RUBILYKSKOYE INBOX.

[erosive]

ZOECHKA

ZOYA NAZYALENSKY

Comments

( voice )

[boneblood]

[He's still struggling with the specifics of how texting works compared to letter writing, so he opts for a much simpler avenue:]

If this is going through the way I want it to, where are you? boarding house or elsewhere?

[erosive]

What way do you want it to go through?

[ Look, sometimes we have to ask smartass-like questions! ]

I'm leaving the blacksmith. Where are you? Are you alright?

[ Pls tell her she can punch someone. ]

( voice )

[boneblood]

Without laughing at me too much, do you think you'd have time to spare sometime this week to at least get me more acquainted with holding an axe in my hand?

[Or any weapon, really.]

I know how to use a bow but I would take pointers on everything else.

[erosive]

[ You can't just say "Without laughing" without setting her up to laugh, Wesley! ]

We'll find something you're comfortable with, an axe or a knife or something else entirely.

[ Or whatever else, although it comforts Zoya to know he sees a bow may not be the best weapon to rely on. The time it takes to grab an arrow and position it is too costly in unknown territory.

And Zoya really doesn't want to do any paperwork filing for a new roommate. ]

Are you planning to bring a bow on our trip?

( text )

[boneblood]

I want to sleep, not care about the townsfolk.

[But here he is, caring.]

[erosive]

Then sleep, and not care about them.

[ Easier said than done, she knows. It's not like Zoya can sleep. She's out in the courtyard garden, ignoring the way the shadows play funny little games in her peripherals. ]

It sounds like they were horrible, anyway.

[lambencies]

Zoya. Can I ask you something personal?

[erosive]

Of course. Anything you say will remain between us.

[wrackful]

Food or flowers?

[erosive]

Food.

[ She has enough flowers in her courtyard for now, handsome. ]

But what flowers would you bring me if I chose them?

( voice )

[boneblood]

Was the winter ever a time of giving for you back home? It was for me, but - I don't know the exact dates.

The snow's just reminded me of it.

[erosive]

It was, in theory, if you had the means of giving.

[ Is is possibly more appropriate, but Zoya's uncertain of how to truly answer. Her gift-giving is sporadic and often when she truly means it. (We're all surprised by this.) ]

My country was at war before I was born. It was hard to give when you had so little.

[boneblood]

[On a cold, crisp morning - he's prepared a little basket; inside are three brown paper wrapped parcels, along with some dried fruit, decorative pine cuttings and pinecones and a letter. Inside the parcels are: a uniquely crafted gold ring, a silver hand mirror and one bottle of watermelon liqueur. Personal, practical and fun.

The letter itself is folded twice, wrapped in light twine:]

Zoya,

I don't think words alone could ever truly capture the way you make me feel, nor just how I consider myself lucky to have met you here. You have changed the trajectory of my life in more ways than one, and I find myself eagerly looking forward to every morning I wake in your company. I hope these small trinkets can help better describe my feelings by being reminders of my care and affection day to day.

With love,
Wesley.

[erosive]

[ For the record, Zoya is great at gift giving. She'd given Alina Starkov a kefta and a promise that she would always be one of them—the Grisha, the soldiers who lived, the girls who rose from the ashes of the Darkling. She'd given her aunt a mirror to remind her of how Zoya saw her, as one of the most beautiful people she'd ever known.

It's hard to figure out what to give Wesley.

And it's not because he's difficult to understand. Wesley is soft and gentle and tenacious. He's everything good in Rubilykskoye. If it weren't for him, she'd have shared a room with someone else—perhaps an actual idiot—and forgotten what it's like to have a true friend.

It's days later that she leaves on the kitchen table a small knife, expertly created, although there's a slight imperfection in the handle. The top of the handle is an orange tiger head. While white tigers mean something important to Zoya, she doesn't wish to associate Wesley with the tigers of Ilmisk. ]

Wesley,

To the biggest idiot I know -

Try not to trip and stab yourself with this.

I don't know what I'm supposed to get someone who means more to me than any language can express. I also know if I try, you'll be obnoxious about it and remind me of what I wrote, so I'll write nothing at all and tell you this.

Orange is the color of warmth. Tigers represent strength, courage, and independence. When you put them together, you get Wesley Price.

The Blacksmith helped me with the handle's details. The rest is made of Grisha power. Use it to protect yourself when I'm not there to do it. If anything happens to you, I'll bring you back and kill you myself. I hope one day you see yourself as I do. You're more than the boy who believed he existed in shadows and beneath another's thumb. You deserve to be in the sun, much like a tiger prowls and lets no one tell him what he is.

Thank you for reminding me what friendship is, and for never letting me feel like I'm alone in your company.

Lyubov,
Zoyecka

( voice )

[boneblood]

[He's walking home from the library mid-day, and it carries into his tone of voice that he's perhaps... hurrying in his stride a bit:]

Have you heard what... is going around town?

[Talk of chastity devices. Zadza condensing. Mildly concerning things.]

[erosive]

[ Zoya's voice comes across annoyed. (It's a different kind of annoyance to her usual every day annoyance.) For once, she's at home, not quite relaxing as one would when having a "day off". ]

These idiots think they can intensify the release of zadza by temporarily abstaining.

[ Can he hear the eye roll? ]

It's absurd. Who's to say it won't make things worse?

1/3

[telepathy]

murphy is lost

[ there's no preamble, no introduction. zoya's name had been on the list that murphy had shared when he'd gone to cook for the duchess. people to tell if he didn't come back. it seems only reasonable to do it now. ]

Backdated: Jan 16th ; text

[sapphyre]

Do you have any way of tracking me?

[erosive]

[ Is this when Zoya admits she can probably track him by smell? Is it too early in the relationship? Okay. ]

Why?

What have you done?

Letter

[princess_of_ida]

[This letter, written in Rubean by an unknown hand in an unrecognizable script, was discovered in the library by Wesley, left where he'd find it. On the outside of the envelope was written Zoya, the contents sealed by plain, unadorned candle wax. The letter inside was short.]

Does the dragon bask in the sunlight or hide within the shadows? Declare, zmei.

[The letter was unsigned and no means for reply were given. Ianthe wanted to see what Zoya would do, given that she'd written that last word in Ravkan. She'd been slowly learning the language since November.]

Letter

[erosive]

[ Perhaps if Wesley weren't the one to hand her the letter, she'd have thrown it out. There are a few people she considers having authored it, but she knows it's none of them. For one, she knows their handwriting.

A few days later, she entertains a reply and leaves it in the library herself. No point in asking Wesley to do it—it means she has no reason to see him. ]

The dragon glides within the freedom of the skies, and even entertains wetting her talons skimming along the surface of the True Sea.

If you want to know something, stop beating around the bush. They tend to burn to ash when dragons are toyed with.

text

[cacotopia]

good evening

[erosive]

I was having a good evening. Now it's up in the air if it continues to be as such.

[ Hi, Petre. How are you? Good? That's fab. ]

text at some insane hour in the night

[lascivient]

zooooooooooooooya

[erosive]

[ She ignores him. This is your permission to be obnoxious af. ]

( voice )

[bloodflows]

you alive

cat alive?

[erosive]

She has a name.

[ The disrespect for our child! ]

( voice ) 15 or 16th of may

[boneblood]

With only a couple hours until close, today's been yet another uneventful day at the library.

Which I'm quite pleased about.

[erosive]

You pray for boredom?

[ She understands what he means, of course. No deaths near the library. No bloodstains to clean up on aisle… horny. No need to worry if Wesley is dead today. ]

may 18 post-death, i'm in ur inbox again i do what i want

[cacotopia]

when you come back

just say the word

i'll rip his face off

may 24 bc i, too, do what i want

[erosive]

[ Oh, Petre. You little gremlin of a man. He knows how to make a woman's heart almost burst. ♥ ]

How do you propose you'll do that? Your nails are very blunt.

[ Surprise, bitch. She's alive! ]

text

[cacotopia]

[ so this just happened ]

you're a dragon???

[erosive]

[ For Saint's sake—who's blabbing? ]

What did you think 'Dragon Queen' referred to, Petre?

[ Her tourney moniker blah blah blah. ]

are you ready for the most convoluted 'u up' text from a guy who's no fun

[sapphyre]

You're not on patrol.

i was not ready for this

[erosive]

What an astute man you are, Aemond Targaryen.

[ aka no shit babe ♥ ]

What other things have you managed to notice?

( coma times )

[boneblood]

I don't know if you can hear me. I like to think you can.

Looking at you, there's no way to tell. But I'll be here, waiting for you.

Come back to me.