abraxaslogs

Entry tags:

002

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!

Threaded | Top-Level Comments Only

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.

Edited 2021-10-01 02:44 (UTC)

[ 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.

Edited 2021-10-01 02:33 (UTC)

[ 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?

Edited 2021-10-01 03:07 (UTC)

[ 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?

[ 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.

[ 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.

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.

[ 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. ]

"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."

[ 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. ]

[ 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?

[ he can tell from the expression she makes that he's said something wrong again - or perhaps not wrong, necessarily, but something that has sent her off down a path that is not where he'd wanted this conversation to go.

stepping in front of her is a dangerous move, he knows, but he can't let her leave that quickly. not until he knows what she's planning. he'd had a better handle on mal, on what he would do and where he would turn, when it came to all of this. there are very few things that sam knows about alina, fewer that he would trust himself with assuming, but as she pushes by him and makes for her boots, he watches her stumble, and without really thinking sam reaches out to stop her from tumbling fully onto the floor. once she's steady on her feet again, he'll let her go, but for now he really just...he worries. he doesn't want her hurting. ]

You weren't waiting, Alina. You were here in case he came back. If no one had been home, he would have gone back out again, and we wouldn't have even known.

[ he lets go, his hands still out. he is trying to stop her, still, which means that if she plans to try and shove her way to the door, he's going to be a bit more forceful with his stopping her. there is something he needs to be communicated, something he needs to know, before she can leave - because he's not going to stop her entirely, he doesn't really think it's his place to, but he knows he would regret it if he didn't try. ]

He's a tracker, right? And a hell of a shot. He can protect himself and find his way back, but he needs to know there is something to come back to. Right? You weren't just waiting. You were here for him if he came back last night. And now that he hasn't, we adjust.

[ sam remembers how mal had been, while alina was still down in the dungeons. the restless, near-panicked energy he'd carried with him. he can see echoes of it in alina, now, as he struggles to find a way to meet it. to help.

she wants to go looking for him, and she's not going to stop until she has to have a chance to do it herself. sam knows the feeling, knows the feeling well, which is partially why he takes another step back from her. trying to ease away from the 'cornered' feeling, but still in the way of the door. ]

Ten minutes, that's all I'm asking for, and then we can come up with a plan. I'm gonna help you look, and Geralt's helping too. He's a tracker, like Mal. Probably better than both of us, put together. [ he's trying to sound self-deprecating, more than anything. sam knows his strengths and knows his weaknesses and works to fill them both.

he just hopes it lands, with her. hopes any of this lands. he tilts his head a bit to the side, trying to catch her eyes so she can - hopefully - catch on to how genuinely serious he is about his next words. ] We're going to figure out what happened- and if he's here, we'll find him. I promise. [ a beat, and then- ]

Give me a chance to help.

Edited 2021-10-12 14:21 (UTC)

[ 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?

[ Sam tries to make justify for her behavior but she's not buying it. It's a a comfortably stretched lie to excuse acting poorly, making the bad decision. She should know, she's an expert in them.

Finally, she pauses, for no other reason than she cannot maintain this pace and not cry, and she absolutely does not want to cry in front of Sam. She sniffs, subtly wiping her eye as rolling her shoulders back to feign confidence, puffing up like an animal bluffing about its size. A measured breath to stop herself. She has to be strong, because she has no choice. She's never had the luxury to be anything else.

Her features pull, uncertain, pained, and skeptical. It's not that she thinks Sam lying to her about all the efforts he and Geralt have already put in or that he doesn't want to genuinely help. It's just that it's so foreign that someone would care about either of them. Orphans, ghosts. They aren't even anything special or out of the ordinary here. ]

Why? [ Her voice is thin; it almost cracks. ] I don't... I don't understand why you won't just let me go.

[ It's not accusatory, but there's an unstated question slipped beneath it. She can't understand why he'd help. Why he'd care. At least they paid rent and worked jobs and were generally useful around the house, so day to day she didn't have to think of anything beyond the basic utility they provide. At least Mal kind of made sense. He was endearing and charming, but that alone doesn't get this kind of effort in return forever.

And part of this seems distinctly for her, to help her, to carry some of the weight for her. She's forgotten how to share that burden, if she ever knew how to in the first place. Not to mention that kindness isn't an unlimited resource given so freely. Each dose of it she's received from anyone but Mal in recent history has been cunning and calculated, meant to pull her along and make her believe she is something of value.

She doesn't think Sam is like that. She doesn't want to think Sam is like that. But can she afford the risk? ]

Please. [ She is genuine in her pleading. ] I don't know how to explain it, but— [ She has to pause, swallow down the crack in her voice ] —if Mal is here, then I know I can find him.

[ It's as true and as deep as the rules of the small science. Like to like. She doesn't know how she knows that, she doesn't know why it would be true, but they always find each other again. Always. ]

Let me go, and I'll be back before dark. I promise.

[ 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. ]

[ but it wasn't a bad decision, is what he's trying to get her to understand. it wasn't the one she wanted to make, maybe, but it tactically wasn't a bad decision. someone needed to be here, and her being that person wasn't...

god, he's really just grasping at straws here. usually, he's better at this. usually, he has a better handle on these scenarios. what to say, what people need, how to react. it's a strange place to be in, realizing his own footing is off just slightly enough to shift his balance. that mal disappearing, that mal being gone, hits him hard enough to cause it.

he can only imagine what she's going through. which is what he has to remind himself - he's had hours to come to this conclusion, to process, where does that leave her? sam watches as she pulls herself together, as she puffs herself up. she forcing an appearance, in front of him, and it feels...god, it feels bad, thinking they've been living this long together and she still feels like she has to. ]

Because I'm worried about you, Alina. [ it comes out quickly, honestly. where her voice nearly cracks with the question, sam feels like he's filling space. overflowing, not caring so much to be reserved, or gentle, with his emotions. ] Because I know what it feels like when someone is gone, and you're desperate to find them. [ and maybe there is more he can say, here. more about how it feels to lose someone who is your right side, half of your whole. sam doesn't understand, entirely, the relationship between alina and mal, but he does know what it feels like to lose your best friend. and even if this isn't at all the same, there are enough similarities, enough panicked looks. mal isn't dead, mal didn't fall into the sand, but mal is gone and alina is looking for answers.

once again, sam looks at alina and is reminded of a wounded animal. someone who has been hurt, probably by people she trusted. it's why he never pushed himself into her space, why he'd never push, not even now. why, even as his own words feel a bit like a plea in and of themselves, he doesn't step closer to her. how he actually lets his hands fall to his sides. he wants to help so badly, and he wants to make sure she is safe, in part because he cares, but in equal part because he knows that is all mal would ask of him. just as it was all he asked of him in the castle, too.

but her pleading is honest, and sam feels himself start to deflate a little. how do you say no, to something like that? ]

Okay. [ it comes after a pause, where sam just kind of watches the emotions cross alina's face. part of him nearly mentions how he'd never want to keep her here against her will, how - if she'd really wanted to go - he would have let her. but she offers that last bit of it, that i'll be back before dark, and sam feels a sort of panicked tension leave his chest. ] Okay. If you can be back before dark... [ his eyes flit over to the little nest he'd set up for red in the corner, red and silver feathers, settled and staring back. part of him thinks about sending red to follow her, just in case, but thinks better of it.

this is all about trust, isn't it? how he wants her to trust him, and how he has to trust her in return. they are but strangers, to each other, no matter how he might wish it to be different. so sam takes a breath, and pulls himself back together again - taking a breath and setting his hands on her shoulders, leaning down a bit to catch her eyes. there's nothing inherently aggressive about the movement, or at least he hopes so, as he gives her a small, tired smile. ]

If you find him, kick his ass for worrying us all, okay? And I'll see you tonight.

[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.]

[ 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.

[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.]

[ 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.

[The abruptly casual factor could be worse: she might have caught him shirtless and in comically high-waisted pants.

That they're each perched on the edge of a bed, in their respective rooms, does make this somehow more intimate than invasive. The sense of it creeps in as he watches her legs move. So informal—so contemptibly endearing. Rotten girl.]

So you'd rather visit me in mine?

[In case she's unaware.]

Even young habits die hard, I suppose. So, tell me— [He sets the brush off to one side; being similar in tone to the bedspread, it all but disappears when his hand leaves it.] —are the Cities as free as advertised?

Edited (no, shittier) 2021-10-16 07:18 (UTC)

[ She supposes there are logically few other places he would be without his boots, but her spine still stiffens. Not at the fact that she has made her way to his quarters, but that it is an again, that she can make no excuses of chance of the previous times that she had visited him. ]

Why? Are you thinking of moving? I can find you a job shoveling horse shit in the local stables.

[ So defensive, it isn't just about a dig at her own habits. Not all is well in the Free Cities, a place she still knows so little about except that they have a very distinct opinion about the Singularity. ]

Edited 2021-10-17 00:12 (UTC)

No, thank you.

[Like this conversation is happening across a table, not a continent.]

That's more your loyal companion's speed. Given how handy he is with a shovel. [Ha ha. We have fun here. Next he sets the boot aside; it becomes a dark smudge where it lies.] How is he?

Edited (dw please) 2021-10-17 02:42 (UTC)

[ Man she walked into that one. At least the clang was satisfying. It's seared itself into her memory. ]

Quite well, thank you. [ Somehow, she doesn't think he's actually interested. And she really isn't interested in saying anything about Mal too him. She would like to keep Mal as far away from this fight as possible. ] I hear you're making friends as well. Or errand boys. A Mr. Ralston came to visit me in the Horizon on your behalf.

[ Did they really have a deal? No matter, she thinks Ralston would have thrown her under the carriage just as quickly if he needed a quick exit from a topic. ]

[ 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. ]

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kylo (horizon)

kirigan (tether)

sam (cadens)

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shortly after mal's disappearance (cadens)

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after jaskier gets injured (cadens)

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at last

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