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I know that you won't want to hear from me, and I don't expect an answer.
I'm so sorry about Paul. I'm sorry you got attacked again. And I'm sorry about Alia, too. I feel for you. I hate that this is happening to you and the people you love.
I'm so sorry about Paul. I'm sorry you got attacked again. And I'm sorry about Alia, too. I feel for you. I hate that this is happening to you and the people you love.
( after, when the hecticness has settled: )
It still hurts to speak, sometimes.
( it's two-fold: an apology for the text on dani's screen, and the veil she's chosen to hide behind, like a funeral shroud, sparing herself the agony of having to be constantly seen and heard as she feels — half-decayed, some spirit clinging to life. for defiance's sake, if not for the sake of paul's justice, if not for alia's protection. )
Are you alright?
Things got ugly. Well, uglier than last time.
It still hurts to speak, sometimes.
( it's two-fold: an apology for the text on dani's screen, and the veil she's chosen to hide behind, like a funeral shroud, sparing herself the agony of having to be constantly seen and heard as she feels — half-decayed, some spirit clinging to life. for defiance's sake, if not for the sake of paul's justice, if not for alia's protection. )
Are you alright?
Things got ugly. Well, uglier than last time.
Thank you, for Jacaerys.
I am sorry for the pain you have continued to suffer and for my role in weakening your guard. I would send my Aemond to protect you from now onward, if you would allow it.
I suggest we realign ourselves and hunt for the wolves as they have hunted us: Ruthlessly.
I am sorry for the pain you have continued to suffer and for my role in weakening your guard. I would send my Aemond to protect you from now onward, if you would allow it.
I suggest we realign ourselves and hunt for the wolves as they have hunted us: Ruthlessly.
You and I are united in that.
( for all that alina's well of rage is hard to access, in the numb depths of her belly, shipwrecked under the waters of her grief. )
Everything I touch turns to death, Alicent.
You're risking a target on his head if you send him to me.
( for all that alina's well of rage is hard to access, in the numb depths of her belly, shipwrecked under the waters of her grief. )
Everything I touch turns to death, Alicent.
You're risking a target on his head if you send him to me.
None yet. Prince Aemond and I are working on gathering names.
Whoever attacked me brought someone with them to finish the job. That makes the list harder to narrow.
( a staggered beat, allowing the elephant in the room to suffocate her for a moment, before: )
I haven't made many friends lately, either.
Plenty of people might have wished harm on Paul and I.
Whoever attacked me brought someone with them to finish the job. That makes the list harder to narrow.
( a staggered beat, allowing the elephant in the room to suffocate her for a moment, before: )
I haven't made many friends lately, either.
Plenty of people might have wished harm on Paul and I.
We've both lost someone we love. I wish you had returned to better news.
( and that makes for a shared, terrible understanding between them. misery, alina has found, is a stronger bond than any debt paid or alliance offered. )
You can repay your debt by showing Alia mercy. I don't expect you to forgive her, but ...
Some people will hear of your death, and think of her as a monster. But she's just a girl who never meant for any of this to happen.
( and that makes for a shared, terrible understanding between them. misery, alina has found, is a stronger bond than any debt paid or alliance offered. )
You can repay your debt by showing Alia mercy. I don't expect you to forgive her, but ...
Some people will hear of your death, and think of her as a monster. But she's just a girl who never meant for any of this to happen.
hey
so... i'm not going to offer you condolences bc if i were in your shoes those don't mean shit. but if you need a distraction or something, lemme know
i've got weed and know some great music for when you're pissed off
so... i'm not going to offer you condolences bc if i were in your shoes those don't mean shit. but if you need a distraction or something, lemme know
i've got weed and know some great music for when you're pissed off
( the thought is there, even if she doesn't share it: eddie's right that she's tired. that it's hollow guilt. everyone's sorry. no one wants to do anything about it, until it's them. in the quiet of her room, she blows out a heavy breath, trying to breathe past the crushing weight on her chest. )
You're offering me ... weeds?
I think most men offer flowers, at least.
( ???????? )
You're offering me ... weeds?
I think most men offer flowers, at least.
( ???????? )
Alina - it's Hawkins Fuller.
I don't doubt I might be one of the last people you want to hear from, but I wanted to reiterate my apology and extend my condolences.
I didn't know Paul, but Alia is...she's important to me. She spoke highly of him.
And you - I'm sorry they came for you again.
I don't doubt I might be one of the last people you want to hear from, but I wanted to reiterate my apology and extend my condolences.
I didn't know Paul, but Alia is...she's important to me. She spoke highly of him.
And you - I'm sorry they came for you again.
It would petty to hold a grudge when we share a cause. And if Alia is important to you, I can forgive it.
I'm sorry they chose to make an example out of Tim and so many others.
( she's not proud of the first whisper of paranoia that hisses through her — that hawk comes to her as an asset, not a girl. the last thread that could hold the fabric of his life together, if the worst comes to pass. she smothers it in its inception, before it has the chance to poison her trust further, as in need of allies as she is. )
Someone took their failure to kill me personally, I think. They brought someone with them the second time.
I'm not intending to give them a third chance to fix their mistake.
I'm sorry they chose to make an example out of Tim and so many others.
( she's not proud of the first whisper of paranoia that hisses through her — that hawk comes to her as an asset, not a girl. the last thread that could hold the fabric of his life together, if the worst comes to pass. she smothers it in its inception, before it has the chance to poison her trust further, as in need of allies as she is. )
Someone took their failure to kill me personally, I think. They brought someone with them the second time.
I'm not intending to give them a third chance to fix their mistake.
Edited 2024-10-14 04:12 (UTC)
Thank you again for your support back there.
I think we can keep supporting each other. If you're willing to hear me out.
I think we can keep supporting each other. If you're willing to hear me out.
I expected more from a seasoned murderer. Your "mess" was only as impressive as a child's finger painting.
( bitch. )
You might be locked away, but your sister is still trapped upstairs with me. Perhaps I'll give her the same gift you gave me. I've twice the creativity you do, Daniel.
( the darkling taught her many cruelties, but chief among them: a lesson in leverage. everyone loves something. everyone bleeds, if you nick the right artery. even danny johnson, who's behaved no better than a man with catacombs for a heart. )
( bitch. )
You might be locked away, but your sister is still trapped upstairs with me. Perhaps I'll give her the same gift you gave me. I've twice the creativity you do, Daniel.
( the darkling taught her many cruelties, but chief among them: a lesson in leverage. everyone loves something. everyone bleeds, if you nick the right artery. even danny johnson, who's behaved no better than a man with catacombs for a heart. )
Your accusation in the last vote was correct.
It has been Seen, by the one who identified David.
It has been Seen, by the one who identified David.
( violently, her stomach seizes, motion sick with how quickly she shifts from sympathy to vindication. whatever abomination danny johnson is, she hadn't wanted the true confirmation that his rot has spread to jem. )
What do you intend to do?
You saw how quickly they all jumped to defend her.
No one wants to believe she's capable.
What do you intend to do?
You saw how quickly they all jumped to defend her.
No one wants to believe she's capable.
Edited 2024-10-21 21:32 (UTC)
( the first thing he feels is light.
despite his death, his body feels warm when he comes back into himself, a spirit pressed into a body with a little bit extra besides — for being dead he feels surprisingly good, suddenly and vibrantly full of energy, the rhythm of starlight beating inside his chest until his heart picks up the beat itself. beside that, he feels alina. warm, tangible, home. it doesn't instill fear in him to have a piece of her locked inside his ribcage, pressed like a bit of stardust inside his chest. he never knew exactly how powerful alina was before this moment of his rebirth — this is a fractal piece of her power embedded in him like the gold inlay of a leather bound tome, and even that feels like the strength of the sun wholly, burning up his soul in a fierce, beautiful flame. alina's flame.
and it's addictive, this constant feed of her power. paul stands on wobbly legs, basking in it, soaking her and her life in. it's a belated moment of living that catches up, new and shiny and perfect life, and makes him really look at his life source. the tethers of their souls braid together and he sees her, her, giving herself to him, endlessly. she looks — if he's honest, she looks rough, depleted from the giving. a fractional amount of herself, divided in half, and then by half again. more importantly, it doesn't look like she's stopping. he's whole now, alive in his body, and he watches alina move those tendrils of life to the space beside him, creating something — else. something more.
he doesn't really think, just latches onto her with an urgency, driving her out the doors behind her and slamming her a bit ungently to the first wall he encounters. take her out of the room, that's what she said. treat her like a soldier. he winds his arms around her, still glowing a little in the thrush of her magic, pressing her tight. his heart beats against hers and the rhythm is the same — it's her heart, her beat, her life radiating inside his arteries. )
Come back, Alina, my Muad'Dib. My wife, my husband. Come back to me.
despite his death, his body feels warm when he comes back into himself, a spirit pressed into a body with a little bit extra besides — for being dead he feels surprisingly good, suddenly and vibrantly full of energy, the rhythm of starlight beating inside his chest until his heart picks up the beat itself. beside that, he feels alina. warm, tangible, home. it doesn't instill fear in him to have a piece of her locked inside his ribcage, pressed like a bit of stardust inside his chest. he never knew exactly how powerful alina was before this moment of his rebirth — this is a fractal piece of her power embedded in him like the gold inlay of a leather bound tome, and even that feels like the strength of the sun wholly, burning up his soul in a fierce, beautiful flame. alina's flame.
and it's addictive, this constant feed of her power. paul stands on wobbly legs, basking in it, soaking her and her life in. it's a belated moment of living that catches up, new and shiny and perfect life, and makes him really look at his life source. the tethers of their souls braid together and he sees her, her, giving herself to him, endlessly. she looks — if he's honest, she looks rough, depleted from the giving. a fractional amount of herself, divided in half, and then by half again. more importantly, it doesn't look like she's stopping. he's whole now, alive in his body, and he watches alina move those tendrils of life to the space beside him, creating something — else. something more.
he doesn't really think, just latches onto her with an urgency, driving her out the doors behind her and slamming her a bit ungently to the first wall he encounters. take her out of the room, that's what she said. treat her like a soldier. he winds his arms around her, still glowing a little in the thrush of her magic, pressing her tight. his heart beats against hers and the rhythm is the same — it's her heart, her beat, her life radiating inside his arteries. )
Come back, Alina, my Muad'Dib. My wife, my husband. Come back to me.
( everything i touch turns to death, she had warned alicent. it feels like her absolution, to nurture a heartbeat back to life, instead — mother nature giving birth to seedlings where only dry desert rot exists. she can sense the moment where paul's dehydrated, congealed insides give way to new water — every chamber and ventricle replaced with an oasis of light. what she imagines his arrakis must be, every inch commanded by the baked heat of a ruinous sun.
for a moment, it's — beautiful to her, this miracle of life. his heartbeat drums faintly in her belly, as though she had conceived him herself, ever the loving mother, no part of herself kept from her beloved child, her terrible creation. the warning pains of her own body are a distant thing, forgettable, forgivable — the sacrifices made to carry a creature to term, through dizzy spells of vertigo and cramping nausea twisting her guts. the universe narrows down to a singular purpose: to give and give and give so that paul can live, because she can. because it's her right. because it's what's demanded from the duality of a saint — holy fire, or holy mother, destroying and recreating in equal measure.
and then — loss. the coldness of a son's rejection as the threads of power slip from her hands, unspooling. the air pushes out of alina's lungs in a rush as her skull cracks against the wall in all of her frantic writhing, barely able to form the anguished whimper that ekes free. sweat beads on her drawn complexion, wisps of baby hairs plastered to her temples, the aftermath of her labor pains, as she tries — in vain — to reach for what he's denied her. clawing fingers scrape along his forearms, before they shove against the bare plane of his chest, morgue naked — too lost to realize it's worked. that he's here, with her. here, alive. here, for her, because of her. the greatest miracle sankta alina will ever make. )
No.
( it's half unbelieving rasp, half desperate sob-scream as she beats her hand into his sternum, again. lets the heat from her palm burn a fresh scar, handprint-sized, into the (alive, alive, alive with vibrant color) skin. )
Get off — ( hysterical, now — an echo of desperate rage at the unfairness of it all when mal had wrenched her away from a crumbling chapel, the destruction she had needed to make of herself. she grits her teeth, a feral snarl, for the frail and feverish thing she is in his grip. ) Get off of me!
for a moment, it's — beautiful to her, this miracle of life. his heartbeat drums faintly in her belly, as though she had conceived him herself, ever the loving mother, no part of herself kept from her beloved child, her terrible creation. the warning pains of her own body are a distant thing, forgettable, forgivable — the sacrifices made to carry a creature to term, through dizzy spells of vertigo and cramping nausea twisting her guts. the universe narrows down to a singular purpose: to give and give and give so that paul can live, because she can. because it's her right. because it's what's demanded from the duality of a saint — holy fire, or holy mother, destroying and recreating in equal measure.
and then — loss. the coldness of a son's rejection as the threads of power slip from her hands, unspooling. the air pushes out of alina's lungs in a rush as her skull cracks against the wall in all of her frantic writhing, barely able to form the anguished whimper that ekes free. sweat beads on her drawn complexion, wisps of baby hairs plastered to her temples, the aftermath of her labor pains, as she tries — in vain — to reach for what he's denied her. clawing fingers scrape along his forearms, before they shove against the bare plane of his chest, morgue naked — too lost to realize it's worked. that he's here, with her. here, alive. here, for her, because of her. the greatest miracle sankta alina will ever make. )
No.
( it's half unbelieving rasp, half desperate sob-scream as she beats her hand into his sternum, again. lets the heat from her palm burn a fresh scar, handprint-sized, into the (alive, alive, alive with vibrant color) skin. )
Get off — ( hysterical, now — an echo of desperate rage at the unfairness of it all when mal had wrenched her away from a crumbling chapel, the destruction she had needed to make of herself. she grits her teeth, a feral snarl, for the frail and feverish thing she is in his grip. ) Get off of me!
If you're not fully healed when this is over, I can fix what's left.
For what it's worth ... I didn't want to be right. I'm sorry I was.
( it makes it feel worse, somehow, grit and salt rubbed in the open wound — that she'd been correct. that no one had believed her, anyway. that no one's come to admit they were wrong, other than louis himself. )
Did you know you're the only person to say so?
They all had plenty to say before. No one has anything to say to me now.
( it makes it feel worse, somehow, grit and salt rubbed in the open wound — that she'd been correct. that no one had believed her, anyway. that no one's come to admit they were wrong, other than louis himself. )
Did you know you're the only person to say so?
They all had plenty to say before. No one has anything to say to me now.
Edited 2024-11-21 03:59 (UTC)
[ At some point in the afternoon, just as Matt's last breath leaves his body, a small golden light appears in his room. It's about the size of a marble, and instantly, it flutters through the air as if on an errand it knows well. Walls and locked doors are no impediment to it, as it isn't strictly solid, and it leaves no trace behind it.
Eventually, with no apparent explanation, the bauble of light will appear near Alina, drawing her attention to a folded piece of paper with her name on it. ]
Alina,
I wish we had left it with better memories of each other. I'm sorry.
Your art is still my phone background.
Matt
Eventually, with no apparent explanation, the bauble of light will appear near Alina, drawing her attention to a folded piece of paper with her name on it. ]
Alina,
I wish we had left it with better memories of each other. I'm sorry.
Your art is still my phone background.
Matt
[ Some time after the incident with Matt, and after Erik has been thrown around the room a little; ]
Hungry?
Hungry?
( that's the thing about bodies: just because she's failed to care for its needs doesn't mean they've disappeared, even if — like much of everything, lately — she's lost her enjoyment for the silly, frilly luxuries of pastries and breakfast omlettes. through the blanket of her exhaustion, a sudden hunger pang cramps her stomach, in angry protest of her neglect. )
That depends. Am I going to have to join you in the dining area?
My appetite mysteriously disappears when I'm around certain people.
That depends. Am I going to have to join you in the dining area?
My appetite mysteriously disappears when I'm around certain people.
( okay. it's been a minute since alia responded to him, if she ever had, and paul has gone from understanding to angry to downright desperate. in a last ditch effort — )
I'm going to touch all your art supplies.
( and after a second — )
I'm going to touch all your art supplies.
( and after a second — )
( well, that's unintentional salt sprinkled directly into the wound, then rubbed in for good measure. for the sake of her own sanity, she deliberately ignores that it stings at all — not that it's anything new, when her whole heart feels like a bruise, lately. )
Why would I have food laying around?
( says the girl who definitely always has food laying around. )
Why would I have food laying around?
( says the girl who definitely always has food laying around. )
congratulations on your bookstore, alina! ♥ i can't wait to come visit!
i have a little present for you and your first customers. a big batch of them! you can hand them out, or of course keep as many for yourself as you'd like.
i hope you like them. let me know if i can support your store in any way. i'd be happy to supply you with treats any time.
i'm proud of you!
i have a little present for you and your first customers. a big batch of them! you can hand them out, or of course keep as many for yourself as you'd like.
i hope you like them. let me know if i can support your store in any way. i'd be happy to supply you with treats any time.
i'm proud of you!
( her mind whirls through a spin cycle of thoughts. in chronological order, the first: did they have to be shaped as hearts? nami is going to brutally murder her and leave her scattered in the woods. the second: in true sanji fashion, it's overwhelmingly generous — the kind of favor that would demand repayment, or her good favor, if he were less selfless. the third: she can't recall a single person ever speaking those words to her — i'm proud of you, sweet and simple, but as meaningfully layered as any cake she's watched sanji design.
not ana kuya. not baghra, who would dissolve into ash if she even tried to utter them. not mal, or genya, or nikolai — not even the darkling, for all that he had nurtured her power like a favored pet eating kibble from his palm. stupidly, alina's eyes prick with hot moisture for a blip of a second, batted away before wet dew can collect on her eyelashes. )
Oh.
These are
You didn't have to — not that I don't appreciate it, it's only
( — that it's too much. that most kindnesses she's known have come with puppet strings attached to manipulate her. )
not ana kuya. not baghra, who would dissolve into ash if she even tried to utter them. not mal, or genya, or nikolai — not even the darkling, for all that he had nurtured her power like a favored pet eating kibble from his palm. stupidly, alina's eyes prick with hot moisture for a blip of a second, batted away before wet dew can collect on her eyelashes. )
Oh.
These are
You didn't have to — not that I don't appreciate it, it's only
( — that it's too much. that most kindnesses she's known have come with puppet strings attached to manipulate her. )
( she doesn't open the message for a long hour, dreading its contents. it disrupts the pattern she had thought they'd fallen into, besides — her avoidance of him, and lexi's need to be far from her, given how neither he nor dani had sought her out.
it takes even longer to craft a reply when she opens lexi's message to find its a question, and not a condemnation. well, she writes at first. i nearly died, twice. alia turned out to be a murderer. paul and jace came back ... wrong. and every person i accused, when no one cared to take my side, turned out to be as guilty as i thought, and only louis has apologized for it. in a shamed flurry, she backspaces, too wary to burden lexi with it. )
I've been better.
( understatement, when she's quite possibly had the worst two months of her life. still: )
Why?
You've made it obvious you don't want to see me anymore.
( — says local oblivious girl, accidentally taking lexi's coma-disappearance personally. )
it takes even longer to craft a reply when she opens lexi's message to find its a question, and not a condemnation. well, she writes at first. i nearly died, twice. alia turned out to be a murderer. paul and jace came back ... wrong. and every person i accused, when no one cared to take my side, turned out to be as guilty as i thought, and only louis has apologized for it. in a shamed flurry, she backspaces, too wary to burden lexi with it. )
I've been better.
( understatement, when she's quite possibly had the worst two months of her life. still: )
Why?
You've made it obvious you don't want to see me anymore.
( — says local oblivious girl, accidentally taking lexi's coma-disappearance personally. )
[as promised, August steeled himself to the kitchen and made a batch of scrumptious-looking cupcakes. chocolate ganache with raspberry filling. yum! delivered via maid directly to Alina's room with a very nicely written note attached:
𝘈𝘭𝘪𝘯𝘢 -
𝘛𝘩𝘢𝘯𝘬𝘴 𝘧𝘰𝘳 𝘧𝘪𝘹𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘮𝘦 𝘶𝘱. 𝘐 𝘩𝘰𝘱𝘦 𝘺𝘰𝘶 𝘭𝘪𝘬𝘦 𝘵𝘩𝘦𝘮.
- 𝘈𝘶𝘨𝘶𝘴𝘵. ]
𝘈𝘭𝘪𝘯𝘢 -
𝘛𝘩𝘢𝘯𝘬𝘴 𝘧𝘰𝘳 𝘧𝘪𝘹𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘮𝘦 𝘶𝘱. 𝘐 𝘩𝘰𝘱𝘦 𝘺𝘰𝘶 𝘭𝘪𝘬𝘦 𝘵𝘩𝘦𝘮.
- 𝘈𝘶𝘨𝘶𝘴𝘵. ]
( the next time august comes into work, an envelope sticks out invitingly from one of the shelves alina has watched him frequent, pressed between the pages of a book like well-preserved flowers — playing peekaboo, like she's predicted he'll come and find it. inside, there's a simple letter in girly, artsy scrawl:
August,
Definitely a worthy bribe. You've surpassed expectations.
Thank you.
☼ Alina
one more surprise sits tucked away in the corner of the envelope, waiting — a tiny little keychain to match his overcast moods. )
August,
Definitely a worthy bribe. You've surpassed expectations.
Thank you.
☼ Alina
one more surprise sits tucked away in the corner of the envelope, waiting — a tiny little keychain to match his overcast moods. )
Edited 2024-12-04 02:54 (UTC)
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