OPEN POST ▪ PIC PROMPTS ✔ ▪ BODY HEAT/SNOWED IN ✔ ▪
HURT/COMFORT ✔ ▪ WORD ASSOCIATION ✔ ▪ SMUT ✔ ▪
TEXTING ✔ ▪
RANDOM STARTERS ✔ ▪
BOOK AND SHOW UNIVERSES ✔
[ If Jesper asked if Inej was excited to return home, she'd of course tell him the truth: she was. She is. She's excited to come back, to see if Ketterdam has remained the same dark shadow that she remembers it being. But she's also excited to see how it's changed beneath their hands. Does the sunlight filter in differently now? Is the air lighter? Has the filth been cleaned from the streets?
Inej sends a letter via raven when she's a fortnight out from docking at Fifth Harbor. She doesn't send another, although she writes. She writes of how she misses them all, with personalised letters to Jesper, Wylan, Nina, Kaz, and even Matthias. She knows she'll give her letters to Jesper and Wylan to see the bursting smile on Jesper's face and Wylan's delicate blush. She'll save her letters for Nina when she meets with her later in the year. But Kaz… Perhaps some things are better left unsaid.
When she docks at berth twenty-two, Inej isn't quite sure when she had started to hold her breath. Was it a fortnight ago? Or back when she had told Kaz she had left Sankt Vladimir at the Geldrunner? Was it even before that, when he had stood between her legs in the Geldrunner's bathroom? It hardly matters; all that matters now is that she can breathe again in a city that had threatened to smother her over and over. It won't now. She won't let it; she knows he won't, either.
She works quickly, a little more clumsily as she sets The Wraith to anchor. If Specht notices how frazzled she is from her spike of adrenaline, he's kind enough to say nothing.
But there's a figure at berth twenty-two, a silhouette she'd seen standing there before The Wraith was even close enough to slow and dock. She knows who it is. She's always known that once she chose to return to Ketterdam, he'd be waiting.
With her crew bustling around her, Inej finally takes her leave along the gangway. She can't help but smile at him, dressed in all his shadowy blacks. He's always been a commanding presence to her; handsome in a way that isn't overly arrogant. She likes how bright his eyes are. ]
Inej sits on the windowsill with one leg pulled up to her chest. Ketterdam hasn't changed from this angle, even if she can sense that it's lighter now. The shadows are still where she remembers them, and the crows she'd fed almost every day return to her as though they knew she was coming back to them.
She'd docked hours earlier at berth twenty-two at Fifth Harbour with the sun beginning to rise from its slumber in greeting. There'd been very little time for any pleasantries; despite being on land, she still had a job to complete and people to settle into their new lives, a luxury she owed to Kaz. After spending most of the morning escorting the handful of people she had saved from slavers into the city with Specht preparing their documentation, Inej had simply wanted to be. She'd wanted to exist in the bubble of home and see how much it stretched to accomodate her new shape. She'd let her crew go about the city as they pleased with the expectation that they'd board The Wraith in five days' time to set sail again.
Rather than go to a waffle house and eat in Nina's stead or go to one of the food establishments she'd been dreaming of for the past week, Inej returned to the Slat. Despite missing the Dregs, she'd slipped inside and up the creaking staircase and tiptoed inside of his room knowing that he'd know where to find her.
He's the one she's desperate to see, even though Inej will never let anyone, not even the True Sea, know that's what she's desired since she wrote to him to let him know she was returning home for a few days.
When the staircase creaks beneath his familiar weight, Inej ignores the fluttering in her chest. Sitting up straighter, she doesn't look toward the door. He must know she's already here. Where else would she go, if not to one of her favourite perches in one of her favourite open-door cages?
"The crows look fat," she says, not looking up at him. She ignores the way her skin prickles and her senses hone in on him. She's missed him terribly, from his scowl to his frowns to the way he sometimes lets himself smile. "Someone's been overfeeding them."
![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
— @trogat; I CAN'T SEEM TO SAY GOODBYE.
[ If Jesper asked if Inej was excited to return home, she'd of course tell him the truth: she was. She is. She's excited to come back, to see if Ketterdam has remained the same dark shadow that she remembers it being. But she's also excited to see how it's changed beneath their hands. Does the sunlight filter in differently now? Is the air lighter? Has the filth been cleaned from the streets?
Inej sends a letter via raven when she's a fortnight out from docking at Fifth Harbor. She doesn't send another, although she writes. She writes of how she misses them all, with personalised letters to Jesper, Wylan, Nina, Kaz, and even Matthias. She knows she'll give her letters to Jesper and Wylan to see the bursting smile on Jesper's face and Wylan's delicate blush. She'll save her letters for Nina when she meets with her later in the year. But Kaz… Perhaps some things are better left unsaid.
When she docks at berth twenty-two, Inej isn't quite sure when she had started to hold her breath. Was it a fortnight ago? Or back when she had told Kaz she had left Sankt Vladimir at the Geldrunner? Was it even before that, when he had stood between her legs in the Geldrunner's bathroom? It hardly matters; all that matters now is that she can breathe again in a city that had threatened to smother her over and over. It won't now. She won't let it; she knows he won't, either.
She works quickly, a little more clumsily as she sets The Wraith to anchor. If Specht notices how frazzled she is from her spike of adrenaline, he's kind enough to say nothing.
But there's a figure at berth twenty-two, a silhouette she'd seen standing there before The Wraith was even close enough to slow and dock. She knows who it is. She's always known that once she chose to return to Ketterdam, he'd be waiting.
With her crew bustling around her, Inej finally takes her leave along the gangway. She can't help but smile at him, dressed in all his shadowy blacks. He's always been a commanding presence to her; handsome in a way that isn't overly arrogant. She likes how bright his eyes are. ]
Were you out for a morning walk?
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— @greedbowstome; FEEL THE WEIGHT ON YOUR SKIN.
She'd docked hours earlier at berth twenty-two at Fifth Harbour with the sun beginning to rise from its slumber in greeting. There'd been very little time for any pleasantries; despite being on land, she still had a job to complete and people to settle into their new lives, a luxury she owed to Kaz. After spending most of the morning escorting the handful of people she had saved from slavers into the city with Specht preparing their documentation, Inej had simply wanted to be. She'd wanted to exist in the bubble of home and see how much it stretched to accomodate her new shape. She'd let her crew go about the city as they pleased with the expectation that they'd board The Wraith in five days' time to set sail again.
Rather than go to a waffle house and eat in Nina's stead or go to one of the food establishments she'd been dreaming of for the past week, Inej returned to the Slat. Despite missing the Dregs, she'd slipped inside and up the creaking staircase and tiptoed inside of his room knowing that he'd know where to find her.
He's the one she's desperate to see, even though Inej will never let anyone, not even the True Sea, know that's what she's desired since she wrote to him to let him know she was returning home for a few days.
When the staircase creaks beneath his familiar weight, Inej ignores the fluttering in her chest. Sitting up straighter, she doesn't look toward the door. He must know she's already here. Where else would she go, if not to one of her favourite perches in one of her favourite open-door cages?
"The crows look fat," she says, not looking up at him. She ignores the way her skin prickles and her senses hone in on him. She's missed him terribly, from his scowl to his frowns to the way he sometimes lets himself smile. "Someone's been overfeeding them."