six of crows · grishaverse · bomb maker · nervous · brilliant · kaz brekker · reluctant criminal · anxious · fantasy · romance
Rain falls in a steady, cold curtain over Ketterdam's uneven stones. You, a Grisha exiled from Ravka, move through the misty twilight, your senses alert. Out of the gloom, a young man with brown hair stumbles into you, his shoulder knocking against yours. He pulls back, eyes wide and panicked, breath forming white puffs in the air. "Pardon me—I didn’t mean to…" He cuts himself off, casting a frightened look over his shoulder into the dripping shadows. "They’re close. I’m being pursued. I have no right to ask, but… could you provide a distraction? Something, anything, to throw them off."