]

Get yourself cleaned up. Renata will look after you while I'm gone, and I'll be back again tomorrow. [ the child nods judiciously. alina straightens and in turn nods to kirigan, feeling just as small, just as childlike, next to him.

gathering her resolve, she slips her hand through his arm and leads the way. ]

[morozova]

You have a way with them, the children.

( though given her background, perhaps this shouldn't surprise him. what does surprise him is that they are so willing to entrust the care of their children to strangers, even ones as charming as he knows alina is capable of being. )

[sunmon]

It's not difficult.

[ she hunches her shoulders a bit. ]

They're like any other person. [ well, no. ] Less cruel, I think.

[ she had always been treated terribly by people at the orphanage — fellow children — but it had gotten worse as she got older, not better.

she peeks at the engineering department as they pass it. there are a few kids scrambling around trying to right thorkil's sign again after it had fallen over. alina smiles. it's genuine. she's doing better at not thinking too hard about whose arm hers are wrapped around. ]

[morozova]

Or at least more honest.

( which isn't entirely the same thing. )

How old were you, when you were brought to the orphanage? Do you remember?

( there's doubtless a report on his desk somewhere detailing all the specifics, every bit of information they have of alina starkov, but they are not in ravka and he has never been particularly adept at small talk. )

[sunmon]

Barely.

[ ana kuya had been firm on this point — recollections of parents, anything before they had been taken in by the duke, were tantamount to heresy. it sounded ungrateful. the memories had mostly faded, paling with time. ]

You can't want to hear about this. [ her voice is dry, dismissive. she tries to wriggle away from the sentiment it stirs. ] My strongest memory is when I found out what happened to them. Killed by volcra, crossing the Fold. I don't think you want to talk about how much the Black Heretic ruined your life any more than I want to talk about how he ruined mine.

[morozova]

( she's offering him an out, which is more than what he's been given when the subject invariably turns toward his bloodline—he is used to being feared and resented by turns. the ache of that rejection and lack of understanding having settled into something dull, if persistent, years ago. )

My comfort doesn't invalidate your pain.

[sunmon]

[ it's meant to be a reassurance. it's the right thing to say. it's what a good man would say, to show empathy. she can't help but wonder if he's rehearsed it somewhere else first.

she hates this. she hates second-guessing everything. it makes her feel miserable every moment. alina goes quiet, as if in acceptance, reluctant acknowledgement. sitting with the grief.

then, ] What about your parents?

[morozova]

I never knew my father. ( this is the truth. baghra had always danced around the issue, relegating the man to little more than a means to an end; perhaps this had been true, in a way. there were no others like them and what was the life of one man in comparison to the aeons that spread out before his son?

still, it would be a lie to say he hadn't wondered. hadn't yearned to know more. )

And you've met my mother, I believe.

[sunmon]

[ no.

no, this isn't how it's supposed to go. he's supposed to lie. spin a pretty web that keeps her small and complacent and in some little box so that he can use her later. that's the picture that baghra painted. he isn't supposed to tell the truth. he isn't supposed to admit his withholding.

alina stops dead in the midst of the hallway. a few people bump into them, though she lets go of aleksander's arm to let him continue on as she becomes a rock in a stream. her jaw is slack, her brow furrowed. the confusion is the most real thing she's given him since that night, even if she points it in the wrong direction. ]

What?

[morozova]

Baghra is my mother.

( his tone sits somewhere between bashful and apologetic. )

It's not widely known, of course. Given what we are, it would be a danger for people to know of our relation. Much as I'd pity anyone that tried to harm her.

[sunmon]

What you ...

[ she works through it, slowly. that he's admitting she is a shadow summoner too. that he is telling her that baghra's his mother.

no. she's giving him too much credit. it's not the same as honesty. he can tell her he's ancient and terrifying, tell her that his mother has been right there at the little palace the whole time, tell her whatever he wants to except for the thing which matters most. it won't change anything. it can't. ]

What both of you are. [ she exhales slowly. a tiny sliver of her mind tries to hold onto some lesser heartbreak. she thinks of her mistrust of baghra, of all the pain she'd caused alina and marie and nadia and every other grisha, and she wonders if maybe the truth is more convenient. baghra could be the black heretic. aleksander could simply be protecting his mother, trying to correct her mistake. she'd known everything of the details of the fold's creation, she was equally eternal, she —

but alina knows these things aren't true. no matter how she tries to hold onto them. baghra is an awful, bitter, angry woman who mistreats the grisha who come to her that she claims to be helping. alina does not trust her further than she could throw her, and alina knows that she wouldn't win that fight. but she also knows that she's not the black heretic.

aleksander is. ]

So you bear all of it. Alone. [ the chapel is nearby. in view, even. it won't take much longer to get to it, to gather their allotted supplies. but alina can't make her feet move. ]

[morozova]

Not alone. Not anymore.

( that had been the hope, at least, but then things had so quickly spun out of control and even though he's reasonably sure that even her anger would bank eventually, there is some part of him that wants to latch onto this second chance.

he offers her his hand, ) And there are advantages to a long life.

[sunmon]

[ putting her hand in his feels like surrendering some piece of her. it feels like accepting the premise — not in performance, but in truth. perhaps because she does agree, on some level. no matter what else is true, there is something unavoidable about their sameness. lessons in grisha philosophy return to her — odinakovost, and how like calls to like.

she takes his hand anyway. ]

Like what? [ she can't imagine any. she hasn't even begun to grapple with his insinuation that she might be as eternal as he is. it creeps in now, though, and she asks, ] How are you so sure that I'll be as long-lived? I'm not aging slowly. Look. I've got wrinkles. [ she holds up her other hand so that he can consider the creases of her knuckles, as if those are ... the same as wrinkles??? teenagers smh. ]

[morozova]

( to his credit, he does oblige what is obviously a very absurd attempt to derail her discomfort, peering down at her hands with a furrowed brow and look of serious consideration. )

Would you believe I have met mermaids, Alina Starkov? ( the world is a large and terrifying place, certainly, but there is a magic to it as well. and things of such unexpected beauty that they would make your heartache. )

[sunmon]

[ there's that slack-jawed wonder again. he keeps catching her off-guard. she has to find a way to steel herself better against that. she can't go soft and weak-kneed every time he gives her a glimmer of the world that he could show to her. he'd be showing it to her in chains.

but still, she asks, ]

I thought they were a myth.

[ just another storybook invention. like the stag she kept seeing — the one baghra had strongly suggested to be real. ]

Are there any other mythical creatures running — or swimming — around that I should know about?

[morozova]

Just reclusive.

( they continue their journey to the chapel, his hand resting carefully over hers. as ever, his power seeps through the touch, calming her. )

They possess a wild, strange sort of power that leads to them often being misunderstood. Rather like the Grisha.

[sunmon]

[ her tension is draining with his hand in hers. it's because he's an amplifier, she realizes. because in places of her nervousness is the low thrum of her power, buzzing at the surface of her skin. she should be outraged, but —

but it feels good. the comfort it provides is real. even if nothing else about this is.

they enter the chapel. the doors are propped, and inside is a plasticky craft table with cubes of supplies wrapped in fire blankets. alina steers them a bit. there's no crowd. a few people in pews turn around to glance at the disturbance. there is a small gaggle near the table — four people or so — who seem to be lingering in hopes of seeing the hatchlings firsthand.

the helper at the table offers them warm smiles, and each of them a bundle of supplies. alina releases kirigan's hand to take hers, and that warm feeling dissipates. she misses it instantly.

'there's a razor in there,' she notes to kirigan, and alina balks at the audacity of telling the black general that his beard is overgrown. she searches him for a reaction. ]

[morozova]

( for a moment aleksander goes very still.

he's largely perfected the ability to not react to provocation, but there's something in the off-handed casualness of the remark that stings. like he was just another man. another otkazat'sya nobody.

then, drawing a hand across his jaw, as if he's only just now realizing how utterly unkempt he's become. the moment stretches a hair too long, then he nods: ) I'll be sure to make good use of it.

( to alina: ) Shall we depart? Or would you like to — ( a flick of his fingers toward the rest of the room. an invitation to linger a little longer if she's inclined. )

[sunmon]

[ the long, tense silence suggests the insult without him ever needing to say it. alina, on the other hand, is sheepish. she makes herself small and grateful, ducking her head and thanking the volunteer. she turns into kirigan's side, keeping close as she starts back towards the door.

in her own silence, she contemplates her response. her new instinct is to placate him, to try to dial back the tension, but what would the alina starkov back at the little palace have said? she'd push her luck. ]

She's right you know. You are looking a little scruffy.

[ alina holds the bundle against her chest, but unties it so she can pick through the contents lightly. the printed text is unfamiliar, but she can draw a few conclusions about the bottles of hygiene products. there's one chalky brick that confuses her, and the packaging is made of some material she doesn't recognize, but they're supplies she's grateful for nonetheless.

it looks like idle sifting, but the truth is that she doesn't want to look at him while she ribs him. she might have to smile if she did. ]

[morozova]

( a slow, feline blink.

it takes him a moment to realize she's joking. another to pick over his meager selection of answers to find something satisfying. )

I've had other concerns. Though I suppose I should be grateful for the fact that I won't have to look like a leshiy for the foreseeable future.

[sunmon]

What other concerns? [ she scoffs. ] Shouldn't you be free of responsibilities, without the Second Army to worry about?

[ he can't very well work on the stag or ways to expand the fold from here. there is no war effort. no shu han.

she does, however, study his face now. they're not walking anywhere in particular. wandering, really, and alina as a result cants towards following his lead because she is focused instead on trying to ascertain whether or not he knows about matthias helvar and kaz brekker. ]

[morozova]

We had just hatched from dragon's eggs, Alina.

( whether they belonged to the dragon, itself, or were as a result of some strange magical phenomenon remained to be determined, of course. but the implication is that perhaps even his vanity could take a backseat to figuring that out.

not that he'd managed. it had become quite clear that if there were any answers to be had here, they were unlikely to simply manifest because he desired them too. )

And I think you know better than to assume my responsibilities end simply because there is no army to lead.

[sunmon]

Do I?

[ she studies him as if she were trying to peel something away, drill down into what's underneath. he holds so much back. she'd thought she'd known him, thought he'd revealed something of himself, and now she wants to understand which parts are a construction and which are real. but she's realizing it may be impossible to tell where the manipulation ends. ]

You haven't thought about it? How nice it is to be Aleksander again, instead of the sum of your ... [ she stumbles. ] Your ancestor's crimes? No debt. No penance. You're free of the Fold, even if Ravka is not.

[morozova]

Sometimes.

( in the way of an idle fantasy or daydream. something nice to visit occasionally in those quiet, thoughtful moments but something that he had never really examined much beyond the necessity to think of anything other than war for a while. )

Though, my being here and not there doesn't eliminate the danger. Nor does it absolve me. I doubt even the destruction of the Fold could do that, truthfully.

[sunmon]

[ she shivers. he really isn't going to be content with destroying the fold. he really wants to turn it into a weapon against the grisha's enemies — against his enemies.

and, maybe, against hers. alina rips out that weed before it can take root. it isn't welcome. she digs her fingers tighter into the edges of the fire blanket in her arms, trying to swallow down her discomfort. her hate.

maybe she's pressing her luck. maybe all of this is, and she'll come to regret her mistakes too soon because she can't keep it going. but for now, she can't stop herself. the reply bubbles out of her. ]

It wasn't your crime. [ that's what he claimed. ] What do you need absolution for?