#drakoniya

[pistolslinger]

ur dash theme omg :Eye:

its not as raw n powerfully emotive as urs, but i did my best!

[pritvolny]

if there was something that nikolai enjoyed more than being the youngest man in a conference room full of old rich businessmen with upturned noses, it would be watching their composure crack whenever he plainly refuted all their backhanded commentary about how should be running his business — all without letting his grin falter even once. zoya was sat next to him, every inch of her tailored suit radiating authority. her gaze alone enough to pin the row of suited executives squirming across from her. nikolai could tell her patience was wearing thin with him; but it was a small relief to have her suffer these insults with him,

❛   just sit there and look pretty and let me handle this.   ❜ @drakoniya murmured from behind her teeth, her words sharp like the crack of a whip.

nikolai leaned back in his chair as a response, most obedient as ever, but his voice dripped every bit of mischief and honey. ❛   gladly. ❜ he turned towards her, his breath catching for an infinitesimal moment. the blue in zoya's eyes were always a shock to him — like moonlight over darkened seas, pulling him under before he even realises he's drowning. ❛   but what is your plan then? because when I sit looking pretty, people start offering me their companies, their hearts, and occasionally their dessert. I don't want to risk falling asleep at this incredibly informative board meeting.  ❜

[kosytk]

zoya takes up space in his workshop, lounging in the corner on the plush chair that, if she weren't there idly pulling at the tassels on the cushions, he would usually read upon. as it stands, he is restless ( more so than his usual ) and busies himself with any number of his formulas that remain unfinished, strings of numbers and some of physical matter that he tinkers with, brow creased and lips set into a frown. he doesn't mind her there so long as she is quiet, but zoya is never quiet and she is not the kind of person he can shush without experiencing the fallout from such a thing. so he doesn't dare --- he knows better. knows her, better.

though he can feel her eyes boring into his turned back, and sensing the intensity of them, his shoulders roll as though uncomfortable. she wants him to speak, he thinks. but he's content in his troubled silence only broken by the odd sigh, a wordless remark of understanding for what lies in front of him, as it all comes together in recognition and understanding that he can write down with a flourish of his pen against paper. “ if you have something you came to say, zoya --- ” the words break the quiet of the space though his tone lays low, barely there at all if only that he knows she's waiting, he sounds faraway, almost disinterested. “ i think you should say it before you pull the strings out of my cushion and it falls apart. i like that one. ” he lifts an object to the light and inspects it, one eye closed before it is placed down again. and she knows him well, that much he begrudgingly, unknowingly finds comfort within. she says, you're worried about something. and leaves no room for david to refute it, in her existence always a finality.

“ hmm ? oh, yes. worried about leaving behind unfinished work when we depart. ” he supplies smartly, tone lifting in faux amusement, though he knows it won't placate her. he waits. and then he wishes he'd denied her his chair. i believe you're actually worried about genya. zoya says, and a breath stalls. he stops his distracted working, just for a minute and allows her a moment, turning to face her and the small of his back resting against the height of his desk. “ i don't worry about genya. ” the shake of his head, because it doesn't sound right. as he thinks, he plays with the object in his hand, twirling it absently through his fingers with ease. “ genya is imperishable, she gives me no cause for concern. ” david's nose wrinkles as though forgetting something. “ i worry for genya. ” everything else that could touch her, everything that already has. everything that has touched them all. call him finicky over her wording, but his brow twitches as the words settle, true. voice softer when speaking about her in a way so undeniable, if he were more aware of how sickeningly doting it sounded, maybe he'd try to hide it for the benefit of others. as such, he can't. “ don't you ? isn't that why you're here, then ? ”

@drakoniya.

[razshaya]

the capital of kerch seemed even darker than the looming warehouses and gray buildings made it with the shadows the clouds cast. genya’s head tilted upwards to study the dark masses rolling dangerously above them. the last thing she wanted to do was to get caught in the rain when she had donned her finest kefta for the occasion. the bright red coat made her stand out like a sore thumb and she tried her best to not shrink away from the relentless stares the pair had received ever since they docked their ship. it wasn’t everyday that the newly crowned queen of ravka came trapezing through ketterdam. genya couldn’t exactly blame all the whispers and less than covert glances.

the two had made good time from the docks to little ravka and as they weaved through the wide road a rickety stall caught her attention. among the other stalls lining the streets it looked rather unimpressive despite the antiques lining its display. it was one particular item that drew the tailor to the merchant. genya bent at her waist to examine the golden mold. the seller said something in a low drawl that she didn’t catch but she offered an apologetic smile nonetheless as she scooped the metal into her palm.

it didn’t look anatomically correct. but she wasn’t exactly sure if a preserved heart was meant to hold its shape. she held it out to @drakoniya with a teasing grin. “ i’ve saved you much trouble and found exactly what you’re looking for. you can thank me later. ” if only it were that easy. she placed the bronze heart back on the stand and easily slipped her arm into the crook of zoya’s as she pulled them away from the vendor. once they were out of earshot she asked. “ if even ketterdam has relic replicas, how exactly are we to trust that we won’t be duped by this thief you and nikolai are so keen to hire ? ”

genya wasn’t particularly looking forward to their future partnership with kaz brekker, not after the stories she’d heard about the crows. while they were exceptional criminals, the facts remained exactly that: they were criminals. two seemingly naive ravkans seemed like perfect targets to her. they came with a hefty reward and yet no insurance she was aware of. or perhaps none she had been privy to. she looked over at her company and quirked a brow. “ you must have something under your sleeve you’re not telling me. ”

[kosytk]

GROWLED AND BARKINGGGG

DOWN GIRL

[svetosila]

FROTHING AT THE MOUTH RN

WE ARE SOOOOO BACK BABEY

[bllakcat]

THERE IS NO INFORMATION THE CAT COULDN'T GET INTO HER CLAWS, : BUT THIS NEEDED NO INTRODUCTION. something, someone, feared by many ... tongue armed with thorns something that matches fire within battles. and yet felicia? here the feline fatale is ; merely observing with a signature smirk, &. splayed perfectly, BALANCING EFFORTLESSLY atop what remains of the ruins ... the coldness of the stone almost radiates through the signature suit. ❝ well done, ❞ praise purred silvertongue, but tongue is dipped into a tease. she watches as the enemies lay upon the ground, about to go cold. ... AN EXHALE, as she moves with smooth, graceful movements ; pushing herself to stand. gaze returns to @drakoniya , &. mischief glimmers within jades! ❝ you put on quite the show. ❞

sc.

[razshaya]

in the damp tunnels underneath the sprawling merchant city,     two girls maneuvered around sharp corners and sloping bends.    led by the weak light of a lantern enclosed flame,   the grisha strained her eyes to make out the small moving patch of their path that made itself visible to her with each wary step forward.   only an arms length in front of her was the fading silhouette of an all too   familiar   woman.    tall and slender with a head of sleek raven hair that rippled like a curtain with the finality of her long strides.    @drakoniya​    hadn’t seemed to tire once since their journey had begun.    like a well trained soldier,   she marched with her shoulders taut and chin high.    she was a polished result of the ravkan second army and genya couldn’t help but wonder if she would have been the same had her circumstances been different.    would it have braced her for the battles and losses they had yet to heal from   ?   had zoya healed from the successions of graves they had dug   ?

ravka was broken.   and their frail shoulders,   just barely shaped from the years of early adulthood and its responsibilities,   were now weighed down with the burden of picking up the shattered remains of a nation.  it was why they scoured the city streets in the night and travelled below ground in the day.    a kingdom was nothing without it’s people and it’s people had become scarce.    its people had been buried six feet under.  

genya stopped to catch her breath,   resting her palm against the damp stone walls that curved around them.    ❝   are you certain we are going the correct way ?   ❞   she wiped the beads of sweat off her brow with the sleeve of her kefta.    even now,   months after she had been gifted the   blood red   garment,   she would pause to admire its pigment.   so foreign from the ivory whites that had once blanketed her every waking moment.    both were a painful reminder of sacrifices she had never asked to make.    with a deep inhale,   she dropped her hands to her hips and planted herself in her spot.    ❝    by now,   it feels like we’ve travelled across half the city,   any longer and I’m sure the moles will accept us as one of their own.   ❞