fₒᵣ ᵢ ₐₘ bₑcₒₘₑ dₑₐₜₕ, dₑₛₜᵣₒyₑᵣ ₒf wₒᵣₗdₛ
Anastasia Morozova is a kinslayer. Anya Varamyr is a murderer. Anastasia is a decorated soldier. Anya is a backstreet cutthroat. Anastasia would die for her country. Anya would die for her friends.
Anastasi...
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♥✎ ✲❁✰❄✫✾✹✾✷❂✷✬✶❄✲ 🐙ൠ
Anya had one of her hands tucked into a pocket of her teal duster, gloved and twitching. Black Veil probably wouldn't have been her first choice as a hideout given that it was literally an abandoned cemetery - an atmosphere that hit a little too close to home for a dead girl walking.
Head leaning back against the long since departed Greta Marlson's tombstone, she focused her attentions on sharpening the edge of her cutlass against the hard stone below with her free hand - hopefully Greta wouldn't mind all too much. She needed a sharp blade and a sharp mind if they were going to get Inej back. Their return to Ketterdam was still a blur in her mind - she was still recovering from the events of the Treasury, after all. All she'd managed to process was that Van Eck had swindled them, Inej was rotting in a cell somewhere, the city was searching for them, and Wylan wasn't Wylan.
She eyed the two identical boys suspiciously; she'd barely spoken to Kuwei Yul Bo despite her ability to speak Shu. Occasionally though, she'd find herself ready to tease the previously ginger boy only to take a step back when he looked back at her with the eyes of a stranger.
Her blade ground against the edge of the stone once more, ignoring the multiple irritated expressions sent her way. Every scrape of her blade was a step towards slitting Van Eck's slimy neck; one step closer to getting Inej back home. "Can you please stop that," Jesper complained, much quieter than usual. From what Anya had gathered, it had been Jesper's careless blunder that had cost them so much, and though she doubted the majority of their group blamed him for anything, he hadn't quite been the same since. He'd lost Kaz's favour, and his pride along with it.
"Sorry," she muttered, wincing at the sound of her own voice. It was worse than it had been last time; she sounded ruined, almost preferring the sound of the blade against the stone. Her mouth twisted in displeasure; Anya had never been all too vain, but by the saints she sounded horrible.
"So let me get this straight," Nina said, face missing that usual rosy gleam Nina pulled off so beautifully. "Your grand scheme is to give Jesper a line of credit and make him play cards with Cornelis Smeet?"
"Smeet likes high-stakes Three Man Bramble and blondes," said Kaz. "So we're going to give him both. I'll deal him the first half of the night, then Specht will take over."
"So what - we're sending in Matthias in a pretty frock?" Anya laughed, voice catching on the ruins of darkness left behind in her throat. Matthias turned to glare at her, only getting a gleeful wave in return. "And not rain on your parade, but who's to say Jesper will win?"
