Entry tags:
◣ OPEN ◢
WHO: alina & anyone
WHAT: powers practice! & misc other slice of life opportunities related to thessyx departure, mole mission, and disappearances
WHEN: mid-july
WHERE: the memorial wall or theater roof
NOTES/WARNINGS: none yet
WHAT: powers practice! & misc other slice of life opportunities related to thessyx departure, mole mission, and disappearances
WHEN: mid-july
WHERE: the memorial wall or theater roof
NOTES/WARNINGS: none yet
& powers training
[ thanks to balthier and the rest of the aid station workers, alina recovers quickly from her mild sinkhole injuries. the bruising has vanished, and aside from a little weakness that's more a result of taking it easy for a couple weeks than anything else, she moves as she normally would again.
which means she can train as she normally would.
usually, she's either with nina or kirigan, and they try to stay discreet. there's only so much that can be done, however, for keeping flares of sunlight subtle. it flashes like a piece of metal glinting in the sun from the roof of the theater, just out of view, coaxing someone up to fix it. but there's no metal, and there's no sun peeking around or through the dragon's wing, let alone the endless cloud cover. just alina.
standing on the roof, hands out, holding a tiny basketball-sized sun in her palms. sweat beads on her brow, and she gasps, letting it evaporate all at once as her shoulders slump with released tension. her chin drops against her collarbone, her hands to her side, and she turns to walk a few paces like she's just finished running a lap.
using her power makes her skin glow. it leaves her energized, humming. but it's work. ]
& etc.
[ when she isn't training, she can most often be found wheedling the aid station workers to let her go on the trip to the mole habitats — which they are reluctant to do given how much time she'd spent there recently — or cleaning up after the talent at the theater which requires the break down of props and the recycling of costumes for the next show.
elsewhere around the base, she can be found nosing around the bunks and their adjacent lockers. kaz brekker is gone. when she goes looking for him, she finds his locker hanging open, emptied. dread shoots through her like a bolt of lightning. if the general had already found it, then he'd already know that someone from their future had been here. he'd know that there was a chance alina knew, that alina was lying.
a community outreach volunteer finds her sitting down on the bunk opposite that locker, her hand still over her mouth, a deeply troubled expression on her face, and lets her know that the items had been collected to be redistributed.
'i'm sorry,' they say patiently. 'was he a friend?' alina laughed.
later that week, she can be found just outside the base with mud all over her hands and knees. the mud leaves her bare hands red and irritated from its acidity, inherited from the rain, but alina doesn't flinch. ]
[ thanks to balthier and the rest of the aid station workers, alina recovers quickly from her mild sinkhole injuries. the bruising has vanished, and aside from a little weakness that's more a result of taking it easy for a couple weeks than anything else, she moves as she normally would again.
which means she can train as she normally would.
usually, she's either with nina or kirigan, and they try to stay discreet. there's only so much that can be done, however, for keeping flares of sunlight subtle. it flashes like a piece of metal glinting in the sun from the roof of the theater, just out of view, coaxing someone up to fix it. but there's no metal, and there's no sun peeking around or through the dragon's wing, let alone the endless cloud cover. just alina.
standing on the roof, hands out, holding a tiny basketball-sized sun in her palms. sweat beads on her brow, and she gasps, letting it evaporate all at once as her shoulders slump with released tension. her chin drops against her collarbone, her hands to her side, and she turns to walk a few paces like she's just finished running a lap.
using her power makes her skin glow. it leaves her energized, humming. but it's work. ]
& etc.
[ when she isn't training, she can most often be found wheedling the aid station workers to let her go on the trip to the mole habitats — which they are reluctant to do given how much time she'd spent there recently — or cleaning up after the talent at the theater which requires the break down of props and the recycling of costumes for the next show.
elsewhere around the base, she can be found nosing around the bunks and their adjacent lockers. kaz brekker is gone. when she goes looking for him, she finds his locker hanging open, emptied. dread shoots through her like a bolt of lightning. if the general had already found it, then he'd already know that someone from their future had been here. he'd know that there was a chance alina knew, that alina was lying.
a community outreach volunteer finds her sitting down on the bunk opposite that locker, her hand still over her mouth, a deeply troubled expression on her face, and lets her know that the items had been collected to be redistributed.
'i'm sorry,' they say patiently. 'was he a friend?' alina laughed.
later that week, she can be found just outside the base with mud all over her hands and knees. the mud leaves her bare hands red and irritated from its acidity, inherited from the rain, but alina doesn't flinch. ]
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( his composure doesn't slip so much as he allows it to drop. nothing she's saying hasn't occurred to him already, playing over and over in his mind.
he's not sure, precisely, what will happen if alina is truly from a different point in time. if, perhaps, there's another alina and another aleksander waiting for them. if there is, well... alina's ravka will not be unguarded. he would be there, hunting her.
he doubts she would be comforted to know that, though. to know just what happens after she escapes the little palace. )
But I can either rage against something that cannot presently be changed or I can use that energy toward more useful. Which do you believe helps us more?
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[ she averts her gaze. she can see how it would seem belittling for her to share her adolescent ideas like they hadn't occurred to a centuries old general. she swallows and refocuses her attention on the rabbit.
with further concentration, it hops. moving the construct is not so hard as holding its shape. the ears lose form a bit as it moves. ]
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( his voice softens. ) I can hardly call you my equal and not be willing to hear your thoughts. Even when I'm not used to someone being quite so frank with me.
( baghra doesn't count. )
Impressive. ( it's sincerely said. ) Your power is a living thing. Part of you. This, generally, is difficult for older students to grasp. But you're taking to it like it's second nature.
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I let go of what was holding me back. That's all.
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( luda's ghost had haunted him for decades. the fold remains a constant, stubborn reminder of so many of his failures. )
I'm glad that it no longer weighs on you, whatever it was.
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[ she mutters it with some reluctance. ]
Not what. Who.
[ it shouldn't matter, the distinction. but it does. mal was a person who disappointed her just like kirigan had. she's beginning to learn that resting any of herself on a person is a grave error. if she wants freedom for herself — and peace for ravka — she needs to rely on her own power. ]
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it's strange to be having this conversation with her now, knowing that as soon as the tracker shows his face again, she's so quick to forgive him. he swallows back something bitter, sharp, and instead inclines his head as if to concede the point. )
It does get easier.
( or the pain, at least, gets easier to bear. which is about the same thing. )
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[ she shouldn't have brought up mal. the wound is fresh. open. and she bristles instantly at kirigan trying to be the one to salve it with what feels like platitudes. ]
Or did you just get enough power to surround yourself with enough people who adore you that you never have to think about the ones who left?
[ her voice is brittle with the insinuation that not everyone can be so fortunate as to insulate themselves from their pain that way. ]
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instead, he lets the moment breathe.
then: ) It's not the ones that leave that haunt me.
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[ she can't say more. can't bring herself to because she knows the next words out of her mouth would be, is it the ones you murdered? the ones you transformed into monsters?
instead, she just lets out a shaky breath, releasing some of her anger that way. ]
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( no further explanations are offered. he's not precisely sure where he'd begin, even if he were inclined to slit himself open and bare all to her.
her accusation stings more than he'd like to admit. is that really what she thinks of him? )
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Sorry.
[ it's going to happen to her too, isn't it? but losing people to death would involve having people to begin with. who did she have left? genya? nina? they could both be loyal to kirigan. mal was gone. balthier and natasha would only be there for her as long as she remained here, on raia, and they weren't as long-lived as grisha as far as she knew. certainly not as long-lived as the likes of kirigan. ]
I'm just ... frustrated. [ powerless — what good is a power she can't use to defend herself, to fight him? — and alone. terribly alone. ]
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( wryly, swallowing back a smile that has no business being there when he's at least a little irritated with her. )
Have you considered hitting something? Or shouting, perhaps.
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[ and she'd really like to punch him. just once. ]
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Don't knock me off the roof.
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I don't think it'll help. [ she shakes her head lightly. ] It's not that kind of frustration.
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he knows. perhaps not precisely what she's feeling, but he has a better grasp of the shape of it than she probably realizes. ) it helps to redirect that fear and frustration into something that can be controlled. So, try again. Harder, this time. Like you mean it.
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[ of course, being petulant has no use here. she only tightens her lips in a line of displeasure, then draws her hand back. with a sigh, she holds both hands in front of her once more. her eyes shut, as if this helps her focus.
when she exhales, it's like breathing out light. the glow comes from between ehr hands again, slowly taking shape. ]
no subject
( nothing he's seen of alina thusfar suggests someone prone to half-measures.
still, it must be hard for her, feeling so behind. frustrating, too, when they've placed the weight of the war on her shoulders. the future of not only ravka but the grisha themselves. )
I ask much of you because I know you can handle it. That is, I think, what you don't necessarily understand.
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[ her eyes open flatly. the rabbit-like shape, generously titled, collapses into an orb of light. it splits her concentration too much, trying to focus on this while she's so angry with him. she should have known better than to expect progress here. her anger with baghra had never been the same as this. ]
And you — Ravka — needs me to be able to handle it.
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( he shakes his head. )
It's more than that, it's — ( the sentence trails off as he tips his head, eyes squinting slightly, as if calculating a difficult equation. ) They would have taught about the basic principles of the Small Science, yes?
Odinakovost, etovost. But there is a third, as well — ( he looks at her as he says this last part, ) yunejhost. Balance.
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[ she feels warmer under his gaze. a kind of warmth that makes her want to shrink ever smaller, though. she doesn't trust the source of that heat. not one bit. ]
Is this the part where you tell me I'm your balance, again? Your equal? [ her expression scrunches with disbelief. he says it, but she doesn't believe that his actions follow. he wouldn't be chasing the stag if he did. he wouldn't be planning to turn her into a slave to weaponize the fold if he did. ] If you really feel that way, then what if I decide to Hell with Ravka and the Fold? No Ravkan has ever done anything for me but treat me like the enemy. Why should I help them?
[ it's bold enough to be stupid to ask. but it's a worthy question — ] Would you really just ... let me go?
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( to put it mildly. and there's a kernel of truth to it, what actually happens notwithstanding. ravka hasn't done all that much for him, either. )
But I would understand.
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[ what he'd done. the light goes out. her hands curl into fists, holding herself back. her heart pounds in her ears. it's not the same. it's not the same to be held responsible for his own actions as it is to be treated like she has been treated for no reason but how she looks. ]
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( it's not as if it's any secret, how ravkans feel about the shu. the fear of something vast and unknown compressed into a fear that's smaller and more immediate.
fear could be useful, of course, and a tool he had become rather adept at, for that matter. but it's a juvenile, petty little fear that's very human. )
But I think it says more about you that you haven't run, yet. That you're still prepared to help.
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