mcgnificat

[mcgnificat]

hey, loves!! I am going to be moving ellie back to a small multi, as I simply cannot keep up with as many blogs as I have. please find us over on @pathlit !!

[mcgnificat]

❛ and what is it, this small, trifling request of yours? mind, I’m not agreeing. but I might as well know what I am not agreeing to. ❜ and maybe, maybe, if it is truly a trifling request, elia might — might — concede.

if it costs her nothing.

because otherwise, she has merely to wait until this little quest of theirs is over, until he abides by his earlier promise to return her to shore, and spirit the cat away with her. well, for that matter, she need only place him upon her shoulder as he now sits, and who upon the crew would dare approach to retrieve him? even sturmhond himself keeps his distance.

this little plan, she keeps to herself.

// @lessontwo.

❛⠀⠀ ⠀ of course i do! it is very simple — this is my ship, and whatever i say is fair, is automatically fair. it is a little thing called maritime law: the captain makes the rules. and this particular captain also dabbles in semantics and the like.⠀⠀ ⠀ ❜⠀⠀ ⠀ impossible means improbable, danger means your next destination and ship is a construction which can roam both the ocean and the sky.

ravka’s university did not approve of his butchering of their ancient, traditional language, but that is because next to tradition he scribbled ‘something to be destroyed and rebuilt’.

❛⠀⠀ ⠀ you are helping me. that is an active, ongoing thing. this little request of mine, for you to keep this charming creature of yours,⠀⠀ ⠀ ❜⠀⠀ ⠀ he does not comment on her wince, she is the one who choose adopting a monster as a pet.⠀⠀ ⠀ ❛⠀⠀ ⠀ is a small, trifling request.⠀⠀ ⠀ ❜

[mcgnificat]

ellie is inclined to abide by christine’s request to be attributed to a specific monster, but she cannot for the life of her remember if there is a particular creature who represents the lurk under the bed, deprive you of sleep sort of monster. and that’s too much of an inelegant, unspecific mouthful to voice. when she has not been able to ascertain an answer by the time she presents herself before her friend, she surrenders the attempt.

❛ then your dearest zombie requests that we go before she falls asleep on her feet. she also requests that we find an appropriately caffeinated beverage as soon as humanely possible so she can can be human instead of being a zombie. zombie life isn’t all it’s chocked up to be. ❜

god, is she even making sense anymore? ellie’s not sure, but she’d comfortably bet the answer is no.

there is no need to duck. the pillow misses her completely, landing on the floor with a dull thud before being scooped up by christine who hugs it to her chest, making herself comfortable as she waits for ellie to get ready.

❛⠀⠀⠀sorry, i don't accept general insults. come back to me when you can assign me a monster-sona.⠀ ⠀ ❜⠀ ⠀ christine calls out, falling back on the bed, thinking it actually wasn't a bad idea to steal a minute or two more of sleep before their grand-day.

the pillow blocks her vision when she inches her head out of bed. she can ascertain that ellie's hair isn't a rats nest. progress. the pillow slips to her lap as she props herself up on her elbows to get a proper view, just in time to catch the face-splitting yawn wreck ellie's pretty face.

❛⠀⠀⠀yes,⠀ ⠀ ❜⠀ ⠀ she says finally, with a small, regal nod that despite its delicate of movement, finds a way to have a dramatic flair.⠀ ⠀❛⠀⠀⠀my dearest zombie. you look great.⠀ ⠀ ❜

[mcgnificat]

❛ you, sit pretty on a lacquered throne? ❜ incredulity reigns, in her tone, the twist of her lip, the lift of her eyebrows. ❛ I don’t believe for a moment that you’d sit still. you’d explore it all, know it all. delegate someone else to handle the day to day administration, and set about traveling and inventing preposterous solutions for whatever problems you come across. ❜

preposterous, yet somehow probably still successful. somehow, the universe seems inclined to permit him to defy all its laws, uncontested. stolen luck, indeed.

❛ and, because you have conquered the world, who is there to tell you no, no matter how preposterous those solutions may be? no one would dare. but they also wouldn't, for even a moment, believe you. ❜

who could possibly believe him, should he attempt to pin the blame upon her. she is, after all, merely a harpist — nothing more. in her hands does not lie the power to shift the edges of the map, nor to inspire any to such actions.

his future, the adventures that lie ahead, is murky. privateer, prince, those titles can’t go exist peacefully, not in ravka, not as long as he has a thousand responsibilities waiting for him at shore. world domination might be within his reach, but he isn't sure he would like to be responsible for all the petty problems in this planet; just one glorious piece of land is enough for him.

❛⠀⠀ ⠀and what will i do with all that conquered land? play king, emperor? the problem with world domination is that you have to play administrator for the rest of your life. i would die of boredom, sitting pretty on a lacquered throne and reading about, oh, what do they even read about? crop rotations?⠀⠀ ⠀ ❜

he says the words as if they were poison, eyes wide with fear of this imaginary paperwork. in truth, prince nikolai could not get enough of it, reading everything he could get his hands on. a kingdom cannot feed itself on gold and glory.

the sight of her smile softens his features. nikolai is sill smirking, but it is filled with something new, something more amused than arrogant, roguish even.

❛⠀⠀ ⠀i’ll keep your idea in mind. if i ever get bored and conquer all the lands in this sorry miserable world, i’ll remember to thank you in my speech so everyone knows who to blame.⠀⠀ ⠀ ❜

[mcgnificat]

trouble of making something up. the worst piece of all of this, elia considers, is that she actually had taken his story at face value, implausible but not improbably for an infamous privateer. her criticism of his storytelling was not incredulity at the story itself. she tries, and fails, not to sound indignant as she demands, ❛ so you admit this this whole thing is merely a tale? ❜

her own fault, for believing. as if she should not have known better, as if she should believe a single word that comes from the lips of a man who not only has kidnapped her ( and refused to accept the designation ) but also refused to tell her why. elia is always too eager to believe the implausible. ❛ then I assume I may take whatever creative liberties I see fit? ❜

she will find some way to spin the story less than favorably for him, a just revenge, for all he has committed no actual crime.

// @lessontwo.

instead of being offended, nikolai is enraptured at her brazen attempt to hijack his story and criticize him in the same breath. not a lot of people treat him like this — like a person — the only few who would dare to raise their voices at him in disagreement are standing on this ship, his crew mates; even those who know that the privateer outfit is hiding something far more strange, dare and delight to correct him.

don’t get him wrong. he is a little bit miffed. he is an excellent storyteller, silver-tongued and talented at spinning words to create magic. and him? frustrated? that’s improbable. her character-building requires some work as well.

leaning against the railing, he crosses his arms over his chest, blonde fringe falling over his eyes as he tilts his head to the side expectantly.

❛⠀⠀ ⠀i’m a visual and auditory learner. give it another shot, tell the story as if you were me, and try to guess the ending. saves me the trouble of making something up.⠀⠀ ⠀ ❜

[mcgnificat]

she doesn’t entirely believe it, knows better than to let his charm overwhelm all she knows of a contrary temperament and of obligations he holds to ship and crew. still, she positively beams. ( he does not say it to mislead, to pretend to something that is not; of this she is certain ).

his would-be defense of his crew earns him a look that is somewhere between feigned alarm and surprise, though she merely teases. ❛ aren't they? you don't mean that the fearsome sturmhond has a crew that is anything less than dangerous and cut-throat… careful, you’ll ruin your reputation — and theirs. ❜ or he would, if only anyone would believe him!

// @lessontwo.

❛���⠀i would never deny you. ⠀ ⠀ ❜ ⠀ ⠀he says, laying it with enough thick charm that it is impossible to discern that inside his heart, that is a statement of fact. devastating in its simplicity, he can't bring himself to say the words as they exist, afraid of their power, of her power over him.

as a prince, he can only have one love, ravka, and the seas already claimed their position as his mistress, when he dons his privateer garb. there shouldn’t be any space in his heart for her to worm her way into. and yet she is there all the same, with her twinkling eyes and spirited laugh, unbeknownst to him, she slipped past his defenses and claimed the land.

pesky girl.

❛⠀⠀whatever am i gonna do with you? ⠀ ⠀ ❜ ⠀ ⠀ slipping past his defenses, trying to distract him to steal his new favorite hat. one hand rises to rest over hers, keeping her locked there, keeping her near. ⠀ ⠀ ❛⠀⠀are you accusing my crew of being dangerous cut-throats? ⠀ ⠀ ❜

[mcgnificat]

❛ you tell a sob story about how your friend used to bully you into telling her everything when you were upset and refused to let up until you gave in, and how it was utterly unfair. ❜ there, problem solved. easy as pie. ❛ and, no. mysteries are supposed to be solved. that’s the whole point. would you read a mystery book if you never got the answers? ❜

they are both scientists, in their own way, through ellie’s own realm is that of society and not of biology. by nature, they are both always looking for answers: christine for the answers in their genetic codes, ellie for answers in the music they create.

she raises her eyebrows and tips her head in a pointed look, a silent reiteration of her earlier words: spill it.

christine tries in vain to come up with a dry retort. something funny, snappy, the perfect combination of words which will make ellie smile and forget she was ever suspicious about what was lurking behind her own sunny facade. only, no matter which joke she tries, everything that comes to mind sounds like a confession.

people share those things because they are good. no one, least of all her, wants to share problems. why spread misery when she can keep it safely contained within her?

❛⠀⠀⠀can't a girl retain a little mystery?⠀ ⠀ ❜⠀ ⠀ she says, finally, dancing away from ellie's bony fingers,⠀ ⠀ ❛⠀⠀⠀'sides, how else am i supposed to tell a sob story one day if you solve all my problems?⠀ ⠀ ❜⠀

[mcgnificat]

where to find katya:

@owedfavors :: commander una evers number one ( primary ) @cptnbatel :: captain marie batel ( medium activity ) @mcgnificat :: eliana mitchell ( oc ; low activity ) @wclksinbeauty :: nyota uhura ( snw / tos ; very low activity ) @endsjustify :: captain gabriel lorca ( ??? activity )

[mcgnificat]

quotes that broke me starters

feel free to adjust pronouns / names as needed !

quotes taken from random sources or tiktok. i claim no ownership whatsoever.

❛   i’m supposed to be the one who protects you from monsters. i’m not supposed to be one.  ❜  

❛   if i could make a deal with god, and i’d get him to swap our places.  ❜  

❛  no one heard our screams for a long time.  ❜  

❛   i know so many last words. but i’ll never know hers.  ❜  

❛   there is a home for every departed thing.  ❜  

❛   it reminded me that i will never truly know you.  ❜  

❛   i also buried a part of myself alongside them.  ❜  

❛   after you died i could no longer hold a funeral. so my life became the funeral.  ❜  

❛   you don’t have to be awake to cry.  ❜  

❛   forgive me, for all the things i did. but mostly the things i didn’t do.  ❜  

❛   the human eye is the loneliest creation of all.  ❜  

❛   fairness is for happy people.  ❜  

❛   the things we lost will always be heavier than the things that stayed.  ❜  

❛   perhaps it is the greater grief, to remain on the earth when another is gone.  ❜  

❛   you stain the pages with yourself.  ❜  

❛   tears will not wash away the sorrow.  ❜  

❛   beautiful things grow a certain height and then they fall and fade off.  ❜  

❛    who in all these centuries has had the common humanity to pray for the one sinner that needed it most?  ❜  

❛   i have scars on my hands from touching certain people  ❜  

❛   despite everything, i believe that people are really good at heart.  ❜  

❛   you tried to change, didn’t you?  ❜

❛   you can’t make homes out of people. someone should have taught you that.  ❜  

❛   i hid my deepest feelings so well, i forgot where i placed them.  ❜  

❛   we have no scar to show for happiness. we learn so little from peace.  ❜  

❛   i didn’t leave because i stopped loving you. i left because the longer i stayed, the less i loved myself.  ❜  

❛   at every moment in our life, we have one foot in a fairytale & the other in the abyss.  ❜  

❛   there are too many sad eyes on happy faces.  ❜  

❛   it’s strange, i felt less lonely when i didn’t know you.  ❜  

❛   things change, friends leave. life doesn’t stop for anybody.  ❜  

❛   it takes a lifetime to die, and no time at all.  ❜  

❛   i am deathly afraid of almosts. of coming close to what i want and then falling just a little short.  ❜  

❛   i felt your absence.  ❜  

❛   what do we do now, now that we are happy?  ❜  

❛    you honestly thought anybody would love you? purely and truly love you?  ❜  

❛   don’t stop looking. he deserves to know someone saw his end, that someone noticed him.  ❜  

❛    i can bear my pain so long as it has meaning.  ❜  

❛   i dont have a single friend - not one.  ❜  

❛   i’ve had more than enough pain in my life, what’s a little more going to do?  ❜  

❛    it would have been you if i met you first.  ❜  

❛    i really thought he was going to be my forever.  ❜  

❛    maybe in the next life it would work.  ❜  

❛   in spite of everything, you’re still you.  ❜  

❛   the dead have it easy.  ❜  

❛   there’s an ocean of silence between us, and I’m drowning.    ❜  

❛   there have been countless times in my life when i thought i’d be better off dead.  ❜  

❛   what on earth… have i become?  ❜  

❛   don’t look at me! i don’t … i don’t want you seeing me like this.  ❜  

❛   i wish i could’ve been like you.  ❜  

❛   your fate was sweeping you away, like a flood.  ❜  

❛   the future should know the mistakes we made.  ❜  

❛   of course you have. you feel guilt. you want redemption.  ❜  

❛   i’m here because you can’t accept what you’ve done. it broke you.  ❜  

❛   even now, after all you’ve done, you can still go home.  lucky you . ❜  

❛   you’re all that’s left, and we can’t live this lie forever.  ❜  

❛    prometheus gave us light, and warmth, and eternal damnation.  ❜  

❛   take a gamble that love exists, and do a loving act.  ❜  

❛    i know i ruined your life. i suffer for it every day.  ❜  

❛   don’t let yourself get killed for… for pride. i’ve seen it kill too many folk.  ❜  

❛    you and me, we ain’t decent… but those folk… they were.  ❜  

❛   we’re more ghosts than people.  ❜  

❛   despite my best efforts to the contrary… it turns out i’ve won.  ❜  

❛   i gave you all i had … i did.  ❜  

❛   this whole time, I’ve blamed myself for that decision.  ❜  

❛   do you think even the worst person can change…? That everybody can be a good person, if they just try? ❜  

❛   i don’t want to break their hearts all over again. it’s better if they never see me.  ❜  

❛   please leave me alone. i can’t come back. i just … can’t, okay?  ❜  

❛   no matter the struggles or hardships you faced… you strived to do the right thing, you refused to hurt anyone. ❜  

❛    people like you don’t ever want to be happy.  ❜  

❛   i don’t want to let go. i’m not ready to say goodbye yet.  ❜  

[mcgnificat]

ellie sits up, giving up the ghost of a few minutes more of sleep. she does, however, throw her pillow in christine's general direction, her aim no more precise than when she's fully awake and less bleary-eyed. pity. ❛ you're a monster. ❜ even grumpy with sleep, she fails to sound convincing, to believe her own accusation. ❛ a heinous monster. ❜

and one of ellie's best friends. unfortunately. fortunately.

ellie operates half on autopilot as she pulls clothes from hangers and shelves in the closet — a bright outfit, and not merely because she pays less attention to whether it matches than she perhaps ought. ( ellie's always been able to pull off unique color choices, though. ) hair combed, the briefest ghost of make-up applied, and she rummages in her bag ( which she had, miraculously, thought to pack the night before ) as if to ascertain that she hasn't forgotten anything. not that she can think clearly enough to recognize if anything is missing.

with half a shrug, she slings it across her shoulder and with dramatic flare presents herself before her friend. ❛ do I have the christine stamp of approval? ❜

it might, ellie thinks wryly to herself, be more impressive if her body didn't choose precisely that moment to yawn in protest at the early hour, and if her eyes were less puffy with the lingering shadow of sleep.

❛⠀⠀⠀someone boring who shore stays instead of shore leaves.⠀ ⠀ ❜⠀ ⠀ protests fall on deaf ears. once they are out of this ship and taking in the beautiful vistas, actual sunlight warming their skins, ellie is going to thank her for getting her out of bed before the morning rush turns the transporter room into a war zone.

until then, she is okay guiding a bleary-eyed zombie through the ship.

but she is expecting that her thank you be profuse and heartfelt. hopefully accompanied by a box of chocolates or a rendition of her favorite song, definitely one of ellie’s best smiles. if she is guaranteed all of that, she is okay operating in less than optimal conditions for a while.

with a sigh that is meant to be heard, christine stands up and moves to the bottom of the bed, clutching the blanket, and the sheet for good measure, and gives them both a good hard tug.

❛⠀⠀⠀okay, we can play tug of war, or you can play nice and get outta bed now. your choice.⠀ ⠀ ❜⠀

[mcgnificat]

❛ people are always so possessive of their problems. they'll share food, clothes... but when it comes to problems? nope, those are mine. ❜ ellie's not quite sure where she's going with this, besides perhaps the conclusion that they're taught to share as children, the grandest of virtues. so, why not share one's problems, too? ❛ everyone's full of funny little problems, but things are half as heavy if you've got two people to lift it. ❜

she pokes christine in the shoulder pointedly, though the levity of the gesture is far too at odds with her friend's clear distress. ❛ so, spill. 'cause I'm not budging otherwise. my time's wasted either way. ❜

and it's not a waste, it's never a waste. how could it be? what could possibly in all the universe be more worth her time than her friend?

@mcgnificat asked: i bring problems on myself. sometimes they're worth it.

ellie’s words peak through the fog, sneaking in between the shadows of her mind, boldly stepping through the forest of guilt she’s built around herself to find an opening, making her listen to something other than her own tempestuous thoughts for the first time in almost a day.

carefully built walls are no match for the tiny musician.

⠀❛⠀⠀⠀these are my problems,⠀ ⠀ ❜⠀ ⠀ christine points out, eyes lifting for a second from her hands to catch ellie's gaze, still not fully giving up her pretense, before returning to where they twist and turn, knuckles red from the scritch-scratch of her nails.⠀ ⠀ ⠀❛⠀⠀⠀and believe me, they aren't worth it. i'm full of funny little problems, nothing worth your time.⠀ ⠀ ❜

jack, pt. 1.

[mcgnificat]

he will have to tell her at least once more, and then another, and another. sooner or later one of them will tire of it, but elia has resolved that it will not be her. all he need do is to stop correcting her, and, the fun stripped from her little joke, she will cease. so, truly, it is by his own choice that he must repeatedly insist upon the distinction.

and elia does not for a moment believe that he does not know it.

but though her fingers should perhaps not be trusted with anything but her music, to suggest as much would be to admit her error, and to him she cannot. when his crew demands to know what she was thinking, she may humbly apologize and confess that she herself does not know. but to him, instead, she laughs.

❛ you'll deny anything and anyone, when it suits you. ❜ and therein lies the whole problem, for it doesn't suit him to relinquish the damn hat. he may act chivalrous all he wishes, but she knows better.

not even the open-ended, oh-so-dangerous promise of something better had tempted him from the hat, yet still she changes tactics once more. placing her hands upon his chest, she pretends to consider the hat. ❛ while you and I appreciate it properly, I think your crew is going to hate me for it. I'd rather they not decide I'm their enemy and take a page out of your book when it comes to stabbing enemies in the back the next time I'm on the ship. ❜

she plays the part of innocent worry well enough, yet laughter bubbles ever beneath the surface, and she focus on the texture of the fabric beneath her fingers to avoid meeting his gaze and shattering her composure.

the change in his expression is immediate. sun-touched smile, indiscriminate in its golden beam, curls into a familiar smirking curve. she knows exactly what she is doing, they’ve had this exact conversation a half-dozen times, and her pretty little ears heard him correct strangers and enemies alike. ⠀⠀ ⠀❛⠀⠀privateer, it is a very important discussion. how many times do i have to tell you that?⠀⠀ ⠀ ❜⠀⠀ ⠀nikolai complains with a slight whine, hand over heart.

❛⠀since i was a small child! my parents taught me to bow properly, compliment pretty ladies and stab my friends in the back when they least expect it.⠀⠀ ⠀ ❜⠀⠀ ⠀there is a short beat before he adds, ⠀⠀ ⠀❛⠀⠀i changed it to enemies.⠀⠀ ⠀ ❜⠀⠀ ⠀ his ridiculous little speech has the unexpected benefit of being the truth. he can preen and smile without worrying if he is going to step over a lie.

a perfect bow accompanies his compliment. decision made. he is keeping his hat, and her, for as long as he can.⠀⠀ ⠀ ❛⠀⠀your clever fingers thought it best to give me this hat. who am i to deny their vision?⠀⠀ ⠀ ❜

[mcgnificat]

stardust the isopod!! 🌌⭐️🪲

gift for @nekochan700 and pattern by TumAnnArt!

[mcgnificat]

ellie is less of a morning person and more of a forget what time it is and if she's lucky make it into bed before the sun emerges to chide her sort of person. in her defense, music seems to occupy the late evening hours for so many cultures, a way to unwind after a long day's work. in space, time only gets more amorphous, to say nothing of the fact that it is never the same time on a ship as it is where she is going to, or coming from.

despite ellie's knowledge of her friend's plans for a bright and early departure ( though, ellie had been imagining something closer to a reasonable hour. say, seven-thirty ), last night had been one of those nights, as the collection of mugs and data padds scattered across her small table and escaping across the floor can attest. ellie isn't sure she's even been in bed for an hour.

❛ who in their right mind schedules shore leave starting at five am? no one in their right mind should be awake at five am. ❜ she is more bleary than grumpy, and even that will soon wear off. for now, however, she reaches for the edge of her blanket to pull it over her head as a shield against the full illumination of her room's lighting. ❛ five more minutes — no, make that ten. ❜

@mcgnificat asked: You're kidding me. It's five thirty in the morning.

perched on the edge of ellie’s bed, as obnoxiously bright and warm as the afternoon sun, christine doesn’t make the best alarm clock. she doesn’t try waking up ellie by slowly turning on the lights, mimicking the pattern of the rising sun, making the room warmer incrementally until her body feels ready to get on with the day. she could, she recommends her patients to program the environmental controls of their rooms to mimic their planet’s day. it is the best way to wake up.

it is not, however, the quickest way to wake up. and this morning (what others might still consider night) christine is going for speed, not gentleness. the room’s lights turned up the maximum, and her voice resembles a more general’s command than a hummingbird’s chirp.

❛     yeah. it’s five thirty in the morning. we’re already late. shore leave started 5 am, and i let you sleep in for thirty minutes. get dressed. chop chop. time is a-wasting.     ❜     she says tugging the blankets away from ellie.

the west wing, pilot, sentence starter meme.

[mcgnificat]

elia can scarcely afford to show disinterest in his tale, and yet she finds herself squinting at him, all too doubtful and all too judgmental.

she will believe the most preposterous of tales and yet challenge the logic of another in the next breath. perhaps it is the most incredible of stories that she will accept without hesitation, while the closer one verges toward reality, the greater her expectations of credibility.

or, perhaps the difference lies in the storytelling — legends have a pacing to them, an age-old pull, a rhythm that makes them nearly impossible to ruin.

❛ you don't know how to tell a story, do you know that? you ought to have started there: the amateur collector offered something unique yet incomplete. the frustrating years while you held onto it, searching. the fortuitous request from your friend, who, though oblivious to its importance, offers you the map in the fjerdan's possession in exchange for your assistance. the heist itself, the danger, the success. the later revelation that the map was your missing piece... ❜

she has taken great liberties with his story, yet she could not be less repentant for it. it has a story's logic, finally.

ever observant, nikolai doesn't miss her lack of a reply, filing this new sliver of information at the back of his head. it wasn't a blanket no, or a story, reading too much into her silence was a fool's trick, she was too clever to be silent simply because he was right. it is something, though. another piece of the puzzle of his dear harpist.

❛⠀⠀ ⠀ not my friend. me. i fancy myself a bit of an amateur collector. i always had an eye for the best in life. i ran into an old man a few years back, spouting the same impossible tale and he said he had something no one else had and he was willing to sell it to me. oh, i didn’t believe him. such a flatterer, saying he’d only sell it to me — you can’t believe a man who smiles while holding a dagger at his back. it’s bad for business, you know?⠀⠀ ⠀ ❜⠀⠀ ⠀ the story was only half the truth. the man existed. he had the right coordinates. he had a dagger. ⠀⠀ ⠀ ❛⠀⠀ ⠀ i decided to take a risk. go with my gut. if it was fake, well, i’d sell it to the next fool for a fortune. if it wasn’t, i’d get my fortune.⠀⠀ ⠀ ❜

and he did. it was very well invested in his ship-yard; though, if anyone asked, he lost it all playing a game of chance in shu han.

❛⠀⠀ ⠀what's the use of any map? to guide.⠀⠀ ⠀ ❜

[mcgnificat]

she musters all the earnestness she can, just enough to get out the question ❛ aren't you? ❜ before her smile makes its way back into her eyes, for all she keeps it, for now, from tugging at the corner of her lips.

elia had not been insinuating anything, truly; she had not thought fully through what the eventually she described would look like. yet, his interpretation will suffice.

❛ I mean, what greater impossible battle is there? I wouldn't think you'd be satisfied with anything less. what else will you do when you run out of legends and treasure troves to chase? you'd be bored without some ridiculous project to use your stolen luck on. ❜

her efforts to keep a straight face shatter upon the words stolen luck, upon the adjective he has already rejected and yet which she refuses to relinquish ( merely for the sake of having it to bicker over, as they have so many other words in past weeks ), and her smile regains its usual pride of place upon her features.

❛⠀⠀ ⠀why, yes. my definition of fair includes exclusively what is fair to me. the rest of the world can create their own luck.⠀⠀ ⠀ ❜⠀⠀ ⠀ nowhere in his job description — be it privateer, prince, inventor or charming rogue — was there an obligation to share the luck he so obstinately created.

besides, in the long term, for the world, it was a better long-term investment to concentrate the luck in his capable hands. when he wasted it on frivolous things, it was with a plan, already thinking five steps ahead. when they did, it was with cards. or worse, love.

is there a worst waste? love is not luck, it relies on something far bigger than mere chance.

hard-work, charm and trading secret words with a brown-haired girl under the stars. that is love. trading in all your chips in order to stay with them for one more night because you can't imagine saying goodbye, that is what exists inside his heart when he is near her. if he was relying on luck to get one of her smiles, they'd still be bickering about his use of the word guest ( not that they don't do it now, but where before there was a challenge, now the words are wrapped in warm familiarity, a soft teasing that softened his eyes and mouth into a boyish grin that he completely skipped over in his teenage years. )

❛⠀⠀ ⠀miss elia, are you insinuating i'm going to conquer the world?⠀⠀ ⠀ ❜⠀

[mcgnificat]

she crosses her arms, though the movement jostles boris upon her shoulders. he digs claws briefly into her shoulder to maintain his balance, but her features show only the slightest wince. this time, she does not reach up to reassure the cat.

she has other matters to attend to, after all. ❛ I am already complying with a big request of yours, and that isn't enough to justify parting with the cat you said a few minutes ago you aren't even sure is a cat? ❜ he all but goes back on his word already. previously, it had been I can't stop you and who am I to stand in your way, and now it is comply with a small request, as if she hasn't agreed to cooperate with his harebrained plan.

never mind that his harebrained plan appealed, that she could scarcely resist the lure of legend. she had not been hard to convince, a fact he will clearly make her regret.

❛ I'm not sure you know the meaning of the word 'fair.' though I suppose that comes with the job. ❜

now, that he can work with. if there is one thing that nikolai doesn't like, is people disagreeing with him. oh, he appreciates a good debate like any other academically minded person in existence, there is nothing quite as fun as ripping apart an old theorem until the underlying logic is gone and the field of study is wide open-again.

it is quite another when people disagree with him on a stupid thing like whether he kidnapped them or not. in the grand scheme of things, the word elia used to describe her situation here was a mere trifle, surely nothing he should lose time worrying about. but he did. it bothered him. kidnapping. it was the start of a good story, just not the one they found themselves in. it left a dirty taste in his mouth, and if gifting her a demon allows him to outlaw the use of the word... well, it's a win-win scenario, his favorite.

finally, that is what he was looking for.

❛⠀⠀ ⠀ how about an even trade? you comply with a small request of mine, and i'll gladly give you my cat?⠀⠀ ⠀ ❜⠀