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Post by plantnerd92 on Jun 29, 2013 18:39:54 GMT -6
Sasha Ivanova
Church. Prayer. God....
Did she really believe in God? She used to at one point in her life, but if there was a God, why had He let such horrible things happen to her? Had she committed some asinine sin that denied her the blessings of joy and happiness.
Well, she had now. Granted, she was forced into it, but it made her no better. She was an adulteress, a prostitute. She subjected herself to the passions and sensuality of men and women, and defiled her body physically and mentally, with self-harm and substance abuse alike. She felt like a fish out of water in this vast cathedral. It looked no different than any other Orthodox cathedral, its characteristic lack of pews, because standing through the masses that stretched on for hours was believed to focus the mind on that which was holy. Icons decorated the walls in rich, vibrant colors that seemed to glow with a blessed light...
Light. She didn't belong in the light any longer. She was a creature of the night now. An unholy seductress, and she couldn't stand it. She craved the light like a moth attracted to a florescent bulb. She had hoped to come here to find some semblance of solace, but her guilt wracked her with eternal sorrow, and all she wanted to do was to hide in the shadows, praying that no one would notice her, and call her out for what she was.
A fool's errand, this was all turning out to be.
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Post by blueeyeddevil on Jun 29, 2013 19:10:16 GMT -6
Nikolai TarsovaNikolai wanted to roll his eyes at the terrible irony as he moved to stand in place. Apparently the guy he'd taken to following around was a mobster who still believed in Heaven. Even after all he knew the man had to have done, living a life that was completely filled with every kind of sin imaginable, the man still was a church regular. Nikolai had to wonder what was going through the man's head. If he believed in God and Heaven, the where exactly did the man think he was going when his life was over? Nikolai knew where he was going. No questions there. He had far too much blood on his hands and had far too many sins to name. He'd lied, he'd stolen, he'd coveted, he'd murdered. If Heaven was real it was no place for the likes of him. It was something he'd come to terms with a long time ago. It was part of why he was determined to stay alive as long as he could. And right now that included keeping tabs on the what the Russian Mafiya was doing here in Paris. Nikolai slipped in behind the Mafiya boss and stood a few rows behind him. The only other person in in the row was a beautiful, but sad looking young woman. He gave her a polite nod, but kept a respectful distance. She obviously didn't want to be bothered. He had the strangest thought that she looked vaguely familiar but he thought he must have just seen her around town or something of the sort. He turned his attentions back to the ahead of him, watching discreetly.
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Post by plantnerd92 on Jun 29, 2013 20:19:43 GMT -6
Sasha Ivanova
She watched with quiet eyes as the new man came to stand in the row for mass, giving her a polite nod. She noticed how he took his place, focusing on one of the Mafiya's leaders standing a few rows up from him. She watched discreetly, having been under the Mafiya's thumb to discern what intentions were there. This man was no friend to the mobster. She watched for a while, gathering intel, everything she new about the mobster, Svyatopolk Gorbechev. He was a frequent client. And he always paid extra for her, because he considered it offensive to spend the night with cheap wh*re. Not that she benefited much from it. Igor and Uri were the ones to cash in on exploiting her. Occasionally, she was given a small tip, but she mainly used that to go buy substances to abuse and get so f*cking high, she had no idea what was happening to her.
After a while, she slowly approached the man, cautiously, mind you, but she was hoping he wouldn't act out or something in Church. She stood next to him. Sasha was really hoping this stranger was no friend to Gorbachev. If she could take out even one of the b**tards out vicariously, she'd have a fulfillment of justice. It would never be enough, but it was a start.
She spoke softly, so softly one could almost not even hear her, and she spoke in Russian.
"Etot chelovek, Gorbachev. Vy tovarishch?" she asked, wondering if he even understood her. She didn't know French, and her English was garbled. If he couldn't, well the conversation was pretty much screwed.
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Post by blueeyeddevil on Jun 29, 2013 20:53:55 GMT -6
Nikolai Tarsova
He watched Gorbachev, discreet but intent. Apparently he was being discreet enough. He seemed to have caught the attention of the young woman in his row. She came to stand beside him and he mentally cursed himself, wondering if she was involved with one of the Mafiya and that was why she seemed familiar. In that case, it could easily be one of the stupid decisions he'd ever made to go and stand in the woman's row. Garduna help or no, he could easily be dead before the next Mass started if she knew who he was.
"Etot chelovek, Gorbachev. Vy tovarishch?" she asked in a very quiet voice, asking if he was a friend of the mobster he'd been spying on.
He relaxed a little...maybe the situation wasn't as bad as he'd been thinking. He decided it was safest to play dumb. Seychas na Gorbachev?" he asked in the same whisper of a tone she'd been using before. But suddenly he was curious as to how she knew Gorbachev's name. He thought he might as well do a little investigating of his own. "Yavlyayetsya li eto Gorbachevtvoy drug?" he asked.
Tanslations: Who is Gorbachev? Is this Gorbachev a friend of yours?
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Post by plantnerd92 on Jun 29, 2013 21:24:51 GMT -6
Sasha Ivanova
Sasha watched the man stiffen slightly at her approach, but she offered no aggression. She didn't quite believe his attempt at playing dumb, but she still felt a little disappointed at his reply.
"Yavlyayetsya li eto Gorbachevtvoy drug?" he asked, and she made a face, her exotic blue eyes flashing with a surprising amount of vehemence.
"Nyet!" she hissed quickly... probably making a mistake at her denial, but she wanted to have no association or positive affiliation with the Mafiya scum.
Unfortunately, she did not go unnoticed by a stout woman with dirty blonde hair standing some distance from her domineering husband, ever the second-class citizen. Sasha inwardly cringed. Gorbachev's wife. The woman's voice was shrill as she practically blurted out Sasha's presence for all of Mass to hear.
"Vy! Vy i vash vid ne mesto zdes', vy gryaznaya shlyukha! Vyydite iz mashiny i vernut'sya na ulitsy Ad, gde tvoye mesto!" She spat, several worshippers turning their heads to look at Sasha the Prostitute with hateful glances.
So much for solace.
Sasha ducked her head, wishing she could disappear as she turned and pushed through the crowds, several other jealous, angry women hitting her and pulling her hair as she barreled her way to the doors, and ran outside.
Once she got out and caught her breath, anger coursed through her. Was this the way God would treat people like her? She was so vile she didn't even belong anywhere near a church to worship her creator? Well fine! She wanted no part of it! If He would turn his back on her, than she wouldn't bother with Him. She spat on the ground in front of the ornate cathedral, and picked up a pine cone (It was the closest thing she could find) and chucked it at the wall, wishing it would do more damage than it was capable of. Maybe she should get some eggs or something, and get arrested for vandalism of the Church. That would at least get her away from Igor and Uri for a short while.
With nowhere else to go, she tried combing her fingers through her dark, disheveled hair as she wandered aimlessly, not wanting to go back to her handlers. They'd find her eventually: they always did, but she wanted to prolong the inevitable for as long as she could.
(Translation: ("You! You and your kind have no place here, you filthy wh*re! Get out and go back to the streets of Hell where you belong!")
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Post by blueeyeddevil on Jun 29, 2013 22:17:11 GMT -6
Nikolai Tarasova
Alarms sounded in his head at the girl's vehement denial of being involved with Gorbachev, even as friends. She'd hissed it loud enough that it caught the attention of some people around them, including a heavier set blond woman.
"Vy! Vy i vash vid ne mesto zdes', vy gryaznaya shlyukha! Vyydite iz mashiny i vernut'sya na ulitsy Ad, gde tvoye mesto!" she spat at the younger woman. Several others started hitting her and pulling her hair. Nikolai found himself rather disgusted by the behavior of of these so called believers. Hadn't Christ himself supposedly befriended all kinds of sinful people? At least that's what the nuns from the orphanage had always taught.
The woman was gone now but Nikolai was not liking the the fact the Gorbachev was eyeing him now. He waited until the the man's attention was back towards he front and prepared to slip out. Of course the woman (Gorbachev's wife, he realized) hissed at him as he turned to go.
"Don't let that little harlot drag you down...she'll take you for all you've got," she warned in accented english. Nikolai was more inclined to ignore her than anything else.
He made his way out to the steps of the church where he found the young woman from before. He was struck with an odd sense of sympathy for the poor girl. He wasn't quite sure what she'd supposedly done to deserve the scene in the church, but he was sorry for the way she'd been treated. He slowly cleared his throat, announcing his presence.
"Eto bylo dovol'no zhestokiye tam..." he noted, coming to sit down on the steps, eyes meeting her rather pretty blue gaze.
Translation: "That was quite brutal in there..."
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Post by plantnerd92 on Jun 29, 2013 22:53:33 GMT -6
Sasha Ivanova
"Eto bylo dovol'no zhestokiye tam..."
Sasha could have sworn she jumped a mile high with how startled she was by the man's voice, still soft, gentle, but no longer a whisper. She accidentally yanked her hair pretty hard when her hand moved to fly to her chest, but was still tangled in her dark tresses. Sasha scowled, and spat on the ground again hatefully.
"Kucha nichego khoroshego, litsemernyye der'mo," she muttered spitefully. "YA by mnogo, a v adu, chem byt' zastryal s nimi na nebesakh."
What surprised her most, was how much she wanted them all dead. If she had the means, she'd probably pull the trigger on Gorbachev herself, like putting a mad dog out of its miserable life. She turns, and meets the man's deep mahogany gaze, feeling a little bit like gelatin in the knee and gut area.
"Pochemu vy za mnoy?" she asked warily. There was something oddly familiar about him, and she wasn't sure if it was attractive or not.
Translation: A bunch of no good, hypocritical sh*ts... I'd rather rot in Hell than be stuck in Heaven with them... Why did you follow me?
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Post by blueeyeddevil on Jun 29, 2013 23:38:34 GMT -6
Nikolai Tarasova
Nikolai didn't miss the way she had jumped at the sound of his voice, probably expecting him to be there to chew her out like the others in the church. He hoped his words would calm her down a bit. She wasn't calmed down if the way she spat at the ground was any indicator but she wasn't angry with him it seemed.
"Kucha nichego khoroshego, litsemernyye der'mo. YA by mnogo, a v adu, chem byt' zastryal s nimi na nebesakh." she muttered heatedly.
Nikolai laughed quietly and shook his head. "Pover' mne. YA somnevayus', chto oni budut idti na nebesa." he assured her.
She looked at him warily now. "Pochemu vy za mnoy?" she asked. It was a fair question. Why had he followed her out? The main thing had been to get away from Gorbachev (not that he could really share that with her) but that didn't take into account why he was stopping to talk to her now.
"YA ne khotel, chtoby zastryat's temi libo litsemery," he said with a casual shrug. "I posmotret', yesli vy byli v poryadke...ty?"
Translation: "Trust me. I doubt they are going to heaven." "I didn't want to be stuck with those hypocrites either. And to see if you were alright...are you?"
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Post by plantnerd92 on Jun 30, 2013 21:21:56 GMT -6
Sasha Ivanova
""YA ne khotel, chtoby zastryat's temi libo litsemery," he said with a casual shrug. "I posmotret', yesli vy byli v poryadke...ty?"
Sasha watched him cautiously, before flipping out a menthol cigarette, needing something to calm her agitation. Lighting it up and taking a drag, she let the acrid smoke cool and tar her lungs, the nicotine entering her bloodstream and soothing her. Sadly, menthols would soon be banned in Europe, so she would enjoy them while she still could.
"Da. Tak khorosho, kak ya sposoben bytiya." That wasn't really saying much. She was never all right. "YA budu luchshe posle togo, kak krepkiy napitok , no pochemu vy dolzhny zabotit'sya?" she asked, letting out a plume of smoke from her full lips.
Sasha turned to study the man, not abashed whatsoever by her intent gaze on him. There was something oddly familiar about him. He was handsome, that was for sure, with his angular features and muscled, tattooed arms. She hated her body's reaction, but the way her stomach clenched was undeniably a sign of attraction. Her eyes wandered, discreetly lingering on places that they shouldn't. Damn her, she really was a filthy harlot.
Her mind wandered slightly. What would she do if he bought her for a night? Would she enjoy it? She hadn't enjoyed her time at all with previous clients. Would she shiver with longing at his touch? Would he be a gentle lover, or a cruel one? What the Hell was she doing?! Why was she thinking about this? With some amount of difficulty, she pushed the thoughts of him gloriously naked out of her head. She did not want to think about this evil. It was bad enough she was forced into it as it was. She did not want to eagerly participate!
Still, she couldn't shake the feeling that she'd seen him somewhere before, and for some reason, that feeling made her stomach tie itself into knots with strange apprehension.
Translation: "Yes. I'm as fine as I am capable of being." "I'll be better after a stiff drink, but why should you care?"
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Post by blueeyeddevil on Jul 11, 2013 0:47:41 GMT -6
Nikolai Tarasova
Nikolai knew that the Mass was ending soon and Gorbachev would coming out of the church. He really should be leaving rather than stick around to get his cover blown. But for whatever reason he found himself very interested by the young woman he was talking to now. She was very beautiful with long dark hair and dazzling blue eyes. He attributed his continued presence to that fact. It had nothing to do with the strange sense of familiarity about her. He was certain he'd remember someone like her.
"Da. Tak khorosho, kak ya sposoben bytiya." she replied. "YA budu luchshe posle togo, kak krepkiy napitok , no pochemu vy dolzhny zabotit'sya?"
His gaze fell to her full and sensual lips as she let out a puff of smoke. Nikolai had never been a smoker. He'd never done any drugs. The Mafiya, while supplying drugs of all kinds, looked down on use of it among their members. But even still, the idea of it had never appealed to him. But somehow she made the cigarette seem alluring.
His mahogany eyes met her gaze steadily and unyielding as he prepared to answer her question. What did he care about some girl he'd never met getting run out of a church?
"Vy yavlyayetes' chelovekom. Vy ne zasluzhivayut togo, chtoby rassmatrivat'sya kak etot." he told her. He shrugged again and turned to head down the steps. "YA ostavlyu khotya, yesli vy by luchshe sami. No chuvstvovat' sebya priyti segodnya vecherom Le Silencieux yesli vy vse yeshche khotite, chto napitok."
He gave her a small smile and a nod before turning and going down the steps, feeling rather confident he'd see her at the bar at some point tonight.
Translation: "You are a human being. You don't deserve to be treated like that.""I will leave though if you'd rather be by yourself. But feel free to come by Le Silencieux tonight if you'd still like that drink."
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