alina (starkov) oretsev (sankta) wrote in thedisplaced, @ 2017-11-29 22:49:00 |
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Entry tags: | !log/thread, alina starkov, mal oretsev |
WHO: Alina & Mal
WHAT: Alina wins the prank war
WHEN: Backdated to earlier in the month
WHERE: The Volkvolny
WARNINGS: None
Alina had let a little bit of time pass. Just to get Mal’s guard down.
In the meantime, she had planned. She and Mal had done this sometimes when they were little, but the pranks had to be small enough to catch no one else’s attention, or else they would get into trouble.
They didn’t have that problem now.
Alina had a wider arsenal at the ready, all of their living space, and all the powers that came with being a Sun Summoner. So, she plotted and schemed, and finally set up five different motion sensors around their rooms that would let out a steady squirt of water when passed in front of. She tested to make sure that she could hide herself with her own powers. She put one right at the front door, one at the door to their bedroom, one in front of the mirror in the bathroom, one in the kitchen, and one in Mal’s closet.
And then she waited.
…
Mal was sure a retaliation was coming, and the longer Alina waited, the worse he was expecting it to be.
That was fine by him. He was glad that his silly little prank had made her laugh. He was glad that she’d been comfortable joking about ‘destroying’ him, after she’d gotten so freaked out about hurting him with her power. It meant that she was healing. He didn’t care how gross or inconvenient her pranks got for him; that was worth it.
So when he walked in the front door one afternoon and was hit in the face and chest with a spray of water, he made a slightly startled sound, but he wasn’t really surprised. He raised one hand to wipe off his face, and started to laugh.
--
Alina had been listening for the sound of the door opening ever since she had set up her “traps.” She could hear the quiet splash of water from where she was and then Mal’s resounding laugh. Alina pressed a hand over her own mouth to try and calm her giggles -- although she was also trusting that Mal would hear them and come find her.
She was seated in the kitchen, so Mal would have to come through one more to find her. She had every intention of going into the bedroom before him later and obscuring herself with her light so that he wouldn’t suspect anything.
What could she say?
...
“Nice one, Starkov,” Mal called, when Alina didn’t immediately appear. He suspected she was here, since she usually was when he got home, and because this water trap hadn’t been here when he’d left. Wouldn’t she want to wait around to see the results of her hard work?
But if she wasn’t appearing, then there must be more in store for him. He moved cautiously away from the door, looking around carefully, for anything that might hint at another prank attack. He knew there must be something that would give it away, but Alina had done it cleverly enough that he did not find it. He approached the door to the kitchen and peered around the corner, spotting her at the table.
Then he stepped through the door, and got another faceful of water. He spluttered for a moment, and then lunged blindly in Alina’s direction, to wrap his arms around her and get her wet as well.
--
Alina remained quiet in the kitchen when she heard Mal shout her name into the rest of their living space. She didn’t answer him. She figured she could let him put those tracking skills to good use for a little bit.
When he stepped through and got his second faceful of water, Alina couldn’t help but burst out into peals of laughter. She didn’t fight Mal, but let him gather her up in his arms, not minding that she was also getting wet.
…
Mal shook his head to spray her with water from his face and hair, grinning the whole time. He was thoroughly enjoying it, especially the sound of her laughter. He’d been expecting her to try to pull away from him, but he didn’t mind that she wasn’t, either. He could feel the warmth of her through his soaked shirt.
“You got me,” he said, after he had shaken off enough water that the dripping had slowed. He pressed a wet kiss on her cheek, just above her jaw. “You know I’m going to get you back, right?”
--
Alina wrinkled her nose when Mal started to shake his head. She tried to run a hand through his hair to slick it away from her and toward the back of his head, but she didn’t entirely succeed.
“Go ahead and tell, Oretsev,” she said, still smiling as she sank back into his hold. “If you tell me your next prank, I’ll know what defenses to set up.”
…
“Nice try,” Mal responded, smirking down at her. “You don’t get any hints. You’ll never see it coming.”
Truthfully, he had no particular ideas yet. He figured inspiration would strike at some point. At the moment he was distracted by enjoying this moment, the lightheartedness of it and the intimacy. “You got water on my shirt. This is a blood feud now.”
--
“Your clothes really aren’t that nice to be worthy of a blood feud,” Alina answered, amused. She was also content to remain in his arms for a little bit, and she let her arms encircle him a little more easily, her hands resting on his lower back. She didn’t doubt that the peace wouldn’t be maintained for much longer.
…
Mal inhaled exaggeratedly and released one arm around her to bring a hand to his chest, pretending to be shocked. “How dare you. My clothes are beautiful.”
Truthfully, his clothes were more utilitarian than anything else, although Mal was vain enough to have picked them for aesthetic, too. Even if that was only the way they fit him well.
--
“But are they?” Alina asked, still smiling up at him. She knew that she wasn’t one to talk. She didn’t have much fashion sense either -- she suspected that Genya would have enjoyed all the fabric and fashion that was available to them here, but Alina, much like Mal, opted for function first and comfort second. Look was a very distant third.
…
“Yes,” Mal said, refusing to back down. They were certainly the most beautiful clothes he could feel comfortable in, if he wanted to try to rationalize it; he had never felt quite right in anything fancier. And while they were on the subject, he appreciated Alina in her utilitarian clothes rather than anything that was meant for showing her off. The fancier her clothes, the more he was reminded of the way it had felt when he thought she was meant to be a queen, a saint - way out of his league. “And they will have their revenge for this slight against their honor.”
He pulled back, made a grab for the salt shaker on the table, and shook it at her as he stepped back and out of her range.
--
Despite the prank war, Alina had expected to be kissed sometime around then and instead Mal was suddenly pulling away and shaking salt at her.
She supposed she should have expected that.
“Mal!” she shouted, more for the distraction rather than actually caring about being hit with salt. It was salt, and it was barely noticeable. (Although she could only imagine Eva Kuya chastising them for wasting any modicum of food.)
With that in mind, she grabbed the butter dish they had on the table and slapped the half melted butter against his chest.
…
Mal instinctively brought his hands up to defend himself, and only ended up with butter on his hands as well as his chest. He reached for her again, grabbing her arm and smearing butter on it as his hand slid - easily, thanks to the butter - from her wrist to her elbow.
“Trying to butter me up?” he asked, eyes glinting with amusement.
--
“No,” Alina gasped when she heard Mal’s terrible pun, but she was laughing as well. All that fighting training gone to absolute use, because she was too busy laughing at Mal to really focus on evading his slippery butter grip.
She made a face as he smeared the butter down her arm and then she wiped her still covered fingers across his cheek.
…
Mal laughed, and turned his head away as she wiped butter on his cheek. It was a little gross, and definitely a waste of food, but worth it. He hadn’t heard Alina laugh this hard in a while.
He held on to her elbow with one buttery hand, and made a grab for her other wrist with his free hand. He lifted her hand to his mouth and kissed her knuckles. “It’s working anyway.”
--
Alina shrieked, almost playfully, when he made a grab for her other wrist. If she had been an outsider in the situation, she would have hated the sound made by another girl, but it had been awhile since she and Mal had been this goofy -- and, in part, she could do this because she knew how safe she was with him.
“It isn’t hard,” she answered, smiling up at him.
...
Mal narrowed his eyes at her, equally playfully. “Now you’re being nice,” he said, more seriously than before. “That’s suspicious.”
He liked it, though. He liked that smile especially, but even the shriek - a carefree, wild sound coming from her; she’d never made a sound like that when they were in any kind of trouble. He ran his thumb over her knuckles, watching her closely. “I think this calls for a distraction.”
He let that statement hang in the air for a moment, dramatically, and then leaned in to kiss her.
--