#winds & whispers.

[daiyus]

when — may 22 where — water treatment plant who — @gabe-reyes

A classic Volkov skill is interrogation. An art taught through observation first, watching monstrous father make tiny humans out of burly men through cleverly placed words. Like adding pressure on the brain, right in the sore spots, until someone gives in. Daiyu has never been very good at it — it’s something she’s berated for, something she’s excluded from. Which is to say: her father doesn’t want her asking their subjects questions, he only wants her to maim them. He looks at his youngest and knows she’s no good at psychological warfare ( not even the perfect pawn for it ) but so very good at all other kinds of war crimes, if pushed hard enough. He loves her best when coated in blood, which is to say he doesn’t love her at all.

But then, take this situation. A man, wounded. A dark water plant, with no way out. His body littered with man-made wounds that insinuate that there’s someone after him, which might be the biggest issue. Here’s what Daiyu wants: to just see him healed and to not think of him. Here’s what she knows what needs to happen: risk-assessment through questioning and, if necessary, eliminate that threat.

She really does not want to do any of it. The dark presses at the sides of her vision, even with the sharp light of flashlights moving around, and it’s too much like punishment. Too much like the basement. To be literally shut in somewhere, not by the hand of an enforcer or her father, somehow feels bad all the same. Some people believe in God, don’t they? Maybe this is that God punishing them: just another flood meant to cleanse the earth. It would be so easy to believe in such things, but Daiyu doesn’t. Daiyu just knows she can’t show up with a random hurt dude with no idea who he is, if they’re ever to get out of here. 

So, she crouches down. Suri lingers somewhere in the background, that inexplicable spark of a girl that Daiyu cannot begin to understand. There’s a gesture at one of his wounds, a mild threat of digging her fingers through the bandage into marred skin. In stead she extends a half-full water bottle. “So, who’s got it out for you? This shit’s fresh, so is anyone gonna come knocking for you?” Might be a blessing in disguise, if they can get the door open. Daiyu would prefer fighting an intruder over this. “More importantly: why are you here?”

[maraxsinclair]

+ VINCENT ( @vincentholtz​ )

“Here,” Mara says as she tosses Vince a scarf and any other time it might’ve been strange to hand someone a scarf in the middle of May (and a particularly balmy one at that) but not today. “You’ll wanna wrap it around your mouth before we get outside.” The wind howled like a wild thing outside, debris hitting the side of the hotel with more force than she cares to dwell on, rain pelting windows along with dirt and rocks and who knows what else. They’re going out into the very storm in a matter of minutes. The din of voice around them has ebbed and flowed the past half hour after they’ve decided on a plan. Mara and Vincent would head out to inspect the damage to the generator and power grid, reset it and hopefully get radios and comms back online. 

She ties her hair back, pulling on a hat and shrugging on an old, patched up raincoat. Mara glances over at Vincent, still putting on some layers himself. They’ll be grateful for the extra protection against the elements. “Are you sure you want to come?” It’s the second time she’s asked, the first after he’d volunteered and now, minutes before they’re heading out. His support would be invaluable, considering his expertise, but Mara’s confident she can make do without if she needs to. The harsh reality of the situation is that she’d rather go out alone than have to worry about his head being in it. She won’t blame him if he backs out, but she’d rather know before they’re halfway out the door.

[maraxsinclair]

+ OPHELIA ( @kinderdays​ )

The storm rages outside and everyone inside the hotel holds their collective breath. It's like they're all balanced on the edge of a knife. The din of rain on the roof and against the windows, and the steady thump, thump, thump of debris hitting the building doesn't help. 

But Mara can't sit still, years of experience pushing her to action so that she and Nele come up with a plan. Ordinarily, she'd prefer not to get the enforcer's permission but she needs her support. Especially if she’s taking Vincent with her. Alexei’s nephew might not seem important to some, but she knows that if anything happens to him on her watch (or Nele’s), there’d be hell to pay. And all Mara wants is to get to Teddy and Felix, wherever they are.

So she plays by the almost irrelevant rule book and gets approval from the enforcer to head out. Before she does, the doctor scans the crowd of restless individuals. People huddle together in pockets of two or three as the wind whips and howls around them and she looks at each cluster of people, searching for Ophelia. When Mara spots her, she tucks hands into her thread-bare scrubs and makes her way over. Resting a gentle hand on Ophelia's shoulder, she tries to garner her attention. "Hey, can we talk?" Mara doesn't want to worry her colleague but wants her to remain alert while she treks outside. Just in case.

[maraxsinclair]

+ NELE ( @nelefinn )

When the power cuts out and the radios fall silent, an eerie silence fills the hotel. The sirens have stopped their screeching and she can see the group growing restless, the din of panic slowly swelling around them as people begin to harass each other for information, out of fear and concern for loved ones still outside. Mara doesn’t blame them, her mind humming loudly with thoughts of Teddy and Felix, but she knows what happens in times like these – when people give into hysteria, they need time to calm down and find balance again. And yet, she doesn’t see that happening and knows Nele won’t have a choice but to act if they get out of hand.

She hates standing still, idle hands itching for something to do. Not for the first time, Mara’s grateful for her spirit, the one that prompts her to walk up to Nele and clear her throat, already formulating a plan she’d need help with. Glancing at Vincent standing apart from the crowd of people, it crystalizes. “I need a minute,” she says, gesturing towards a corner with a window that hadn’t been completely covered up by dust or rain. It was still too dark to really see past it but it was enough. “We need to get comms back up and running unless you want an uprising you’ll have to put down.” It’s the truth. Plain and simple and ugly. As much as Mara hates to admit it, even she knows that order is essential at a time like this. And restoring it was of paramount importance.

Mara glances over at Nele, “Do you remember when we had that electrical storm in ‘42?” It had been nothing like this hurricane but lightning had struck the hotel twice close succession, short-circuiting its power grid. “They had to do a hard reset since the breakers weren’t working.” She only knew this because the tech who’d gone had cut himself rather badly on damaged metal which had been charred and mangled from the lightning strike. She looks back out the window now and presses her lips together, shifting from one leg to another before voicing her idea. “We need those radios back.” She’s sure Nele knows that, given her position, “So I can go.” She nods as she says it. It’s not ideal but with how on edge everyone was, she doesn’t predict they’d be calm enough to head out into the storm and accomplish what they need to do. But Mara? She’s always thrived under pressure. “I can reset it.”