002

[solmate]

WHO: Alina + closed starters (Kirigan, Ciri, Kylo, Geralt)
WHAT: Alina haunts some friends new and old
WHERE: Free Cities, the Horizon
WHEN: Throughout October
NOTES: No warnings currently. This will be a catch-all for October threads. If you'd like a custom starter, dm me and we'll figure something out!

Comments

kylo (horizon)

[solmate]

One day in the Horizon, Kylo will find a small gift in his domain.

Two twin snakes, poised in battle against each other and crafted in crystal. Miniatures of the snakes that sit in her domain, although she hasn't mimicked the deep obsidian of his contribution. Her control is better, finer. She almost doesn't want to give it up, although she supposes she can come visit it.

With the gift is a note. It had taken her some time to steel the nerve for the ask, but while he had pointed out the risk of her request, he had not denied her. She does not think he would agree out of any sense of obligation.

I think I need your help.

[photophobic]

Alina's right, of course. Kylo isn't the type to be guilted into lending his assistance— or, indeed, bribed— but he is charmed by the gift, remembering with unpracticed fondness the way the two of them had connected in the crystalline desolation of her sun-baked desert.

Given his abilities, it might not be coincidence that the next time Alina comes to check on her sculpture she finds it properly placed on a smooth, obsidian plinth, raised to just the right height for display— and the lord of the mountain himself stepping out from between the high columns of his volcanic fortress to greet her. Kylo looks much like he had the first time they met: tall, dark, solid and undeniably curious.

"You called," he offers by way of greeting.

[solmate]

"I did," she returns, although there is some hesitation in her voice. It's not that she's unsure that she's asked for his help, no. She's unsure if she wants to follow-through.

Still dressed in non-distinct robes, still wearing the rattling bone shackles around her neck, feet, and ankles, she takes a few steps closer.

"I..." she starts and pauses, not quite sure how to phrase her ask. It should be so simple. She doesn't want to be shackled, why is it difficult to ask for that? Why is she nervous about it in this place that is but isn't real. Swallowing, she steels herself, pressing her shoulders back with a sort of forced confidence that isn't totally there.

"I want to take these off," she gestures with her wrists, pulling on the shackles. "I thought I might be able to use something from your domain."

[photophobic]

"Something?"

Or someone, perhaps, given that she could have made use of anything in his domain without seeking permission first. He looks her over— and it isn't exactly compassion in his eyes, or encouragement, or pity— but there is a depth of understanding. If she knows how to see it.

"Perhaps there is something I can do. All chains can be broken. May I?"

He reaches out a hand, glowing with molten heat just beneath the tortured surface of his skin. A little examination, first. If she'll allow it.

[solmate]

Something, someone. She had assumed she could find some flowing lava somewhere, but on some level it's all an extension of him right? And just as she's gained a finer control, a mastery and cooperation with her light, it seems he has the same relationship with the molten lava.

That doesn't stop her from completely hesitating, taking a long appraising look at his hands. She takes a breath in, rolling her shoulders back, an animal puffing up to look bigger. Braver.

She steps forward, more purposeful in her presentation of her wrists, pulling the chain taut between them.

"Should I take that to mean you've broken a few of your own?" She's no poet, but she assumes he knows she isn't speaking quite so literally. Her eyes flick up to his, curious. "Steel might be the easiest among them."

kirigan (tether)

[solmate]

[ Alina taps the charcoal idly at the edge of the parchment, the light filtering in through the high window of their small apartment in Cadens quickly fading. She presses her hand through the orange beam fingers mirroring how she would summon the light if she had to.

Mal isn't back from his day's work. A little late, but not so much that she worries. He takes the extra work when he can, and she uses the privacy to practice bits of summoning. She hasn't puzzled out how he feels about it yet. Antlers around her neck, her light burning his meadow in the Horizon, she can't help but think the reminders of her power are not exactly comforting.

Stretching on the bed, she toys with the light in earnest now, twirling it around her fingers like fidgeting with the charcoal. Little tricks... how is she supposed to push herself to something more.

Closing her eyes, she focuses herself, breathing deeply. She thinks of the antlers around her neck, a power knocking at the base of her skull, dulled tones of what it felt like when she touched Kirigan's skin. She screws her eyes more tightly closed, if only she could unlock it.

There is a shift in... something, like the air moves around her. She sucks in a breath, eyes opening to a blurred room and a figure coming into focus.

He's polishing his shoes.

She's not sure why it amuses her so much, to see him doing something so painfully normal, the combination of confusion and amusement dousing out the immediate fury she might have felt. Is this even real? ]

I would have thought you'd find someone to do that for you.

at last

[sankt]

[He stops.

Seated there, brush in hand, boot on his knee, Kirigan becomes very still. The edge of a covered bed, the rug immediately beneath his feet—beyond these islands of clarity there is only suggestion, dark and light forms, faded colours. The general himself, he is—

—well he's dressed, at least, if not prepared for company.

He looks first to the door, reflexively, and then to the impossible shape caught in the periphery of his attention. Beneath the frown of his brow, his bright, dark eyes have widened just enough to betray his bewilderment. Behind his lips, his jaw slackens. While he seems stunned into paralysis, the minuscule movements of his eyes betray rapid calculation. What is this? A native trick? A feature of the Horizon? How infuriating it would be to learn such a thing so late.

Through the palm of his hand comes a dull feeling of awareness—some remnant of unconsummated ambition. His knuckles have gone pale around the brush. He says nothing.]

[solmate]

[ There's something satisfying about rendering Kirigan speechless. Likely it has to do with that he's a man who has had multiple lifetimes to see just about everything. It makes an odd, immature sense of pride rise in her. A twist on not many people surprise me, Miss Starkov.

So her curiosity fills all the spaces his might have occupied. Swinging her legs over the side of her narrow bunk, she leans forward, squinting as she surveys the space around him but it never materializes into the same focus as him.

The distance, the uncertainty surrounding this, the absolute absurdity that it's even happening and confirmation that it wasn't something he has orchestrated (he may be well practiced at telling half a story, but she does not think he would ever act unaware) lulls her into an unwise sense of security. There are no shadows to hide in here, so she might as well be bold. ]

Don't let me keep you from important business.

[sankt]

[Important business. Kirigan's reaction to this nonchalant disrespect outstrips the thing itself; he isn't irritated by it, and that in itself is irritating, even over and above whatever it is Alina has done. Is doing. What he'd been planning, before—the similarity is truly bizarre—

But perhaps it ought not be so surprising.

After perhaps too long a pause, he glances at the boot, tilts it on his knee. (Checks the back of his hand.) While his attention is down there, he remembers his feet are bare—and of all things, thinks of how few people have been allowed to see him without shoes.]

How gratifying this must be for you.

[Expertly casual. One might scarcely suspect his pulse is only just winding down.]

[solmate]

[ Yes. Extremely.

It's hard not to say such things, an aimed dagger meant specifically to provoke him. Her face says it all for her though, so this is not a real well-earned victory in restraint. She folds her legs, crossing them in front of her. Her eyes follow his, back down to the boot on his knee, then down to his legs. To his bare feet. Not... undignified. Just... so abruptly casual to see him in any state of undress.

Although she supposes she wasn't so far off from achieving that. But she is isn't a game she intends to lose, not when she already has the upper hand, so she throws her thoughts to the opposite side of that. ]

You are the last person I want to see in my bedroom right now.

sam (cadens)

[solmate]

[ Alina wakes up alone.

She had stayed up late into the night, the city eerily quiet, fighting against the slow blink of her heavy lids. Stubbornly, she tries to hold onto consciousness. She should have started looking for him hours ago.

Which is ridiculous. Mal is brave and Mal is a talented tracker and Mal has always found his way back to her and tomorrow he will return wearing a large grin from ear to ear and a bounty of furred nocturnal animals to make into a luxurious coat or blanket to keep her warm at night.

But that doesn't happen, and a void seems to sit in her stomach. ]

Sam— [ Her voice is soft, hesitant, rough on the edges with sleep as she comes out to the common area of the apartment they share, threadbare blanket drawn around her shoulders.

She tends to keep to herself, letting Mal lead with him, the same as anyone they both now for the most part. Mal was the charming and easy-going half; she was more like a feral cat. ]

Did Mal come home last night?

[falcony]

[ sam hasn't slept.

he doesn't know if he can, with the fear growing ever tighter around his chest, and he certainly hasn't yet - not when he'd been up, cleaning up the main room (it's a routine, by this point- picking up everyone's things before he settled into the couch) when he noticed mal hadn't come back from his day. their schedules had, of course, always been up in the air, without normal hours or normal errands, it was impossible to tell really when alina and peter and mal would be home. but sam had picked up enough of their habits, knew that even if mal went off for food, he generally made it back before it got too late. usually apologizing, usually laughing it off - calling sam an old man for worrying.

it's late, when he realizes mal wasn't back yet. late enough that sam doesn't really wait much longer before he sends out red to scout. it's only when red comes back empty handed that sam really starts to panic, spending the entire rest of the night looking - asking for help from geralt, the only other tracker he knows. the scent had been fresh enough, he was here this morning and then, through a single doorway, it just stopped.

geralt had said he would keep looking, but sam knew - just as you always kind of just know - what must have happened. and it's the only reason sam is home at all, having slipped back into their place an hour or so before alina wakes, just long enough to check the horizon. to notice the empty place were his meadow had once been.

her voice is quiet, when she steps out, but sam looks up instantly - exhausted, but suddenly on. he'd been thinking about this, about what to say, what he's even supposed to do in this situation, and when he sees her step out with her thin blanket and quiet voice, his chest tightens, painfully. ]

Hey, Alina. Did I wake you? [ it's a stupid platitude, but it's the first thing he thinks of. and then, at the question, he sighs, scooting over on the couch to leave her space, if she wants to take it. it's been like that for a while, between them - sam giving alina space, trying to make her feel more comfortable. now, he's never even sure it helps, but he does it all the same.

whether she takes the spot or not, sam needs a second before he can answer. he takes one breath, and then one more, before shaking his head. ]

No, he didn't. [ a beat, and then- ] Did he tell you he was going hunting or anything?

[solmate]

[ Crossing the fold didn't keep them apart. Being pulled into another world didn't keep them apart. Still, dread sits in her stomach like a void, a suffocating pit. Panic floods her veins, and she takes stuttering aborted steps around the small space. She does not sit next to him, but it has nothing to do with any comfort or lack-there-of with Sam at the moment. All she can think of is Mal. ]

I have to go find him.

[ Mal, her brave and smart and courageous and incredibly stupid Mal. Her chest clenches, thinking of all the worst scenarios that could happen, that might have happened. A random fight with a stranger when he stepped into defend someone. A misstep in the dark and his foot stuck in a submerged trap overtaken by the icy water. Aleksander's shadows wrapped around his neck.

Aleksander.

And Alina knows it must have been him, and what a fool she was for thinking distance and a half-negotiated unsteady truce would have ever stopped him from hurting her anyway he can. ]

I have to go find him, [ she repeats, a forced steadiness in her voice as she retreats back into their room, quickly "dressing" by throwing on outwear over the clothes she wore to sleep in. She digs around in a drawer, coins jangling as she fills her purse, storming past Sam to grab a canteen and wrap some bread in cloth so she won't need to stop. ]

I can hire a horse from the stable. Make better ground. Don't wait up.

[falcony]

[ sam wishes, instantly, there was some other way of broaching this. that, somehow, there could be words for how to deal with what he knows is going to be a difficult reaction. but there’s no guidebook for this sort of thing, and the hollow feeling of loss that expands in sam’s chest makes him not want to have to write it.

still, he knows he’s said something wrong, or perhaps presented it wrong, the second the words leave his mouth. the second he sees her react. ]

Alina. [ his voice is pleading, in a strange kind of way - pained, tired, but soldiering on. alina, meanwhile, turns back to her room (because it’s just her’s now, isn’t it?). sam stands, suddenly, and walks over to the door. ] Alina, wait, hold on-

[ she storms by him and am thinks about reaching out to grab her elbow, to get her to slow down for just a moment. he can’t blame her, considering how he’s spent the last few hours, but he also knows she can’t go out on her own. not like this. ]

We don’t even know if he’s out there. I’ve been searching the city, and his trail just ends. Alina, stop- [ she’s still moving, still packing, and sam moves to stand in front of the door out of their room, his hands up, trying to all her down and making it obvious he will stop her, if need me. ] Stop. Just for a minute.

[ the problem is - he knows what she’s thinking, and the only thing stopping him from doing exactly what she’s doing now, is her. is his concern for what she might do. his expression is soft when he continues. ]

We don’t even know where to start, and he might not even be here. [ a beat, and then a sigh. ] Let me make you breakfast- ten minutes tops, I promise, and you can talk me through your plan. Maybe I can help.

[solmate]

[ He was searching all night.

He was searching all night and Alina was being useless. Less than useless, while she stared at the wall and got fitful amounts of sleep. Her expression shifts silently to something pained.

Alina's always been a little easy to read, but usually she doesn't wear her hurt so plainly. For the most part, she's been toughened, calloused to not let things beat her down when so many other parts of life have beat them to it.

But this wound is fresh and foreign. At least when they were assigned to different posts, she knew she could write to his regiment. At least when they were pulled apart after the Fold she knew where he was. ]

I don't have a plan.

[ And maybe she should be more ashamed of that, but it's true. She doesn't think that far ahead, all she has, all she ever could really do is just stay ahead of the next biggest threat, sometimes literally like now with her hurried and frantic scurrying around the apartment, like prey zagging as it dashes out of the grasps of a predator. Being stopped by Sam feels a bit like running into a corner, forcing a reconciliation with reality that's catching up to her. She takes a sharp breath in, her eyes are wide and already watery. Her mouth hovers partly open, quivering. She is spinning, reeling, like a compass that's lost north. ]

I can't— [ She's not even sure how that ends, can't what? But she does not have time. She and Mal have never had the luxury of time. Sniffing, she makes another push again, stumbling as she tries to grab her boots in a rather graceless swoop. She tumbles onto the floor, but she doesn't let that slow her. ] If it were me he would be searching already. He wouldn't have waited a night.

[ And that's not to say Sam's searching meant nothing, but that was Sam searching, not hers. ]

shortly after mal's disappearance (cadens)

[gynvael]

[ Sam doesn't come to him for much. Neither does Geralt in return. So when the man shows up without warning in the middle of the night, he already knows it's nothing good. His search yields little. Mal's vanished without a trace. Here, and then gone. Not a portal. At least, not that he can tell. It's something else, something he can't yet understand.

When Sam tells him Mal's Horizon domain is gone, too—it'd be easy to leave it at that. What else could it mean?

For Geralt, that's not good enough. That he's no longer trying to find someone he thinks might still be alive and well isn't the point. He can still try to find out what the fuck happened. No body, no blood, not even a trace of anything. The whole incident leaves him uneasy. If one of them can simply disappear, then what about everyone else? He's been digging around for the past couple days. Putting off, a little, going to Alina for more information. He doesn't know either of them well—Mal or Alina—but he is aware they're close. From the same world. He probably isn't the person she wants to speak to about this right now, if she even wants to talk to anyone in the first place. All he has are dead ends and not a damn clue where else he should pick up the trail.

He knocks on the door, anyhow. She knows Mal best. And if he gets shut out, then he gets shut out. Wouldn't be the first time. He's come by the house before, here and there, but usually he's looking for Sam. He waits patiently off to the side, listening for the footsteps and heartbeat alike that'll tell him someone's home—shuffling through the information he's got, what he's missing. ]

[solmate]

[ Alina moves slowly, although it's not from any sort of lack of urgency. These days have been draining, the uncertainty weighing more heavily than she could have imagined. Without a fate to point to, anything could have happened to Mal, and Alina's mind has invented all sorts of awful scenarios both here and at home that he might have succumb to.

The quickest she can move is to the door, but the unhurried knock and lack of commotion means that it's either something unrelated to their search for Mal or another empty-handed update.

She cracks the door open, and although she had been expecting this, it still hurts to see Geralt standing alone. She somehow manages to slump her shoulders more.

She is a thin, shadowy version of herself. Dark circles cut under her eyes, her joints appear bony and sharp. It's almost worse than when she was in the dungeon, cut off from the light that makes her live her life more fully and brightly. ]

Geralt. [ At least she doesn't act like she's expecting good news. ] Do you want to come in?

[gynvael]

[ The door inches open. Geralt peers through it, taking Alina in: the heavy cloak of misery that hangs over her. She looks like shit. Concern passes over his face. For a second, it appears he wants to say something before he leaves it be. He knows she has Sam, who's far better equipped to look after how she's doing. Geralt's skillset lies elsewhere.

So he nods, wordless. Yeah. He does. He waits for her to let him in before stepping through, though he doesn't go too far in. Habit, almost; few let him into their homes and most who do don't intend for him to stay long. He perches on the window's ledge instead, close to the door.

He need not tell her he hasn't got promising news. He can see she already knows. It bothers him, getting nowhere. More than usual, that is. Because he knows her. He's getting to know her and Sam, and he'd been familiar with Mal. They aren't wary strangers from a small village, handing him some coin to solve their problems and expecting to never see him again when it's over. It feels, distinctly, like he owes them more. ]

I wanted to talk to you. About Mal. [ He shifts his gaze towards her. He's got a few things he's learned, but he wants to hear from her first before he gets there. ] Had he said anything to you? Something he may have come across that wasn't right? Someone he spoke to?

[ What concerns him is not that he didn't find a proper trail. It's that he physically can't. Mal is not merely missing, didn't just run into trouble past the city limits and couldn't make it back. Something happened to him to remove him without a trace. ]

[solmate]

Mm-mm. [ She shakes her head. ] No.

[ Not that Mal had to tell Alina everything he planned (and not that either of them are exactly planners, and some lying by omission was more her speed), but they had stuck close to each other here. Laying low. Staying away from Kirigan. Working jobs, it almost felt normal. It was a comfortable pattern that almost made her forget they were anything but two orphans.

Alina looks down her hand idly running across her palm, searching for an old scar. Erased, just like Mal. ]

There's someone who would want to hurt him. But he's not here, he was in Thorne.

[gynvael]

[ Geralt absorbs that for a minute. Reflects on the possibility that someone's reach in Thorne can extend this far. The likelihood is low. But that leaves few options: something to do with the Singularity, which is as nebulous a theory as anything—they know fuck all about the Singularity—or the strange benefactor who rescued all of them for reasons Geralt still doesn't understand. They know even less about that.

He shifts his weight. ] I tracked him to a tavern, where he was working. Innkeeper said he left something behind. When she went after him, he was already gone. In the space of seconds. I checked. His trail stops cold there, too.

[ Not faded, not obscured. Just gone. He hesitates, before pulling out a folded scarf for Alina to take. What the innkeeper had tried to return. Geralt hasn't got any reason to hold onto it. ]

I don't know what it means yet. [ He isn't saying it outright, because there's no telling for certain. It's clear, nonetheless, that the goal is beginning to alter from Where has Mal gone? to What happened to Mal? ] But I can try to find out. If you'd like.

[ Or he can leave it be, at least where she's concerned. If she doesn't want to know any further, he can respect that. ]

after jaskier gets injured (cadens)

[wiedzminka]

[ Sam has assured her that she can (and should, as he's not taking no for an answer) spend the night. Geralt is with Jaskier and Sam. Jaskier is... on be mend, perhaps. Hopefully.

Ciri still feels a little sick.

She timidly raps her knuckles against Alina's bedroom door, waiting a beat to hear some sort of assent from inside before pushing it open and peeking in with an uncharacteristic uncertainty about her, the set of her shoulders tense and guarded. She's still unwashed, smeared with sweat and blood and wearing an ill-fitting men's tunic she bought for cheap yesterday after she ruined her shirt bandaging up Jaskier's wound. She's been riding hard for two days now, sleeping and eating poorly, and it shows.

By now, Alina probably knows what's going on and why the whole damn Witcher cast Ciri and Geralt are staying over, and that only makes Ciri more uncomfortable and embarrassed. But Sam has suggested she might be able to stay in Alina's room, use their bath and get some rest, and Ciri is... trying. It's too bad they won't simply let her run off into the night. ]

Alina? It's Ciri. Can I come in?

[solmate]

[ Alina doesn't leave Ciri waiting for long, opening the door and gesturing for her to come in. The room had felt odd and empty since Mal's disappearance, and Alina felt guilty for taking it entirely for herself. While the circumstances of Ciri and Geralt's visit isn't pleasant by any means, she is thankful not to be alone.

She leads Ciri to the small bed, softly touching her sleeve. ]

I heard what happened.

[ An invitation to talk about it if she wants. A sympathetic ear. Alina's power is still so new, she's still not sure how to put her feelings about it into words. She wants to be more, she has to be more powerful. But the sun, bright and bold, is also dangerous and unpredictable when too close. ]

[wiedzminka]

[ She follows, shutting the door quietly behind her and toeing off her boots before joining Alina on the bed. The subtle touch, she leans into; her fingers curl around Alina's, squeezing her hand. Even though she continues staring at her knees. ]

He's asleep now. On the mend.

[ That's a great relief. But it doesn't absolve her fully of the guilt she feels, nor the confusion and frustration trying to piece together exactly what went wrong and why it was so strong when she'd only pulled on the magic the tiniest bit. ]

Thank you for letting me stay here.

[ It's more that Sam had insisted she couldn't just go off on her own. She feels a little trapped here, honestly -- but what else is she to do? At least Alina is here too.

Alina, who has her own heartaches to nurse.

Ciri looks up at her finally, turning on the bed to tuck one leg up and face her more fully, their joined hands between them on the blanket. ]

I heard about Mal.

[solmate]

[ Alina plucks at a stray thread on the blanket anxiously. It isn't easy to talk about Mal's disappearance, just how deeply it has shaken her. She hasn't had the luxury to be anything but resilient, but it's exhausting. Sam has already seen her crack, and so she's retreated to this room to guard her vulnerabilities.

With Ciri though... it's different. She doesn't make Alina feel like an outsider or struggle to belong. It's easy and comfortable, and that is at least a small consolation so she doesn't feel quite so abandoned. ]

We looked all over. It's like he just disappeared. [ She's still careful with her words though. ] We've been apart before, but I always knew where he was.

[ Mostly. She doesn't count the time his letters had been stolen before she could receive them, isolation cutting just as deeply now. She sighs, a little pained, but there is no fixing it now. How could she not hold on tighter? ]

Are you doing okay?

[ She tips her head up, hand brushing back against Ciri's, seeking a small bit of comfort and connection. ]

[wiedzminka]

[ Ciri knows what it's like to have someone torn away from you, to feel lost and alone, abandoned by the constant you'd always relied on. She knows the feeling, many times over, and she wishes Alina didn't have to feel this way. ]

I know. Geralt told me-- [ Geralt had gone out to search for Mal, and she'd brought him back, taken him away from important work. Even if Ciri knows it's... extremely unlikely at this point they'll find Mal alive. She still feels guilty.

Her fingers squeeze Alina's, and she leans closer, shoulder to shoulder. She's still dusty from riding out in the desert, wearing clothes that don't fit after she'd torn up her shirt to frantically bandage Jaskier, emotionally drained even though her body has infuriatingly healed completely thanks to the unintentional spell. Ciri sighs, shoulders drooping. ]

We'll be back out there as soon as possible. And I plan to go with him this time. We'll do everything we can to get you answers.

[ Alina's question has no easy answer. No, of course not, she wants to say, but what is the point in that? ]

I'll be all right.

But I...

[ She hesitates, not looking up at Alina. Swallows, a little awkwardly. ]

I'm glad you're here.