[closed] she wears short shorts i wear t shirts

[brittlest]

WHO: alina & ralston
WHAT: Meeting in Horizon
WHEN: Early September
WHERE: Horizon

[Is it felt? When someone trespasses and begins to make changes here within another person's domain. Or was that a fundamental and instinctive thing—keen only when they had no memories to clutter the influence of the Singularity over them?

Regardless: there amidst the sand and burning crystalline structures of Alina Starkov's domain is now erected a trimmed field tent. Its sides rolled tight to the top to allow whatever arcane breeze floats here to pass unobstructed through it. A thick carpet has been conjured to cover the sand. Does is resemble some military tent? Or does it fall more along the lines of some delicate shade constructed for an elaborate garden party? Can it be both? If there is any place which might allow for such a discrepancy, surely it's this one.

In the shade of the tent waits a small table and two more or less matching chairs. One of them is occupied.]

Comments

[solmate]

[ Another comment that would be a dig if Alina wasn't already acutely aware of it. If she's insulted, it doesn't show, or, at least, it doesn't add to her aggravation. The number of people who wanted to keep her company before she started to be of any significant use could be counted on one hand.

Ralston's proposition is tempting, and he is of course right. She has no eyes on Aleksander. How can you hide from a man who controls the dark?

A measured breath. Always at the disadvantage, and she knows it. ]

I have no assurances that you wouldn't just turn around and tell him what you find out about me.

[ Was there anyone in the Little Palace that wouldn't have delivered her back to the Darkling no matter how much she thought she trusted them? Still, her tone has shifted as if she is searching for excuses rather than making a real protest. ]

[brittlest]

You don't.

[It's jarringly brisk agreement with her assessment, with no hint at reassuring her or allaying any suspicions. As far as deceitful negotiations go, he is either very good at them or very poor.]

And as I've said, you haven't given me much reason to be confident in you either. So it seems to be that either we agree to lend one another the benefit of the doubt, or we continue to fumble blindly about in the dark. I don't know about you, but to my ear that latter one seems to the exclusive benefit of our mutual friend.

[solmate]

[ Well, at least he's not being needlessly cryptic. His honesty is a cautiously earned mark in his favor. She sits back, crossing her arms across her chest. Where to even begin with Aleksander?

And she does begin, without even agreeing to any terms, as if they had already negotiated them. ]

He is powerful. Purposefully deceitful. He cares for no one but himself despite any lies to make you think otherwise. [ All fairly standard, but inadvertently revealing far too much of her own pain. A pause, and then: ] Patient.

[ It feels strange to think of something so normally so virtuous as something evil, but here she is, Ravka's saint greedy and impatient. ]

[brittlest]

I'd sorted all that out for myself, [is rude to the point of counter productivity—why be smart with her here in this moment when she's finally her pride far enough to give him something directly?

But turn about's fair play, and he isn't here for broad overtures. Maybe that's why Ralston offers her:]

He's hurt me once already.

[Never mind that it's not a difficult thing to do; that doesn't change that it's true.]

[solmate]

[ Alina is close to leaving, imagining the way her feet could kick out the chair legs from underneath him. But then he has to go say something like that, and she thinks perhaps she has misjudged Ralston. Maybe he just needs help.

She is still wary and guarded in her movements. She shifts in her chair, the internal fight obvious. He wants to know what Kirigan is capable of? She wears it on her skin. Can't even escape it in the Horizon. ]

He did this. [ Her thumb brushes underneath the wound of a collar making its way in and out of her skin. It almost seems to pulse with the attention, but her face seems so stiff. So purposeful in her attempt to seem detached, invulnerable. ] Trying to... take something from me. Use me.

[brittlest]

[The line of his dark eyes falls to follow her fingers, lingering there at the wreath wrought so purposefully about her neck. If he considers the shape at length, it reminds him of a trap. A thing made of ravenous teeth made ready to spring shut.

(This is a dangerous business, he knows. It isn't a lie to say that the general has harmed him. Purposefully? No. But he has seen the aftermath enough tines to recognize a lack of a chagrin. What would Kirigan do, were he to tell him of this meeting and the pretenses under which Ralston has pursued it?)

His eyes return to her face, with all its purposefully fixed qualities.

A more sensible man might, in this moment, feel some flicker of trepidation. But no one has ever called Maejyr Michael Ralston such a thing.]

Use you. For what?

[solmate]

[ More power she starts to say, but it's not just that. Her hands fall back to the arm rests of her chair, scratching at the wood, antsy like a caged animal. ]

Control. [ He would never let a little thing like personal agency get in the way of his plans. ] I assume you've seen his shadow summoning by now. He tore my country in half with it. Hundreds of years ago because he's actually ancient. [ Why is that the bit that annoys her so much? ] Turned the people in its path into monsters that still kill the people desperate enough to try and cross it.

[ She turns her hand, fingers curling around a little sphere of light that's amassed there. As her fist closes it spills out like sand into the atmosphere of her domain, not content to be kept. ]

I thought— [ And she turns her head, letting out a breath because she seems so stupid in retrospect. He hadn't even promised her that, she just let herself believe a carefully worded half-truth. ] —that we were going to destroy it. And that with both of our power we could accomplish that.

[ It's a wonder her sign isn't the fool. ]

[brittlest]

[The mesmeric shape of the light in the confines of the tent canvas plays like a shaded lantern from between her fingers. It isn't a matter of seeing it, but feeling it—the sensation of vibrant sunlight shifting on the other side of a pane of glass to which he has his cheek pressed, the presence full enough that he is aware of the warmth. Here in Horizon, it's so near that he might almost reach out and touch the shape of it himself. Consequently, the urge to do so is quiet and remote. In this place, where he may glut himself on the arcane, starving impulses are at their least powerful.

Still, he isn't without appetite. Even a sated animal finds the scent of a meal appealing. So there is something intent in his study of her, eagerly parsing where she begins and Horizon ends. It's a complicated subject—the two things being as close knit as consequences are to actions.

Luckily, he is practiced with this study.]

What did you hope to achieve by repairing it?

[solmate]

[ Alina nearly recoils, her face bemused. Her face is not subtle. What an odd (stupid) question she thinks. ]

What do you mean? [ But her question is sharp, and she is not really interested in an answer. Her country was broken, people trapped and desperate dying in fruitless attempts to cross it. Her hands clutch tightly around the arms of the chair, the temperature of the tent rising as the beams of light that filter in pulse like a breath. ] People are trapped by it. My whole unit died crossing it for a stupid supply run. The fold— [ at my parents, her mouth fumbles around the thought, stumbling to stop it. They were probably crossing it because of her. Just how large was the Sun Summoner's body count?

She could cut him. Hurt him to make him leave. It's not like it's even real.

But that would make her like Kirigan, wouldn't it? The light that had moved forward like a gust of air retreats as she leans back into her seat, her mouth moving carefully around each of the words. ]

Grisha, like Kirigan— like me —are not exactly trusted where we come from. Useful. But not trusted.

[ Grisha women scare me, Mal had joked, and still it echos around her head. But Ravka's begrudging acceptance is still better than being hunted and slaughtered. Easier to deal with than the constant uncertainty straddling Ravkan and Shu but belonging to neither. ]

And I just have to.

[ A Saint that will vanquish the fold. It's a children's story, but stories repeated often enough become real. She just didn't think it would ever be so literal. ]