Date: 2021-02-14 05:04 pm (UTC)
ketterdamn: (think about it)
From: [personal profile] ketterdamn
[ Her words are gentle but she isn't asking, something that he's actually a little grateful for. The touch that goes with her demand is feather light, her fingertips skimming along his jaw. There's both a coil of familiar disgust and a blooming warmth—enough to lift the most immediate dread.

Still, he can't stop himself from thinking I don't want to put you in the position again. Van Eck had dragged her through who knew what. There were things he's sure she spared him, knowing it would only add fuel to the fire. He knows it's not completely avoidable, that neither of them live a safe life. She just doesn't deserve to deal with more suffering, not after what she's been through. And if he can keep her from it, he will.

It does make him wonder how she's able to keep her head up and still remain so positive. She sounds sure that they'll get more, that they'll have happiness.

All he can think of right now is the possible noose he's tied around all their necks. ]


If we can get through this. [ He has a plan, naturally. But it's complicated. Something can always go wrong. Like all this stuff with Dunyasha. ]

Your dressing's bled through.

Date: 2021-02-15 04:30 pm (UTC)
ketterdamn: (huddle)
From: [personal profile] ketterdamn
[ In a way, it's true. He's survived the Queen Lady's plague and the aftermath, kept himself in one piece on the streets of Ketterdam, and ended up becoming one of the most feared names in the Barrel. Inej weathered her way through being stolen, serving at the Menagerie, Tante Heleen's cruelty, the Barrel, and Oomen's knife. They all have similar stories—Matthias with Hellgate, Nina and parem, Jesper and his debtors, Kuwei with the death of his father and basically the entire world looking for him. And of course, Wylan, whose own father they were up against. Who would rather see his son in a noose than to acknowledge he learns differently.

All of it feels worse. Has been worse. He just can't help that niggling voice in the back of his head, the one that sounds like his brother telling him he's dodged death too many times. This might be it.

He'll just have to make sure it isn't.

Inej looks down at her bandages and he lets himself inspect the same spots. It's a greedy thing, looking at her like this. He wants to remember every detail. ]


I can help you. [ The words are out of his mouth before he can stop himself. And for a brief moment it feels like all the air in the room has stilled. She'd said those words to him, years before, standing in her silks in the Menagerie. Those same words have been etched into his skin, stark against the pale underside of his wrist. ]

Date: 2021-02-16 10:41 pm (UTC)
ketterdamn: (lain)
From: [personal profile] ketterdamn
[ He catches the way her eyes drop to his bare hands and tries not to flex them out of a sense of self consciousness. She's seen his gloves stripped off before but this time is different. Charged from both of their pasts filling the empty space. Physical touch with Inej is both enticing and repulsive. A potent cocktail of years of want and years of remembering the bodies in the harbor.

Yet every piece of contact gives a sense of relief. Reassurance that she's here and alive.

There's a few beats of silence and while her expression doesn't change overly much, he can see the pinch of anxiousness around her eyes. Those ghosts of men invading her space without permission, rearing up in her memory.

Some of the tension breaks when she allows for it. Only some, because he feels like this is more risky than a fight in the Barrel. ]


I'll take care of them. [ I'll take care of you.

He pulls himself away from where he's leaned against the counter to step between her knees. His nerves feel like they're jangling as much as church bells, resonant and drowning out everything else. It had narrowed down to the two of them, closer than he thinks they've ever been. And it still felt like a daunting gulf—he didn't know where to start. Didn't know exactly where to look because like this, they were eye to eye, her gaze steady and warm as it always was. He felt transfixed, nervous that if he looked away, the moment would shatter. ]

Date: 2021-02-17 07:12 am (UTC)
ketterdamn: (huddle)
From: [personal profile] ketterdamn
[ At the tilt of her head, he has another set of conflicting choices. This one skimming so close to a dream, the kind where he's been brave enough to tip his chin down to kiss her. He wants it enough that it burns on the inside; a longing ache to the bone. His mouth is dry when she lifts her arms, allowing him to be closer to undo the bandage.

Carefully, he leans in, looping his arms up and around her ribs and making sure he touched her as little as possible. For both of their sakes. Light fingertips follow the line of the bandage to the knot—at this point, he's wholly in her space. If he angled his head down, he could kiss her neck. Drawing in a shaky breath, he works on undoing the tie, tugging lightly so he didn't aggravate her wound.

It finally loosens and he unravels the fabric slowly. The other end of it is pressed against her skin, close enough to the cut that he doesn't want to tug on it. If he wants to finish undoing it, he'll have to brush his fingers along her shoulder. Water felt like it was in his lungs, weighing his limbs down, paralyzing and suffocating in turn.

He could do this. She's alive, her eyes dark as a night sky, posture graceful and elegant as the acrobat she'd been born into.

Two fingers slide under the last of the bandage and he feels dizzy, nausea working its way up and fighting the brief buzz of cool relief. Dimly, he knew he was in the Geldrunner, helping Inej with her bandages. His vision blurred, though, and all he could see was the rock of Ketterdam's harbor. The unseeing eyes of those who passed in the plague. Jordie's too soft and waxen skin under his hands. ]

Date: 2021-02-20 03:47 am (UTC)
ketterdamn: (what)
From: [personal profile] ketterdamn
[ He hears his name, the sound strangely muffled under the thrum of his heartbeat in his ears. It drowns everything else out–the drip of the faucet, the soft echo of white noise in the bathroom. His breathing is too loud and sharp, a panicked hiccup that he remembers feeling when he'd found himself covered in bodies.

Then her fingers press into his side, the contact jolting him into the present. There's a cold sweat at the back of his neck and he swallows, refocusing on what she's asking of him. Stay with her. Don't let the ghosts drag him back under. It's a tall order but once he's broken from that haze, it's a little easier to stop thinking about water gathering around his shins. ]


I don't– [ He doesn't what? So many things. Doesn't think he can do this, doesn't know if he likes the contact or loathes it, doesn't know how he feels, caught in a maelstrom of conflicting emotions. The relief of the contact should be more, should override everything. It's just... the past has its hooks in him, always so eager to pull him back in.

After a moment, he doesn't give himself more time to think, pulling up the rest of her bandage and moving his hand away. ]


It's always like this.

Date: 2021-03-05 04:01 pm (UTC)
ketterdamn: (huddle)
From: [personal profile] ketterdamn
[ Really, he should be elated to hear those words. This is all he'd wanted, before they set off for the Ice Court—a need to know that she believed him. Believed in him. Here, it feels frightening. Foreign. As though the illusion of Kaz Brekker is cracking to pieces under the weight of years of silence.

That dark voice whispers in his ear. Payment for what he's done, perhaps. For leaving his brother's body in the harbor. For surviving, even if it meant cutting out others' chances for the same thing. Maybe it's what he deserves, to be so close to someone he desperately wants to touch and not being able to do it without the paralyzing panic.

She holds the bandages out, leaving the decision in his hands. Taking a slow breath, he mentally pushes through the nausea, the doubts sitting so readily on the surface. He thinks about her curled up with him on the reams of fabric, both of them fitted together like a puzzle. That's what he wants. That and more. Thinking about it takes some of the tension out of his shoulders and he lets go of the breath he'd been holding.

She's right, after all. When has anything ever stopped him from doing what he wanted? He wasn't about to stop himself. So he takes the bandages, careful about where he starts the placement. Slowly, he does a loop around her shoulder and then down, steeling himself as he leans into her space more to ring the bandage around her back. A few more of those loops and he's tied off the bandage, leaving him still leaned in close.

If he tipped his head down, he could kiss her. Kiss her neck or her cheek. His breath hitches, the pull of want strong enough to be tempting. ]

Date: 2021-03-14 03:56 pm (UTC)
ketterdamn: (leather)
From: [personal profile] ketterdamn
[ The tension between them is wound tightly, like string on a spool. She's sitting ramrod straight, her past clearly surfacing much like his. He should pull away, give her space, but he finds himself rooted in this moment. Torn between wanting and letting it alone, like he's done every time before.

Briefly, he wonders if she's come to a similar conclusion. That if she tilted her head, she could kiss his cheek. It sends a small thrill through him, to consider that they might be on the same page.

It's also fraying his nerves in a way the Ice Court failed to.

Then the moment is breaking, her gathering the courage before him to kiss his cheek. Her lips brush across the skin light enough that he doesn't feel the sickness, just the pleasant syrupy relief that's supposed to be there. Still, that doesn't prevent his pulse from sounding loud in his ears, almost to the point he doesn't catch what she says next.

A lie. Just a little one. One he completely understands in this moment because he feels like he's done the same. He doesn't want to just be friends, though he's certainly happy to be considered hers.

Under the surface, though, it seems like they've both been hiding. And in this moment, it's the small boost of daring he needs to get over the next hurdle. He closes that small gap between them again, brushing a tentative kiss to her jaw. ]


Why not both?

Date: 2021-03-17 02:51 pm (UTC)
ketterdamn: (lighting)
From: [personal profile] ketterdamn
I'd say it's warranted.

[ The Barrel demands a lot, day in and day out. On top of that, he's been trying to get them all out of the noose he feels he's put them in. It feels like payment after payment and nothing to show for it. Not yet, anyway. At the end of this, they'll either be rich enough to make the merchers annoyed or too dead to care about lost gains. In either scenario, he's going to greedily hoard these moments with Inej. But he especially doesn't want to go out with regrets.

So yes, he's greedy. Giddy, too, as she kisses his jaw, her small hands curling into his shirt. The nausea is less this time, shot through with warm elation. She leans her head against his shoulder and he puts a hand on her back, over the bandages. Just in case. The closeness is enough, here, settling his nerves. ]


I won't be walking empty handed. [ It is a gamble, a big one, but it's one that should pay off how he imagines. Even if he doesn't know how some of the Dregs will react, he knows Per Haskell well enough to understand what the old man will try to do when he shows up at his doorway.

Or rather, on his staircase. ]


I'll make it back. [ One way or another. ]

Date: 2021-03-19 01:56 pm (UTC)
ketterdamn: (Default)
From: [personal profile] ketterdamn
[ Having her weight against him like this is soothing. Again, it makes him think of them both curled up on bolts of linen, the rest of the city's sounds muted, as if the rest of the world dropped away. He wants to get back to that, dearly, without the stress of Van Eck hanging over all their heads.

In a way it feels strange, to want something so mundane. Everything he's worked for has always been for a specific purpose. Honed and sharpened over time. He can't remember the last time he wanted to do something just because he found some sort of comfort in it. There's much to do and he knows he should move. But he wants to spend a few more precious seconds like this, with only the two of them and their relative guards down.

Just like anything, the moment does pass as she sits up, silently acknowledging he has to be at the Slat soon. If he's going to pull this off, he has a small window to do it in. She does take the time to straighten his shirt and comb her fingers through his hair. The latter has him swaying ever since slightly into the touch, that same pleasant warmth tingling under his skin.

Finally, he takes the gloves when they're handed to him. Though he doesn't put them on just yet, holding them loosely in one hand. ]


They wouldn't have any idea what's coming. [ Morbid as it is to joke about. Neither of them would see her before it was too late. The thought warms him a little further. Leaves him feeling bolder. Enough to lean in to kiss her cheek. ]

Try not to miss me too much while I'm out.

Date: 2021-03-24 09:58 pm (UTC)
ketterdamn: (leather)
From: [personal profile] ketterdamn
My charming personality, of course. [ He says it wryly, too self aware of how much he grates against other people. Too many harsh lines and almost zero patience usually put people on his bad side. Or he on theirs.

That's never been the full case for either of them. They have their good days and their bad ones—the ones where they disagree and don't talk for a handful of hours. But it's always been different with her. Just like so many things, so many of his decisions. In some way, he'd known they were connected, ever since that moment in the parlor.

It's just taken...a few years to coming around to facing it head on.

Carefully, he catches one of her fussing hands with his, the contact a warm jolt of pleasantness. ]


I won't get creative with your path. [ He trusts her too much, especially in the moment. Her knowledge of Ketterdam's layout was unrivaled.

With clear regret, he lets her hand go, moving to pull on his gloves and pick up his cane. It was time to collect what he was owed. ]

Date: 2021-04-25 08:31 pm (UTC)
ketterdamn: (leather)
From: [personal profile] ketterdamn
[ The words have been kicking around in his head for a couple days. Or perhaps, a couple years. He can't bring himself to hate Per Haskell, not after the old man gave him that first chance. Kaz has more than paid him back, considering how full he kept the Dregs' coffers, but there will always be that memory of Haskell saying he thought this scrawny kid could amount to something.

Still, there are some choice words he'd like to say to him, to all of them. They've always been carefully tucked behind his teeth, knowing the time would come when he'd get to say his piece.

And this is it.

He reviews it all as he picks his way over the rooftops, remembering Inej's warnings about the slippery footing on a few of the spots. Part of him wonders if he should turn back and ask her to come. It would make this whole plan easier knowing her knives were there, that she was watching his back.

But he knows what that would look like to the Dregs, to Per Haskell: weakness. And if he needed them to buy into what he was going to say, they needed to see him as he was on his own.

Swinging himself into his bedroom window, he stops to change, splashing some water on his face and making sure not a hair was out of place. Maybe it was nonsensical, considering what he was anticipating, but he'd learned presentation mattered. Once cleaned up, he steps out of his room and towards the staircase, listening intently to the sounds of the raucous downstairs. Above the noise, he can make out Haskell's particular crowing, laughter and cheers following in its wake. ]


Old man. [ And that's how it all starts, Haskell giving him exactly what he needed: an audience. He knew the old man couldn't resist, always wanting to humble Kaz or strip away some of his prideful attitude. So he let him have what he wanted and turned it into something else. A demonstration. A proving. A hard truth.

When he's done, he's gotten what he's come for: the Dregs under new leadership. He's also gotten what he expected, which is a fairly thorough beating. He'd known he could fight through what was thrown at him and now he's dealing with the consequences of the decision. Everything hurt in various ways, especially his leg, which felt like it was on fire. After he gets more settled with Anika and Pim and Roeder, he makes his way back up the stairs, knowing who he's likely to meet on the way.

She shows up on the third story landing, probably having come in from her room, a small but strong arm sliding around his waist. Part of him wants to shrug it off, just in case anyone is watching, but he knows they aren't. Too much cleanup and no one is brazen enough to bother with him after such a showing. So he lets her help him into his room, leaning against the desk with a low hiss once the door is closed behind them. ]


Shouldn't have expected you'd stay clear of this.

Date: 2021-04-26 01:48 pm (UTC)
ketterdamn: (thinking)
From: [personal profile] ketterdamn
[ Of course, she always found a loophole. Or maybe he always subconsciously left one. Or maybe it was a little of both. They're so used to covering each other's backs that it comes as easy as breathing. Though he isn't entirely sure how he feels about her having seen all of that. It's not like she hasn't seen plenty of violence in the Barrel–it's the one thing that's a constant here–but it can't have been easy. There'd been that brief moment where he caught her eye up in the rafters, the glint of her knife in the dull light enough to tell him what she had wanted to do.

He's pulled from the spinning thoughts when she comes back over, her fingertips light as a feather where she brushes his hair back. As she goes on her toes, he inhales, braced for the horrible pull of water. It doesn't come, not exactly, anyway, remaining a niggling feeling that is washed out by the relief of the brief touch. There's a temptation to reach out and cup the side of her face but by the time he makes a decision, the moment's passed. ]


I don't plan on having to do this all over again. [ A special case. If it had been any other circumstance, he would've been glad to have the surety that either she or Jesper were nearby in case things went straight to hell.

It's a testament to how much he aches that he doesn't argue when she suggests he sit down. Setting his cane aside, he lowers himself into his desk chair with a low groan, the bruising on his ribs making itself known. ]


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