And in the sea that's painted black | OTA

[novokribirsk]

WHO: Zoya Nazyalensky, Nikolai Lantsov, and yOU
WHAT: Two new rifters arrive, shenanigans ensue.
WHEN: Nowish
WHERE: Gallows, Kirkwall
NOTES: N/A

Comments

does the same shhhhh

[inkindled]

"Yeah," Matthias agrees, readily, and just as scornfully. Well. "That's what I think, leastways. Me and others. I'd like for it to be a long-term thing, right, for them really to give a damn about us, but I reckon I know too much about how it all works now. The only one that gives a damn about us, really, is us. Most everyone else only wants something."

He folds his arms over his chest, satisfied with this assessment. It might be cynical, and he might be exaggerating just how much he actually knows. Better, maybe, to say that he's gleaned this hardened wariness from others who might actually know. But that's nearly the same thing, isn't it? Either way, he knows.

"But you only have got an army, where you're from. There's none of that shit about. Circles and, you know, choices and politics and votes and all. That's brilliant. I wish it were so easy here. The First Army," and there might as well be little sparkles around the words, with the amount of reverence Matthias gives. "Who's in the Second Army, then, when it's at home?"

handclasp

[novokribirsk]

"Some things don't change."

Nikolai is, of course, different; but most otkazat’sya only care for Grisha for the distance they give them, for the peace they buy them.

"The Second Army," she corrects — not ungently, actually. Don't tell anyone. "The First Army is for those without powers. We call them otkazat’sya. I don't know what you would here."

She hasn't heard of any equivalent term, actually. Just mages for those with power, and nothing for those without. She doesn't like that, now that she stops to think about it.

"There's a draft, for all children of a certain age. We have nothing but enemies at our borders, so our military needs all the help it can get."

[inkindled]

"Oh, you said that before, sorry. Right. Oat-katz-zatya." The word is clumsy in his mouth and definitely not pronounced correctly, but he did say he was sorry. "S'ppose we'd only say soldiers. Or knights, or Templars, even, I s'ppose," but even to Matthias, none of those answers really seem right to describe what she's getting at. Why would there be a name for someone without magic? It's mages or not-mages. And Templars are absolutely something different besides.

"But you weren't drafted, were you? To the Second Army? That was different, obviously." I'd think it would be the opposite, y'know? First for mages--Grisha, sorry--and second for everyone else, 'cos they'd not be as useful. I wonder why it's the other way around. D'you know?"

This endless stream of words and questions he doesn't apologize for, but he should, probably.