Tumgik
#i need an astonishing nikolai so bad
diejager · 1 year
Text
Tumblr media
Chapter 4
Cw: blood, death, canon typical violence, guns, tell me if I missed any. Wc: 3.6k
Series masterlist
Tumblr media
Previous
Finland was a beautiful country, with a wide expanse of snowy plains and forest that covered the frozen earth. Green pines were tipped in gleaming snow, shiny and holy in a way that brought out awe and astonishment instead of anxiety from the mission. For a pretty country, the land was bathed in blood, old and new, both Finnish and Russian. 
Standing on the border of Finland and Russia was a compound, one built by shady funds and shadier reasons that the CIA decided to send Task Force 141 to shut down. The images from drones showed that it tainted the snow black and grey, a mark on the land people wanted gone. It was your target. 
Price gathered you around the table for the mission's debriefing, standing at the head of it, he had pictures displayed on the table, and physical notes about the mission and Laswell dealt with the extra explanations, sliding files to the screen. A Russian compound from what Laswell's intel told you, hidden under the thick, forested area of the border with a skeleton crew of around twenty ultranationalists.
The CIA had mentioned that their initial assumptions of the ongoings were human trafficking or an information hub for terrorists and prisoners. Whether it was the first or the second, the secretive compound had to be detained.
"Our main objective is to gather information about the things happening behind those walls. It's an infiltration and intel gathering. We leave in 15.
With the dismissal, you all filed out of the room, boots sounding loudly as you made your way to your barrack and then armoury for the mission. Everyone would need to be ready, you'd have no air support or cover, and you'd all be on field.
Nikolai warned you about turbulence, the harsh wind of the Nordic countries was stronger than the British weather, but the ride was calming, interacting with your teammates on the three-hour flight. Jokes were passed around by Gaz and Soap, they were by far the goofiest of the bunch, though with a bit of insistence, Ghost shared a few of his dark humour. 
Humour wasn't something you'd relate Ghost to, the brooding mass of a man seemed so cold and distant to you, yet he cared about the team, and now you too. Price, however, had the worst dad jokes one could think of. Although his jokes were bad and as dark as Ghost's, you couldn't contain your cackle when you saw the disgusted expression on the three, younger men before you. 
"Approaching the landing site," Nikolai called out, his voice ringing out from the headset.
The carrier shook violently, and your stomach dropped along the plane, lowering to the cleared, paved ground near a village. It was a rocky landing, the landing wheels jerking upwards a few times before it stopped moving. You followed out behind Price and Roach once you were cleared by Nikolai, hearing the blades shutter and halt as your eyes adjusted to the white land. 
You were warned about snow blindness, staring at the beautiful sight through dark glasses, it made everything sombre, but you wouldn't risk it. By habit, your eyes scanned the area, watching for things that could bring to your team. When everything seemed fine, you faced the blurred figure that moved to your side. 
"First time 'ere?" Ghost asked, his voice gravelly from not using it much apart from the few jokes he told, they could be counted with both hands. 
"No, I've been here once, just nowhere this calm," you replied, watching Nik's back. 
He walked with long strides, casual and comfortable with the older-looking man standing farther from your group, weary with age. You lingered on the Russian, ready to act if the old man had dark intentions. They spoke, hands moving in small and wide gestures as they exchanged words. You were too far to catch a whisper of their discussion, but the smile that stretched on the man's lips told you it was going well. 
They shook hands and Nikolai called out, urging you to follow the Finnish. Edvard, the local that would host you during your stay, his cabin would act as your temporary safe house in the remote village. He was Nik's contact in the area, someone you couldn't trust to keep your location safe. Edvard had nothing to lose, an old man living alone on the outskirts of the village, and a family lost to Barkov’s tyranny.
The broken-down car burped and spewed exhaust with loud rumbles, it seemed as old - if not, older - than the driver itself. Your team of seven, four of which were burly men and three leaner but still cracked with layers of warm jackets, vests and gear, somehow fit. With little to no baggage, except a bag from each, four of you fit the car, it was tight but you made it work, Nikolai sat at the front and the two last - Soap and Gaz - were left out in the cold, in the pickup’s bed with the bags. It was a miracle the ford hadn’t dropped from the sheer, combined weight of its passengers. 
The hour-long ride was uncomfortable, being forced to lay over their laps to fit during a long and bumpy road promised a sore back, especially when you were staring up at your Lieutenant’s face. The warm brown hues that hazed back down through the tinted glasses made you flush, his gaze had always been intense, in and out of duty. None of your teammate’s stare compared to Ghost’s. The ride was silent, awkward to the point you’d hear a pin drop if Nikolai and Edvard weren’t talking - a rough mix of Finnish and Russian that none of you understood - and the boisterous chatter from the men outside. Talking helped get the mind off the cold air, gloves, hats and balaclava weren’t enough for the cold. Their chattering helped mince the uncomfortableness you felt, forced to stare continuously at the man who liked being unseen. 
You were out the second the engine was shut down, jumping from Ghost’s side as if their bodies burned you. You were grateful they hadn’t mentioned your little run, knowing it was unbearably confining. The cabin wasn’t much, but it had heat, food and warm water, it wasn’t decrepit looking nor was it run down. You shrugged your glasses once you stepped into the cabin, white light illuminated the open-concept place furnished with old things, the yellowed doors were mostly rooms and a bathroom. Two rooms to the left and two others to the right, one was Edvard’s and you’d have to share the rest and the available couch. 
“I’ll take the couch,” Ghost’s decision was quickly made. He preferred to sleep alone - if he even slept - and taking the couch let him have the whole view of the cabin. It never sat well with him to stay the night in new places, new was unknown, and unknown was dangerous. He might sleep an hour or two, but he’d be ready to move if anything happened. 
“Roach with Winter, Gaz with Soap, and Nikolai with me.”
Tumblr media
Your team had foregone the pickup truck, it would’ve been easily seen and heard by the Russian’s guards and their surveillance around the forest. The trek through the forest was cold and quiet, you could see it a mile in, the compound stood out under the green pines with its white lights and the tall, grey walls. Your plan was to slip in through the back and take out the security system before Alpha and Bravo would go in. You and Gaz - team Echo - were tasked with taking down the two guards near the back entrance and from then, shut down the system and take out anyone on the way. 
“Team Echo in position, moving in, “ Gaz called, hand motioning you to take position and wait for his call to kill. One shot to the head, or a double tap to the chest. 
Your intel told you they had walked the same path every time, one man went left and the other, right, with a rotation every half hour. The last swap was five minutes ago, so you’d have around twenty-five minutes to complete your task. You followed the left man, watching through your night-vision goggle (NVG) his figure waddle between the trees. You moved quietly, approaching him with your handgun in both hands; you’d all agreed that it’d be a better option if you wanted to stay quiet, a muzzled handgun would echo less in an empty forest void of sound.
His steps were loud and careless, too used to being the only ones in the area, they covered yours and let you get closer to him. When you slid next to him, you shot out, side colliding with his back. He fell with a shout, eyes wide in shock as he reached for the rifle that fell a foot away from him. Before he could grasp it, you aimed for his head and fired, blood spraying from the wound as the exit hole oozed it. You searched his body, padding down his sides and hip until you found the keycard they used to leave and enter the facility.
You felt at ease, this was your field of work, killing was a better skill than healing in these moments, but being a field medic had its merit. Your hands were stable, your body moving by instinct - habits beaten in by your training - and your mind tuning the loud voices that swore at you. Everything felt colder, more numb when you were on duty, it was nearly calming to your mind, blocking out all noise when you were on the move - concentrate or you die.
“Gaz, what’s your status?” you called, standing from the body, sliding back into the dark.
“Good, meet me back,” he answered, and you could hear the snow crunch beneath his feet. 
You backtracked and flipped up your NVG, seeing him crouched behind a tree and nodded when you caught his eye. You showed him the keycard, both entering the clearing around the walls. The door clicked open when you scanned the keycard, it beeped before you pushed it open. You looked both sides, rifle aimed for anyone to turn the corner and walked in when you saw it was safe. The insides buzzed with a loud hum, booming enough to almost cover your shots, so you and Gaz would have to hastily make your way to the security room. 
You move in first, Gaz watching your back as you followed the instructions Laswell gave towards the security room, her plans were clear and simple: once inside, down the left hall and turn right at the corner, then turn right and up the stairs to the fourth floor, the target room was the last door on the floor with a bold Безопасность - security. You watched both ways before you turned right, and did again before turning and stalking to the stairs. The climb was quiet, no one had entered or walked the east wing and the stairs were vacant. It was a rapid climb to the fourth floor, where the only ultranationalist you saw was entering the security room. You turned to Gaz, nodding a silent message - one you’d conveyed many times before - and hastily made your way to the room’s door. 
You burst through the door, throwing a flash grenade into the room before you rushed in with Gaz behind you. You heard their screams - two distinct voices, both males - and shot them down when they blindly searched the tables, one for his gun and the other for his radio. You searched the whole room before radioing the others: “Security room clear. I’m watching the cams, Cap’n. The backdoor’s still open, you have less than ten minutes. “
“Copy, Alpha moving out,” Price answered. 
“Bravo out,” Ghost replied, he and Soap moved to meet up with Alpha Team. 
They would make their way up, clearing floor by floor while you and Gaz would search the fourth floor for mercenaries and information. It was quickly done, you swept the floor, going room to room with your rifles raised, watching Gaz’s back as he led. You assumed the floor was vacant since no one rushed in after the screams, giving you enough time to search the security room for stray files or anything Laswell would appreciate getting her hands on. 
“Floor one, clear.” They cleared the first floor, moving up to the second. 
There were four doors apart from the security room, two held bunks and were dirtied with stray clothes and other inconspicuous things. Disgusting, you’d be punished severely for having such messy barracks and rooms, laps around the base of extra training time, the Ultranationalists had no organization in this base - different from others you’ve seen. The third room was an archive of some sort, rows and rows of file boxes, all unlocked. They were old files, you swiped through each box and saw the dates marked on the manila folders. Some were dated from before the 21st century, the oldest from 1989 and the most recent from a month ago. There were too many to take, but Laswell told you to search for a computer and save whatever was on the drive.  
The last door led to a briefing room, albeit small, with a computer placed on the table. This was what you were tasked to find, you skimmed the side, searching for the disk or drive that held the information you needed. 
“Floor two, clear.” It had been quiet on their side, they met enemies on the way.
While you were preoccupied with the laptop, Gaz looked over the folders spread on the table, flipping pages and reading words he didn’t understand. Russian, they were written in Russian and none of you were able to read, nor speak it. Sure, you understood, but only enough to know the basics. Your finger nudged the small edge of a disk, the round corners of the plastic rectangle. You pushed it lightly and it slid out, grabbing the protruding cartridge and placing it in the pocket of your black jacket, under your vest. 
“Found the drive.”
“And I got the files, seems important enough.”
It was radio silence for a while, you waited for the other teams’ reply before moving down, watching the room’s door for gunmen. You locked eyes with Gaz, asking him whether you should move or wait for them. Although both sergeants, you trusted his experience in a field he was thrust into longer than you, he had the rank years before a greenie like you. If he told you to wait, you’d wait; if he wants to move out, you’d follow him out. 
“Floor three, clear-“ the radio cracked, Soap growled into his mic, a deep, throaty sound akin to Ghost’s roars. “We’re moving up.” The gravely tone told you all you had to know, he and Ghost met someone on their floor. 
From your position, you watched the door open and Price popped his head in, nodding his head towards Gaz - folder in his hand - and you - disc secured in your vest. With Price’s order for evac, you all followed him out, face snugly hidden under your black balaclava and thick clothes in the cold winter of Finland’s night. 
Tumblr media
Price called Laswell once you confirmed you were safely back to Edvard’s cabin, jumping into a secure line and retelling your mission with the promise of giving her the disc and folder once you landed on British ground, back on familiar land with cloudy days and rainy evenings. While the colder air was refreshing, a sight you last saw years back, nothing felt better than familiar ground, the safety and comfort your barack brought or the thrill and amusement the pub you went to last week left you with, watching your team getting wasted on alcohol to a successful mission. 
You’d wait out the night, trading posts for night watch with the others, your team’s paranoia of being followed and never knowing if the enemy had called for backup after you reached the security room. So many times bad luck struck you, fate dealing you a bad hand in your endeavours. Ghost would go first, being the most paranoid out of everyone - for good reasons, he’d been betrayed too many times to count, and he knew the sharp edge of a knife better than anyone else - then you’d take his place, let him rest while he could, after you, Soap, Gaz, Roach and Price, the Captain would be able to wake everyone up in the early morning. 
You tried sleeping, rolling from one side to the other, one leg knocking the other while your mind stormed with wild thoughts and wandering words. Your eyes closed, ears muffled with the soft cover of your pillow, but sleep evaded you, chased away from stray thoughts. The voices, and the screaming pain from memories long gone haunted you when you weren’t on field, the drowned-out sounds of gunfire and grenades submerged the memories. Tonight, however, the cries were louder, more painful and desperate than they were yesterday or the day before, twisted and turning wouldn’t do you any good, nor would it do Roach any good, who slept a few feet away from you. 
So you left your bed, what harm would it bring if you took your post early, you couldn’t sleep and wouldn’t be able to either. Sound sleep had escaped your grasp the moment you touched Finland. Outside the door, you caught Ghost staring back at you, alerted by the sound and movement of your exit. You gazed back at him, silent as he was with his beautiful, brown eyes. 
“Mind if I join you?” you tentatively asked, voice low to not startle the others. You stopped on the other side of the couch, waiting for his reply. You were hyper-fixed on his eyes.
While your relationship with him had a bumpy start, you admired him, you looked up to the beast he was: solemn and strong-willed. He moved forward without looking back, seeing things until the end without an ounce of hesitation in his step, of fear or trepidation on his face - his warm eyes - and he never stooped low, head held high and powerful. His huge figure with broad shoulders and thick arms were distracting at times, when you saw him walk down the hall at the base, cloaked in black and a simple, skull-painted balaclava over his face than his masked one. 
He was your lieutenant, your second in command and you trusted him with your life as he did with you, months of working side by side had strengthened the link between you. From strangers to colleges to brothers in arms. You learned to read the smallest signs on him, from non-verbal, tensing shoulders to the dilated joy in his eyes when you watched the others stumble drunkenly. 
You moved when he nodded slightly, eyes watching you sit beside him before returning to gazing out the windows. Join him, you did, silently sharing this moment with Ghost, rare moments of calmness (even with the noise in your head). You sat in silence, a few calming minutes of respite, you traced the few visible stars from the inside of the dark cabin. The countryside had its perks, especially at night, where only darkness clouded the skies, this one was painted with stars, some bright, some dim. It was a sight for sore eyes for city dwellers like you, used to the grey skyline and bright skyscrapers that loomed over the houses and flats in the UK. 
“Couldn’t sleep?” Ghost’s voice was mellow, having a slight rasp from the small use of his voice. It was deep and soothing to your ear, it captured your attention and kept it on him. His question wouldn’t be left unanswered. 
You hummed, bobbing your head as you peered at him from the corner of your eyes, trying to catch a glimpse of the dark lashes fluttering when he blinked. His face was turned towards you, his pretty eyes looking at you with calmness in them. Perhaps he knew your answer wasn’t satisfactory for him, or perhaps he knew you hid something from him. Something weighed on his mind, you could tell by his continuous staring. You wouldn’t urge him to ask the question that lingered on his tongue, not unless he felt comfortable to ask it. You learned quickly that he was as mentally guarded as he was physically, building a thick and high wall around himself, it rarely cracked but it did.
You tethered on the limit of his comfort, the nearness between you was as close as you could get to him without having him tense, however, physical touch was a negative. You did once touch him and he flinched, muscle rippling and freezing at your cool gloves, you hadn’t touched him since then. You knew the fear of being touched, you’ve been once before, though you worked it off slightly. You still jumped, but you wouldn’t panic. 
“Somethin’ bothering you?” he finally asked, pushing out the words after a tense moment in his body.
“Not really,” you shook your head, returning his stare. “Just feeling excited about returning home. It feels safer, no?”
This time he hummed, a distracting sound that rumbled out of his throat. You loved the sound of his voice, albeit rare for him to speak more than a few lines here and there, you cherished the moments he did. You could sit here, with him, gazing into each other’s eyes, admiring him for everything he was. Respect and loyalty were given to him, for his experience and his trauma. You knew the way everyone looked at him, fear from outsiders and warmth from the Task Force, they were your family as you were theirs.
“You won’t mind if I stay here ‘till I take over, L.T.?”
Next
Tumblr media
Tag list (reply here if you want to be tagged): @lauraliisa @iirosietumbles @thefairybird @jemandderkeinenusernamenfindet @tayaisback @deadpoetsandhoney @ghost-reine @raidenmylove @sollucifer @dontfollowmepleaseitsannoying @mandythemint @static-knight @suzuyamitsuki @rk111 @shuttlelauncher81 @discowizard88 @v1naco @imjustabebeh2003 @tbrfic @hotchlover @mstosi @beakami @iirosietumbles @ghostindeath @phantumsimp @embers-of-alluring @cumbermovels
277 notes · View notes
s-dei · 5 months
Text
Tumblr media
This summer I got to read Nemesis novel (mostly to munch on some thinges for Nikolai). He was such an adorable bastard most of the time, but it was clear in the middle they're going to give him the bad ending option. Yep, after everything he did it was pretty much deserved, but I still was kinda astonished and needed to process on this one, coz oh. Yes Nemmy doing the natural things, but oooh xD
So yeah, this is not my usual type of drawing and theme (you killing your blorbo???), but how they say "canon typical violense" and it was not bad to explore it. Full ver under the cut. CW: death, gore, blood, intestines, guts out, torn in half
Tumblr media
39 notes · View notes
nandermoenthusiast · 3 years
Text
im begging shadow and bone to cast a man with sam claflin energy for nikolai and not these very stern looking men that i keep seeing speculation about
32 notes · View notes
vanilla-vivillon · 3 years
Text
On November 14th Zoya and Nikolai had welcomed there third child into this world
Prince Koloda Grigori Nazyalensky 5Koda for short
He had warm brown skin and a smattering of freckles across his nose and cheeks
he had inherited his fathers blond locks in cute ringlets
And had the deep watchful brown eyes Zoya remembered her father had
He was rather quiet
And now that Myca was five and Nazariy was three
They could actually have an opinion about a new sibling
“How come he has blond hair? I want blonde hair!” Nazariy whined pulled at an ebony lock
Nikolai, Myca, and Nazariy were in Koda’s nursery
Nikolai wanted to let Zoya rest
And he adored his sons but saints they were annoying and Zoya needed a break
“Ask Aunt Genya to tailor your hair then” Myca swiftly replied
A new habit of Mycas was trying to fix Nazariys complaints
It seems Myca hasn’t realized that Nazariy like many three year olds complains for the sake of complaining
“Hey Dad I have a question” Myca stated
“What’s up Myca?” Nikolai had been to infatuated with Koda to fully Pay attention to his other sons
Nikolai felt the guilt creep in
The Old King mostly ignored Nikolai his entire upbringing
It was always Vasily
Nikolai swore that he would never make his children feel like that
“What’s up Myca?” Nikolai asked
“Why did you give Koda the middle name Grigori?” Myca wondered
“After an old friend me and Mommy had” Nikolai gave an easy reaponse
Apparently bored of complaining Nazariy piped up “who’s this friend?”
“A bear” Nikolai said with a wink
“Now way!” Myca explained as Nazariys eyes went wide
“You can’t be friends with a bear!” Myca stated
“Well if you don’t believe... I don’t think I can tell you the story...” Nikolai said feigning indecision
“What! No! We believe you Daddy! Please tell us the story” Nazariy begged glaring at Myca
“Well it started with a sandstorm....”
Nazariy was four now and his testing date was coming up
His mother and father were off on a two month emergency peace visit with the Shu
And Naza was glad
It started at Breakfast
He was doing what he usually would do
Try to get Koda to laugh
Annoy Myca
The usual
But when Myca got the last cup of orange juice Naza thought it was unfair
He wished he could make that cup tip over and spill over Mycas kefta
It was so unfair Myca could train at The Little Palace and Nazariy couldn’t
He felt something deep inside him
Something odd and funny
That thing that came whenever he saw Mom or Dad praise Myca at summoning
Nazariy always ignored it
But now Nazariy directed the weird feeling towards his older brothers juice
“What the-”the orange juice tipped over and spilled on Mycas homework
“Delano is gonna kill me! We need these for the big project!” Myca exclaimed while trying to dry it with wind
A tiny part of Nazariy felt bad
But he should’ve given me that orange juice
Nazariy learned he could do many things
Like push someone to trip
Or float a cookie over to him
And one day he wanted to try something bigger
Nazariy and his brothers were strictly forbidden from going into the meeting room
He didn’t know why
But the thrill of trouble made him want to do it more
He found some Kerch etherrealki to help him
When you needed a job done Amani Patel was the girl to talk to
She gave him easy enough plans to get in and was able to sneak inside
It was a cozy room with plush leather sofas and a display case of alcohol
Nazariy wandered around a bit
It had a fireplace he was able to set ablaze using his newfound abilities
By now Nazariy figured out that he was a Squaller
But he hadn’t told anyone yet
He would eventually but for now this was just a him thing
Nazariy didn’t have a lot of secrets
So it was nice to have one
He started looking around and it seemed like a normal looking living room
Some cards
A fireplace
Dreadfully boring
But what was real interesting was an odd contraption
It must’ve been one of David Kostyk’s inventions
It had a yellow horn and a disk in a box
And Nazairy gave in to the urge to touch it
He started poking around at it and nothing seemed to happen
Until it started playing music
“Wooooow” Nazariy said astonished as smooth jazz began to play
He got on the table and started jumping up and down dancing
Nazariy then started creating some wind causing the cards and checkers to fly up(like that one scene In Matilda)
Tumblr media
The breeze was nice
“You having a dance party Nazariy?”
Nazariy instantly dropped everything and turned towards the door
There stood his parents and the triumvirate mouths agape
Nazariy looked at his father the speaker In question
“I thought you would be gone for three more weeks” Nazariy stuttered sneaking glances at his mother to see how much trouble he’s in
Blue eyes wide and mouth agape the Queen seemed to stunned to talk
“Yeah, Makhi was more agreeable then we thought” Genya replied agasht
In fact the only one who seemed unfazed was David Kostyk
He nonchalantly went an turned off the weird music box
Adrik Zhabin seemed to regain his composure
Nazariy and Adrik never really got along
Nazariy was the type who enjoyed a good ruckous
And Adrik was the type who despised shenanigans
“You aren’t allowed to be in here” Adrik glared “And I hope you know your the one who’s going to clean this up”
“Oh come on, the kid was just having fun!” Tamar said picking Nazariy up and placing him off the table
“He ruined by poetry” Tolya sighed staring at the mess of a bookshelf
Books were torn and haphazard around the room
“Is that really a travesty” Nazariy murmured under his breath
It seemed everyone was still in shock
Especially his mother
She regained her composure
“So your also a Squaller?” Zoya questioned
But she wasn’t happy either
“Uhhhhhhhh...” Nazariy squeaked
“A prince doesn’t stutter Nazariy” Zoya scolded raising a brow
“Yeah. Yeah, I’m Grisha” Nazariy stated now raising his head and straightening his back
Nazariy couldn’t read his mother
She didn’t look mad
But she definitely wasn’t happy
At that Nikolai picked up Nazariy
“You couldn’t have a nice and easy testing to find out huh?” Nikolai laughed
Whenever his dad laughed Nazariy had to laugh to
They were quite close those two
While Myca and his father could have trouble sometimes
Nazariy was always easier
Whiny Nikolai could handle
But dead serious was trickier
“He wants to keep us on our toes”Tamar replied smoothly
Zoya who seemed to be done deliberating exclaimed “Everyone out except Nikolai and Nazariy”
Everyone shuffled out of the room shooting him putting looks
And patting him on the back
Once the door closed Zoya turned her eyes on him
They weren’t silver so it wasn’t like she was enraged
“How long have you known?” Zoya questioned
Nikolai stood behind Nazariy
In times like this when Nazariy messes up his dad was kinda like his lawyer
“Three weeks”
“And does anyone else know?” Nikolai asked
Nazariy shook his head “not even Myca"
“Why didn’t you tell anyone?” Zoya wondered
“I don’t know” Nazariy replied to quickly
Zoya raised a brow
“Well.... it’s just” Nazariy started grasping for words “I don’t really have a lot of me things that are just mine... now I always have to share everything with Koda and Mycas always super busy. I was gonna tell you i swear!”
His parents exchanged glances
“We’re not mad Nazariy” His father finally said
“But we want you to know you can tell us anything” Zoya finished
“Okay Mommy” Nazariy said with a smile
I can’t even pretend I’m doing this for anyone but myself. I don’t know if anyone actually reads these but yolo lol.
As always, my ask box is open and I take any Grishaverse requests
36 notes · View notes
Text
Child of Blood and Salt - Chapter 3
It would be fair to say that a coughing Inej, a murdersus and bloodied Kaz, and a strange dark haired girl who looked like she’d been through the ringer to be the burglar that would have broken into the Van Eck Mansion. Jesper glazed quickly at his boyfriend beside him to make sure he wasn’t going crazy and that the two deadliest people in Ketterdam and some random pirate chick just hadn’t broken into their house. “Ya,” Anya said passing Kaz while dusting herself off already making herself at home in the mansion, “You definitely missed me.” It was Wylan who spoke next, now giving Anya a curious look. “Saints Kaz! What-” “Sorry to barge in,” Kaz cut off now giving Anya a deadly stare that if Jesper had received would of sent him running to the hills , “but we needed a safe place to hide out.” “From what!” Jesper said, now looking over their bloodied and bruised bodies. “Sandwatch,” Kaz said, giving a look to Anya and leading the group to the main sitting room.” Jeseper and Wylan were left in a state of utter astonishment, and caught up just in time. “You know what, call me crazy, but haven’t we all been here before. I thought I had settled into a life of ease and comfort!” Jesper explained. “Ya,” Kaz said, now making himself comfortable and shooting Anya a pointed look, “I did too. But I’d really love to hear your excuse you promised me” “Who is this?” Jesper mouthed to Inej who shook her head just as easily confused. “Come on!” Anya explained to Kaz, who both now seemed to forget there were three other people in the room in the heat of their argument. “I think we're overdue for a family reunion,” Kaz scoffed. That's when Inej noticed. The dark hair, the same chocolate brown eyes. She would kick herself for not noticing it sooner because now it was so obvious. Even their noses looked the same. They were related. “I’m in a bit of a situation,” Anya starts. “An understatement.” “Kaz, please,” “No, no, because this is what you do An, you show up at unexpected moments and rain down hell wherever you go. And who's there to fix your mistakes? Me. ” Kaz exploded jumping out of his chair. “And what- what happened to you sailing around the world. Aren't you supposed to be pirating around on Sturmhond's boat right now? Whatever happened to that? And what about that house in Nova Zem?” Kaz looked accelerated, Jesper and Inej had never seen him worked up like this before. The room was dead silent as Wylan, Jesper, and Inej silently waited on the edge of their seats to see how the story played out. The housekeeper was now bringing out more kavs and glasses which Jesper accepted happily.
“Kaz” Anya said, now losing her humorous energy, “I’m one of Sturmods most trusted crew members.” She explained looking Kaz in the eyes. “I know.” Kaz didn't let his surprise show but said “and how does this change anything?” Anya opened her mouth to say something but words to tell Kaz all the things that she was hiding could't find her.
“Okay!” Jesper finally exploded, “I’m sorry Kaz, but can someone please explain what in saints name is going on here!” Kaz and Anya were finally broken out of their transe of anger and stared at Jesper as if they just realized they all were there. She sighed. “You're Jesper, the sharpshooter, right?” Anya gestured to him, to which he gave a nod. “So that means you must be...Wylan,” Anya continued, “And of course you’re Inej.” She finally turned to Inej who could now clearly see that resemblance between Kaz and Anya in the better lighting of the Van Eck Mansion. “And you are Kaz’s sister,” Inej said with confidence. Jesper spit out his Kavs with a loud unpleasant sound and Wylan's eyes widened in shock. Anya stood still, not denying the accusation. “Wylan, please tell me I’m dreaming, this is all a dream. There is not a female verson of Kaz Brekker in our living room. ” Jesper said turning to Wylan who rolled his eyes and turned to Kaz, “Kaz, I never knew.” “Yes, well that wasthe point wasn’t it.” Kaz said with an annoyed glance at Anya, who rolled her eyes. “But, you’re Grisha,” Inej said with confused glances between the siblings, “aren't you?” Anya opened her mouth to respond but Kaz got there faster. “She was tested when we were children,” Kaz explained, “Before our parents died. You were to be brought to the Little Place but our parents struck a deal with an orphanage in Nova Zem, a place where Grisha children could live in peace, outside the second army. It's wear she grew up .” Kaz sat down again now knowing he couldn't keep his secret sister from his crows any longer. “We met years ago, and Anya had gotten a position of Sturmhond's crew. We had other meetings throughout the years, it’s where I went those two weeks last year.” It was all making sense to the crows now, but Anya’s head was down listening to Kaz tell her story. “That's where I thought you were,” Kaz said, turning to his sister, “Look, Anya I have enough on my plate as it is. I'm sure you have more than enough resources to fix whatever problem Sturmhold - Nikolai - has gotten himself into.” Anya finally looked up at her brother, cane in hand, sitting in front of her in a big leather chair. Inej was standing by his side, a look of concern on her beautiful features. Wylan was looking like he was in a state of shock sitting next to Jesper who was looking at Kaz like he was dressed in rainbow colors and juggling baby tigers. Anya knew then that if she was going to get her brother's help she needed to come clean, about everything. “I’ve never been Novia Zem, Kaz” She said after a long moment of silence. Kaz’s head shut up quickly. “No,” He reasoned, “after you were tested-” “No Kaz. There is no secret magical place where Grisha children can be who they are outside of the second army. It’s fiction.” There were no tears in her eyes but her face displayed a look of trauma as she recounted her story. “There was a slaver in town, he offered our parents a lot of money if they would give me up. You know we were poor, we were really poor, and besides they were always terrified of my power, I displayed it so young. So, they took me, but the slaver he wasn’t, well he wasn’t really a slaver was he. Markin Yaroslavovich.” “Wait,” Jesper piped in, “I’ve heard that name before. Something about a raid on his estate in The Wandering Isle, but that's all." “Most people don’t know him, always kept under the radar.” Anya said and she gave a harsh dark laugh suddenly changing from her humorous demeanor. “He called himself a “collector” of Grisha. He was maniacally obsessed with our power and collected corporalki, like myself, and Etherealki and Materialki from all around the world. It was his life mission to create his own army, outside Ravka. That’s where I grew up, in a dark palace along with thirty other helpless Grisha. You think the conditions of the Little Palace training was bad, this was- it was hell. He experimented on us, controlled us, wanted something like Judra Palm to make us, him, more powerful. More than half of us died. Luckily he wasn’t able to get his hands
on it the judra parlm tho. Then finally when the second army got wind of what was going on they sent a rescue mission. Only three of us survived the escape, me, a squaller, and one durast. When we got to Ravka, they said we could go to the Southern Colonies and the squaller and durast did, but I- I don’t know I couldn't go to the colonies and not use my power, it was all I’ve ever known. So, I stayed.” Anya finally met Kaz’s eyes who she’d been avoiding though her own speech. “I’ve one of the best Heartrenders in the second army Kaz. I used my full name and now I’m training new Grisha in the second army. But, I am on Sturmonds crew, Nikolai does need some grisha backup every once and while.” Kaz didn't yell or glare at his sister, but listened carfully just if she was reading him a bedtime story. “Why didn’t you tell me?” Kaz said now speaking, “How did I- how did I not know” “You're used to knowing everything about everything Kaz, but Yaroslavovich was an expert of not being noticed and the whole mission was covered up by the second army, but I’m sorry I didn’t tell you. When I first met you I was traveling with Sturmhond and I just didn't, I couldn't relive it then.” “I don’t blame you for anything, Anastasia.” Anya smiled at this. “But that doesn’t explain-” “Why I’ve shown up unexpectedly with people trying to kill me, yes I know. Can Van Eck and the Sharpshooter be trusted?” “Debatable, but we’ll probably need them for whatever scheme you're planning.” Anya cocked her head in agreement. “Nikolai’s been taken.” At that Jesper spit up, yet again, his drink. “Who-” Inej cut in. “His brother Vasily, he’s always been jealous of him, but most importantly he wants the crown and he’ll do anything to do it and that means killing his brother. Nikolai, as Sturmond, was on one last recon mission before returning to Ravka, and he was ambushed. Vasily, is playing it off as a tragic accident and the whole palace and army is with him. Only me and a couple other Grisha, Zoya, Nadia Genya,a durast named David, and heartrender twins Tamar and Toyla know the truth. I left a days ago, and they are probably already questioning everyone. It’s hell at the palace now, Vasily has got everyone in a tight grasp and he's not letting go.” Kaz nodded his head, the life changing information unfazed his cold features. “How do you know that he’s not already dead? I mean why not just assassinate him and finish the job why kidnap him?” “They need him. He’s the only one who knows the secret plans for the peace treaty with Fjerda I don't even know them. They can’t risk killing him without that information, but they’ll do a lot to get it out of him. David’s narrioided down his location somewhere in Novyi Zem,” “That’s a pretty big peraminter.” Wylan piped in now sitting up in his chair. “I know, but I have several contacts there so I think I can narrow it down a bit when we get there, if you are still in.” “And what exactly would be our role in your little king rescue mission.” “I have none of Ravka’s resources with me, plus we will probably be breaking into a heavily guarded place, isn’t that your guys' thing.” “Know that does sound like fun.” Jesper said “There’s also the added benefit that you’ll be saving the entirety of Ravka from a Vasily rain. So what do you say, big brother, wanna rescue a king?”
14 notes · View notes
hub-pub-bub · 5 years
Link
Works by Woolf, Dumas, Kipling
As you may know, what’s described as hundreds of thousands of copyrighted works were released into the public domain today (January 1) in the United States. They include not only books but also Cecil B. DeMille’s film The 10 Commandments, Noël Coward’s musical London Calling! and one of the greatest revenge songs ever written, “Who’s Sorry Now?” the music for which is by Ted Snyder with lyrics by Bert Kalmar and Harry Ruby.
Such a formidable entry into the public domain hasn’t happened in the States in more than 20 years.
And the reason for that exposes one of the more interesting elements of copyright law: while  today we tend to worry about instances in which copyright protection is being weakened—as is the case in Canada where the Copyright Modernization Act has severely damaged copyright revenue collection for publishers and authors in the educational domain—there are actually cases in which overly zealous copyright protection is a problem, as well.
In the book industry and here at Publishing Perspectives, you often encounter concerns about “the erosion of copyright” as a grave and growing danger in the digital era. And so it is.
But you’ll find the phrase “erosion of the public domain” most pertinent to today’s news. And that’s because of a 1998 law called the Copyright Term Extension Act, or the Sony Bono Act—named for the entertainer-turned-congressman who died in a skiing accident nine months prior to the act’s passage.
As the staff of the Duke University Center for the Study of the Public Domain writes in an article called “The Incredible Shrinking Public Domain” there have been several steps in copyright legislation in the United States, resulting in the situation today.
We’re bulleting out the center’s text for you here for clarity and to make the progression of changes clearer:
1790: “When Congress passed the first copyright law in 1790, the copyright term lasted for 14 years, with the option to renew for another 14 years if the copyright holder was still living.
Until 1978: “Before 1978, the copyright term was still 28 years from the date of publication, renewable once for another 28 years—but 85 percent of copyrights were not renewed and went immediately into the public domain.
1978: “Under the 1976 Copyright Act—which went into effect in 1978—the term became 50 years from the date of the author’s death (with no need to renew to have the full term).
1998: “And in 1998, the copyright term was increased to 70 years after the death of the author, and to 95 years after publication for corporate “works-for-hire”, locking up an entire generation of works for an additional 20 years. With these and interim extensions, the copyright term has been extended 11 times in the past 50 years.”
And because that 1998 extension was retroactively applied to works that were then about to go into the public domain, there are works being released today that go all the way back to 1923: they were originally to have entered the public domain two decades ago.
‘The Mickey Mouse Act’
The Duke center researchers report that an astonishing 98 percent of copyrighted material now may be “orphaned”—a term that means no rights holders can be found or identified for these works. Studies, the center reports, indicate that only 2 percent of works now between 55 and 75 years old still have commercial value. So no one is benefitting from their protected status, “while the entire public,” writes the center’s staff, “loses the ability to adapt, transform, preserve, digitize, republish, and otherwise make new and valuable uses of these forgotten works.”
Glenn Fleishman wrote the Bono Act at The Atlantic in April, in a reflection of how the late Rep. Bono–who represented California’s 44th district—is understood to have been driven primarily by Hollywood’s interest in longer protections.
This is how the Sonny Bono Act got another, less felicitous nickname for itself: The Mickey Mouse Act.
“The Sonny Bono Act,” Fleishman writes, “was widely seen as a way to keep Disney’s Steamboat Willie from slipping into the public domain, which would allow that first appearance of Mickey Mouse in 1928 from being freely copied and distributed. By tweaking the law, Mickey got another 20-year reprieve. When that expires [in 2024], Steamboat Willie can be given away, sold, remixed, turned pornographic, or anything else.”
And in an insightful opinion piece, The New York Times’ editorial board on February 21, 1998, wrote:
“What vexes any discussion of copyright is the idea of benefit. It is easy to see what the Disney Corporation will lose when Mickey Mouse goes out of copyright, as he will within a few years. It is harder to specify what the public will lose if Mickey Mouse does not go out of copyright.
“The tendency, when thinking about copyright, is to vest the notion of creativity in the owners of copyright. But artists, including those who work for places like Disney, always emerge from the undifferentiated public, and the works in the public domain, which means nearly every work of any kind produced before the early 1920’s, are an essential part of every artist’s sustenance, of every person’s sustenance. So far, Congress has heard no representatives of the public domain. It has apparently forgotten that its own members are meant to be those representatives.”
As for books, in particular, the Duke center’s Balfour Smith’s research has produced a helpful list, according to which some of the works today being released into the public domain include:
Jacob’s Room, Virginia Woolf
Maestro-Don Geusaldo, Giovanni Verga, translated by DH Lawrence
Ivanhoe, Walter Scott, illustrations by Frank E. Schoonover
Heidi, Johanna Spyri, illustrations by Gustaf Tanggren
The Prospects of Industrial Civilization, Bertrand Russell
Bel Ami, Guy de Maupassant
If Men Played Cards as Women Do, George S. Kaufman
The Three Musketeers, Alexandre Dumas
The Prophet, Kahlil Gibran
Dead Souls, Nikolay Gogol
Land and Sea Tales for Boys and Girls, Rudyard Kipling
Where Are We Going?, David Lloyd George
Harmonium, Wallace Stevens
The Murder of Roger Ackroyd and The Murder on the Links, Agatha Christie
St. Joan, George Bernard Shaw
Towards a New Architecture, Le Corbusier (Charles-Édouard Jeanneret)
Whose Body?, Dorothy L. Sayers
‘The Second Part of the Copyright Bargain’
In arguing its case, the Duke center’s messaging takes care to counter any suggestion that its policies are in some way anti-copyright.
Public domain is “the second part of the copyright bargain; the limited period of exclusive rights ends and the work enters the realm of free culture.”Duke University Center for the Study of the Public Domain
“Does all this mean that copyright is a bad system?” we read in the center’s material. “Of course not. Copyright gives creators—authors, musicians, filmmakers, photographers—exclusive rights over their works for a limited time. This encourages creators to create and publishers to distribute—that’s a very good thing.
“But when the copyright ends, the work enters the public domain—to join the plays of Shakespeare, the music of Mozart, the books of Dickens—the material of our collective culture. That’s a good thing too. It’s the second part of the copyright bargain; the limited period of exclusive rights ends and the work enters the realm of free culture.
“Prices fall, new editions come out, songs can be sung, symphonies performed, movies displayed. Even better, people can legally build on what came before.”
And in honor of this important “Public Domain Day” in the States, we leave you with four verses that are among the best-loved poetry of the American canon.
Robert Frost’s 1922 “Stopping by Woods on a Snowy Evening” was published in 1923, renewed by Frost in 1951, and then copyrighted in 1969 by Henry Holt and Company as part of The Poetry of Robert Frost, edited by Edward Connery Lathem.
Before today, this poem technically couldn’t be fully quoted in a formal publication without permission of the publisher. Now, it can.
Stopping by Woods on a Snowy Evening By Robert Frost
Whose woods these are I think I know. His house is in the village though; He will not see me stopping here To watch his woods fill up with snow.
My little horse must think it queer To stop without a farmhouse near Between the woods and frozen lake The darkest evening of the year.
He gives his harness bells a shake To ask if there is some mistake. The only other sound’s the sweep Of easy wind and downy flake. The woods are lovely, dark and deep, But I have promises to keep, And miles to go before I sleep, And miles to go before I sleep.
1 note · View note