06-26-2014, 12:11 AM
Ivan listened to The Zoya Show but was unsure of how to take it. On the one hand, her retelling was a sharp blend of humor, wry observation and wit. But the funniest part was all of the that was run through the filter of what was clearly a healthy dose of alcohol, as she giggled her way through the story, only messing up her words at the end. But on the other hand, once you got passed the way she told the tale, the story itself was another matter entirely.
Ivan was perplexed. The fear he'd felt finally left him, and with it the power. The room and everyone in it- particularly Zoya, more's the pity- reverted back to normalcy in his perceptions. But for the most part, his clarity remained. Now that he wasn't flooded with power and could compare, he saw that he was still ok on the how-hammered-am-I scale.
But what puzzled him was her tale. He'd been a cop long enough to learn to tell the difference between people who were telling the truth and those who weren't. Oh, folks had all kinds of reason why they might exaggerate or lie. Neighbor pissed them off. Seeking attention. Then too there were those who were delusional or had just burned out too many brain cells huffing glue or something. Like the guy who'd confided to him that he was an alien who'd been sent to observe whether or not humanity was ready for their revealing. Or the woman who thought herself a wolf and had nearly bitten him.
He knew crazy and he knew liars and he knew fools. Thing is Zoya didn't give off any of those vibes, even though she was drunk. He supposed that just could mean that she was split-personality or something. Or even that his own judgement was off because she was hot. The Hot-Crazy scale was a thing, after all. And that much hotness allowed for a much higher level of crazy before it became a deal breaker.
But he just didn't think so. He didn't get that vibe from her. And his instincts were good. Even now, without the heightened observational skills from the power, he sized up White pretty well.
For starters, it was clear that wasn't the man's name. Pretty generic, really. Sure, there were Whites and Byehliy's around, but adding that to the rest of made it obvious. When he had reached for the newly refilled Stein, his jacket shifted and Ivan caught the glint of black steel. He was packing. And yet from Zoya's account, he had taken on 3 or 4 guys and used mostly his hands before swiping one of the blades. That was operational training right there. Military, special ops, something like that. He hung out in this shit-hole and looked as if the salvation army was out looking for donations and he didn't have 2 fucks to give. Everything was a game to him, one big contest. Women, fights, whatever. He didn't care.
He trusted his read on people. But monsters in a old building? He was still trying to figure it out and so almost missed "White's" comments on the cuffs. He smiled at the words but didn't respond. While there had been some obvious flirting- first from him and later from the both of them that one time- it wasn't like they were a thing or that he expected them to be. Sure, if it happened- if she wasn't too crazy, he amended, laughing to himself- then that'd be cool. But if it didn't, no big deal really.
What was more important was what had happened to Zoya. Because what she said tickled the back of his mind. He was reminded of how Ascendancy had known what had happened to him in that crack house- the miraculous luck that had saved his partner. Ascendancy hadn't mentioned that there were women among those who could use the power. But he doubted that the man would tell him anything but what he needed to know. Ivan knew himself well enough to know that he wasn't any great shakes as a deep thinker, not when it came to stuff like that. He did his job and took care of the people under his care. Simple as that. And when more would be given to him to take care of, he do that too. That was enough for him.
So what to do? Clearly, Zoya- for whatever reason- was looking to forget what had happened. He didn't mind, now that she was in no danger. And maybe when she sobered up he could ask her some questions. But in the meantime.... "Well Zoya, what do you want to do? You look like you've gotten yourself on a good start to forget-me-town. You feel better?"
An idea entered his mind. "You feel like going out and doing something? Dancing? There's some pretty nice places downtown- even old school stuff like swing or cumbia. Karaoke?...Hell, we could toilet paper the Kremlin!"
A wink.
He looked at 'White' and grinned. "What about you...'pops'."
He said the word exaggeratedly, to let him know he was joking. "If you don't need to head home for bed."
Then a wicked thought entered his mind and he said it before he thought much more about it. "If you want, I can get Igor to get you a nice bowl of soup before you go bedy-bye. They make a mean Borsht, even if their beer tastes like shit."
His grin stayed on his face as he watched the man.
Edited by Ivan Sarkozy, Jun 26 2014, 10:48 AM.
Ivan was perplexed. The fear he'd felt finally left him, and with it the power. The room and everyone in it- particularly Zoya, more's the pity- reverted back to normalcy in his perceptions. But for the most part, his clarity remained. Now that he wasn't flooded with power and could compare, he saw that he was still ok on the how-hammered-am-I scale.
But what puzzled him was her tale. He'd been a cop long enough to learn to tell the difference between people who were telling the truth and those who weren't. Oh, folks had all kinds of reason why they might exaggerate or lie. Neighbor pissed them off. Seeking attention. Then too there were those who were delusional or had just burned out too many brain cells huffing glue or something. Like the guy who'd confided to him that he was an alien who'd been sent to observe whether or not humanity was ready for their revealing. Or the woman who thought herself a wolf and had nearly bitten him.
He knew crazy and he knew liars and he knew fools. Thing is Zoya didn't give off any of those vibes, even though she was drunk. He supposed that just could mean that she was split-personality or something. Or even that his own judgement was off because she was hot. The Hot-Crazy scale was a thing, after all. And that much hotness allowed for a much higher level of crazy before it became a deal breaker.
But he just didn't think so. He didn't get that vibe from her. And his instincts were good. Even now, without the heightened observational skills from the power, he sized up White pretty well.
For starters, it was clear that wasn't the man's name. Pretty generic, really. Sure, there were Whites and Byehliy's around, but adding that to the rest of made it obvious. When he had reached for the newly refilled Stein, his jacket shifted and Ivan caught the glint of black steel. He was packing. And yet from Zoya's account, he had taken on 3 or 4 guys and used mostly his hands before swiping one of the blades. That was operational training right there. Military, special ops, something like that. He hung out in this shit-hole and looked as if the salvation army was out looking for donations and he didn't have 2 fucks to give. Everything was a game to him, one big contest. Women, fights, whatever. He didn't care.
He trusted his read on people. But monsters in a old building? He was still trying to figure it out and so almost missed "White's" comments on the cuffs. He smiled at the words but didn't respond. While there had been some obvious flirting- first from him and later from the both of them that one time- it wasn't like they were a thing or that he expected them to be. Sure, if it happened- if she wasn't too crazy, he amended, laughing to himself- then that'd be cool. But if it didn't, no big deal really.
What was more important was what had happened to Zoya. Because what she said tickled the back of his mind. He was reminded of how Ascendancy had known what had happened to him in that crack house- the miraculous luck that had saved his partner. Ascendancy hadn't mentioned that there were women among those who could use the power. But he doubted that the man would tell him anything but what he needed to know. Ivan knew himself well enough to know that he wasn't any great shakes as a deep thinker, not when it came to stuff like that. He did his job and took care of the people under his care. Simple as that. And when more would be given to him to take care of, he do that too. That was enough for him.
So what to do? Clearly, Zoya- for whatever reason- was looking to forget what had happened. He didn't mind, now that she was in no danger. And maybe when she sobered up he could ask her some questions. But in the meantime.... "Well Zoya, what do you want to do? You look like you've gotten yourself on a good start to forget-me-town. You feel better?"
An idea entered his mind. "You feel like going out and doing something? Dancing? There's some pretty nice places downtown- even old school stuff like swing or cumbia. Karaoke?...Hell, we could toilet paper the Kremlin!"
A wink.
He looked at 'White' and grinned. "What about you...'pops'."
He said the word exaggeratedly, to let him know he was joking. "If you don't need to head home for bed."
Then a wicked thought entered his mind and he said it before he thought much more about it. "If you want, I can get Igor to get you a nice bowl of soup before you go bedy-bye. They make a mean Borsht, even if their beer tastes like shit."
His grin stayed on his face as he watched the man.
Edited by Ivan Sarkozy, Jun 26 2014, 10:48 AM.