IC Contact.

[sankta]

 

STARKOV.ALINA@CDC.ORG
(0) UNREAD MESSAGES

CONTACTS

INBOX

CALL LOG

DOWNLOADS

text message	audio message	voice mail
<span style="font-family:courier;"> <b>SUBJECT:</B> TEXT <b>SENT:</B> DAY #, HOUR <b>FROM:</B> SURNAME.NAME@cdc.org <b>TO:</b> SURNAME.NAME@cdc.org [[200 max character message here]]</span>	<span style="font-family:courier;><b>SENT:</B> DAY#, HOUR <B>CALL ID:</B> CDC ID</span> [[3 minute max message here]]	<span style="font-family:courier;"><b>SENT:</B> DAY #, HOUR <B>( 1 ) VOICEMAIL</B> LAST NAME, FIRST NAME [[3 minute max message here]]</span>

code by unfavoured

Comments

[sturmhond]

[ He keeps a straight face for, maybe, a second or two. ]

I thought it would look fetching. You needn't worry, they'll fit you exactly. Unless I've forgotten your measurements.

[ A sweet little smile. He certainly hasn't. ]

[sankta]

[ Nikolai Lantsov ]

The neck line of this dress goes to my stomach!

[ She holds the dress against herself for emphasis. ]

I'm not wearing this one.

[sturmhond]

[ He moves closer, reaching for the waist of that dress and flattening it against her stomach. His hands settle at her sides, and he looks up at her. ]

It makes for a fashionable neckline, in Fjerda. Trust me, it's all the rage.

It would suit you.

[sankta]

[ her cheeks warm at that and she pushes it back into his hands. ]

I can't wear that around others! There's nothing even to wear something like that to.

[sturmhond]

[ Hmm. Perhaps talking her into wearing it to functions with the Fjerdan Ambassadors will need a rethink.

She's so much more shy than he ever gives her credit. He takes the dress back, folding it in his hands. ]

Not yet, perhaps. It's never a bad thing to be prepared. I'll never understand why you're so opposed to finery. It's as if you think it's embarrassing to let people see you're pretty. Utterly nonsensical, if you ask me.

[sankta]

[ wait.

What? ]

I'm not pretty. That's the embarrassing part. Dresses like those were made for pretty girls with the right curves to fill it in and the face to finish it.

Not scrawny, short sticks with limp hair and tired eyes.

[sturmhond]

[ She's never been quite that frank with him before. He looks at her, assuming that she must be joking.

But she isn't, quite clearly. He reaches out, sliding his hand along her arm to catch her wrist, and tossing the dress onto the bed at the same time. ]

Is that how you see yourself?

[ He tugs her, gently, wanting her to come closer. ]

The 'right curves' would fall out of that dress. Those pretty girls you're talking about couldn't wear it. And at any rate, why would you compare yourself to them? I thought of you when I had these made. No one else.

It's your face I want to see, no matter what you're wearing. Be embarrassed in front of the crowds, if you like, but not in front of me. I know who I'm looking at.

[sankta]

[ She's more frank with nikolai in a way she's not with other people. They work best that way. She's never been scared of his judgement, good or bad.

But this? This surprises her.

She let's him pull her close, her arms eventually going around him. ]

You always know how to say the right thing....

[ that's enough vulnerability for one night. ]

Tell me what happened when you went home

[sturmhond]

[ He looks down, smiling slightly when she hugs him. He settles his arms around her, not tightly, but carefully.

He doesn't want to talk about home. He will, because he knows she has to know, but she won't like it, and he's reluctant. He'd been jolted back to a night that he'd folded away in his memory. Both of them had. ]

I did go back for you, Alina. I tried, but I couldn't see you. Any of you, and the grounds were overrun.

I'm sorry. I had no choice. We had to leave.

[sankta]

You survived.

[ There's a breath of relief. It's been hanging over her head more and more the more attached she is to him and she hugs him tighter.

Then a dark thought crosses her mind. If he can't get to the palace, she didn't win. ]

.... Did I? [ She asks stiffly. ]

or did I die? Did I fail? [ She doesn't even sound scared or sad. More angry. At herself. ] Is the Darkling on the throne?

[sturmhond]

[ And this, of course, is why he doesn't want to talk about it. ]

Naturally. He was very thorough. I don't know what he did with the bodies.

[ Burned them, probably. No doubt there was spectacle involved.

Nikolai's tone is carefully light. ]

Rumour has it you're underground. I don't know where, but if you could possibly find it in your to wander towards the mountains, we might run into each other. That's what I'll be trying for, anyway.

[sankta]

[ dead underground. She doesn't miss the way he hedges the question.

Dead or alive, though. She failed. ]

what's in the mountains? [ her time is less carefree now. Guarded. Professional despite still holding him, though even her hold seems loose and detached now. ]

The Spinning Wheel?

[sturmhond]

Yes.

[ He'd meant for her to go there with him.

But in the end, he'd prioritised his family's safety. The King and Queen had to be protected. He'd only been able to risk so much.

He's not immune to the guilt of that. ]

An old glass building I had renovated, and turned into a hangar bay. It's quite well concealed, just past the Fjerdan border. I can mount attacks from there. Give him a run for his money.

[sankta]

[ always prepared. Leave it to Nikolai to have a secret lair in the mountains prepared to go. ]

Baghra?

[sturmhond]

[ Oh, well. At this, he rolls his eyes, and lifts a particularly annoyed little eyebrow at her. Good. They'd needed to lighten the tone; that was in danger of getting serious. ]

Yes, thank you for that. You might have warned me about her. You get attached to the strangest of people, Alina.

[sankta]

[ there's a sigh of relief.

Then a slight wince. ]

sorry. I forgot to warn you to guard your knees.

Thank you for risking her wrath for me.

[sturmhond]

[ His smile is a little more real, now. ]

I'm not sure she was aiming at my knees. For a blind woman, she's remarkably accurate.

[ He raises his hand, lightly touching her cheek. ]

Find your way to me, Alina. I have a whole chest of these dresses waiting for you. I'd hate for them to go to waste.

[sankta]

[ She rolls her eyes as he ruins a perfectly good moment for wit.

But it does bring her out of her sudden melancholy a bit. ]

They better not all look like that black one or it'll be my aim you need to worry about next .

[sturmhond]

Well, if you had taken a moment to look at the others.

[ He untangles one arm from her to reach to the bottom of the pile, and pick up the kefta - one made for cold weather, and lined with fox fur. He lifts his eyebrows at her. ]

Verdict? Granted it won't show quite the same amount of cleavage, but...

[sankta]

[ but warm....

she grabs at it and buries her face against the fur. ]

this one can stay. It's perfect for Ajna.

[sturmhond]

[ That makes him laugh softly, and he passes it into her hands. ]

I thought you'd approve. The Fjerdan mountains are covered in snow. I had it in my mind you'd be difficult about that.

Apparently, I wasn't wrong.

[sankta]

I am always cold here I need good fur.

[ She eyes last one suspiciously. ]

And that one?

[sturmhond]

For days, where the lace was for nights. A minimal selection, but functional.

[ He glances at the lace again. ]

Or so I thought.

[sankta]

What would I do without you to dress me? [ but she gives him a small hug. She's glad of anything from home. ]

[sturmhond]

[ He hugs her back.

He's so used to her being right here, where he can protect her. Where she's within reach, and he knows what's happening. It had been entirely different at home. He hasn't even had confirmation she was alive.

Saints know, he's not telling her that. ]

By all accounts, you'd run to Novyi Zim and work on staining your fingers orange. Let's try to avoid that, shall we?