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[sunmon]

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[morozova]

I doubt the Saints of old wanted that recognition, either.

[sunmon]

It's not Ravka. But it's not terrible. Not on its own.

[ is she really admitting this? to him of all people? ]

My power doesn't mean anything to anyone here. No one needs me.

[morozova]

The weight of the responsibility would be crushing to anyone. I'm not unaware of that, whatever you might think of me.

( not that it would have kept him from pushing her, from using her. )

You should be able to delight in your gift.
I'm sorry that I made you feel otherwise.

[sunmon]

I can, here.

[ but she also knows that mal would never be able to stand it here any more than at the little palace. she knows that she will always have to choose between her power and him. right now, with no way home, it's not a choice. that's freeing in a way. ]

[morozova]

Then I suppose it is fortunate that we will be going nowhere for some time.

[sunmon]

Good. Then you can be patient.

[ he had scared her, his commentary just this side of revolutionary. but she had agreed to this because he was smart. because he knew as she now did that building power was the first step. ]

If you need something to keep you occupied, go clean the studio.

[morozova]

If I finish early perhaps we can go to whatever festival they're holding in town?
I promise to keep my hands to myself.

[sunmon]

[ it would look good, making an appearance. and alina has a lot of catching up to do with looking like a respectable dominant. damn him. ]

Fine.
Clean yourself up first.

[morozova]

Do you want me in anything particular?

[sunmon]

There's a navy suit for you in the downstairs. And a yellow shirt.

[ he isn't the only petty and spiteful one. alina has been an apt pupil. ]

[morozova]

I'll be ready.

-> action

[sunmon]

[ when he gets home from the studio, the navy suit and gold shirt are gone. in their place, alina lounges in a blue recliner in a white dress, legs crossed beneath it. beside her is a black garment bag. ]

Change of plans. [ she gestures to the bag. ] You'll be wearing white. We all will.

[ this is about city compliance. there will be a time and a place to make him wear her color for a change, but it's not this. the sour expression suggests that she doesn't like that she has missed her chance for this. ]

[morozova]

( dark brows lift, attention shifting quickly to the bag. she must have picked it out herself, then. )

Why white? ( it's not a refusal, not really, but it is definitely curious. her expression suggests that the change of plans wasn't her doing, so either this has something to do with the celebration or she's dragging him to some function where there's a dress code.

his fingers slip to the buttons of his shirt, deciding that the specifics don't really matter. )

[sunmon]

Festival tra—

[ oh. he's. taking his shirt off right here. at first alina straightens, then thinks better of it and tries to somehow undo her startled reaction. to sink back into her seat. to blink away her surprise and pretend she had not averted her eyes for a moment.

she has lost her train of thought. ]

... It's festival tradition. We wouldn't want to insult any locals.

[morozova]

It's not really my colour.

( it's idly said. he's much too pale, as it is. the white will probably wash him out, make him seem even less human than he already does.

still: tradition is tradition. )

Though you do look ravishing. ( a sweeping look, taking her in from head to toe. )

Is there anything else I should know?

[sunmon]

[ she opens her mouth, not quite mustering response right away. once he has stripped off his shirt, she is left only to stare, a long-dead ember burning a little brighter in her chest, as if breathed back to life with careful fanning in the form of one simple compliment.

she shuts her mouth, swallows, and tries again. this is going to be a more difficult three months than she had realized. ]

Don't eat anything. We can order dinner later, but I won't have you losing control of yourself while we're out.

[morozova]

That would be unfortunate.

( especially given the form that loss of control generally takes at these sorts of gatherings.

he doesn't drop the shirt on the floor. rather, he sets the shirt carefully on a hanger and places that hanger back into his new closet. )

Though, again, it does lead one to question why they would have their festival colors be white. Given its tendency to stain.

[sunmon]

Tradition is seldom logical.

[ she studies him. the meticulous way he navigates the space. it's so different from jessica's manner, which had the haphazardness better suited to inn rooms and war tents. the darkling is controlling what little he can in a different way, but alina supposes it's ultimately the same habit. ]

We're going to dance. Watch a wrestling match. Make an offering to the gods. That's it. [ the things that people will be looking for good dominants and submissives to do. ]

[morozova]

( an incline of his head, acknowledging the point. )

Well said.

( he returns to the bed, plucks up the new shirt and shrugs it on. fingers going to the buttons, again. nodding along as she talks — though he does make a soft, amused noise at the mention of the wrestling match. that doesn't sound like her style at all. )

And will you be leading? ( a curl of amusement might've slipped through. )

[sunmon]

[ she pushes herself to her feet, leaving the armchair behind. ]

You should watch your tone.

[ she's already put on golden heels that give her a bit of a height gain, but it's not enough. she's too small beside him for her menace to mean much. even with that brand in the center of his chest. ]

[morozova]

( ah, he's struck a nerve. )

My apologies.

( his head dips, looking and sounding suitably chastened. then, his head tips, taking in the full effect of her outfit, heels and all.

one of the few advantages of this place, he thinks, is their tendency toward more revealing forms of fashion. )

I've just never seen you dance.

[sunmon]

You never asked.

[ of course not. he'd never needed to. she was easier to delude than all that, and he had not had any genuine interest in her. not then, anyway.

truth be told, alina hadn't done much dancing in her life. of any kind. she couldn't possibly lead on the floor of a ballroom. fortunately, ] It's community dancing. Like harvest festivals. Someone will teach us both the steps.

[morozova]

I'll have to fix that.

( not now, obviously, but sometime in the nebulous future. )

Believe it or not, but I've not been to a great many of those. Even before the war.

[sunmon]

You just join in with what other people are doing.

[ it feels like he's trying to wheedle pity out of her, some kind of sympathy that will make her underestimate him. the truth is, though, that she hasn't been to many either. a few carnivals had come through keramzin, and she had delighted in them, but in the way of a sickly child. watching others. never joining in herself.

she'd never known it was her grisha power stopping her. ]

[morozova]

Except eating.

( it's a tease, but the sort of tease that you have to know to look for. he won't be eating or drinking, given the choice, no matter how inviting it might look.

shirt buttoned, his fingers are already slipping down to his belt, plucking at the buckle idly. )