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Walkin' down the my street
#5
After shoving in the frozen stuff, he paused, then looked back at the table. Ah well. Not like it would be that hard. Not like he hadn't helped him mom do this a million times. He pulled another bag and got stuff out, poked around in cupboards and what-not.

Somehow, he managed to get most of it away, then noticed the freezer hadn't closed properly. God he hated when that happened. When were they going to put magnetic latches on freezers? He opened it again and shoved the frozen stuff in more tightly, the icy scratch irritating his ears so he didn't hear the door open.

A voice cut through the room and he turned his head to look at the girl who walked in. Hot even with the ice shooting out of those stone cold blue eyes. Blood on her lip and bruises on her face. That sure tightened his gaze, I'll tell you what.

He was all about having fun, sure. And life was a game, true. But that....nah, man, that was something you didn't do. If you fought someone, if you were gonna beat someone, it should be fair. Mostly. As much as it could be anyway, Not like those goons downstairs could channel. But they were picking on a lonely lady coming home from shopping- and there were like 3 or 4 of them, so he figured the odds had been fair. Assholes.

And she was defensive of her mama. He got that. He chuckled as he shut the freezer and sat down, stretching out his long legs and looked at her with a raised eyebrow and a friendly smile. "Yeah, I doubt the street thugs would be all that scary if, after roughing up tenants, they helped them carry up their groceries and put them away."


Idly, he pulled out his lighter, seized the power and felt the room grow bright. The sounds of outside seemed louder through the now open window, as did the breathing of the two women, the girl in particular. He could see the bruises and busted lip more clearly, didn't notice his lip curl up in a snarl. "Some punks were bothering your mom..."
and even as he spoke, the fire called to him and he couldn't help but flick the lighter, watch the flame, make it dance and follow his fingers as he trailed them around it "...and they needed to learn a lesson or three."


His eyes flicked back up to hers. Be nice if she'd actually smile. "I'm Mikhail Sergeyev. Of the nobody Sergeyevs."


"Good and ill. 
We're like the wind, 
we blows both ways."
- Mad Sweeney, American Gods
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Messages In This Thread
[No subject] - by Mikhail - 01-27-2018, 12:12 AM
[No subject] - by Oriena - 01-28-2018, 05:35 PM
[No subject] - by Mikhail - 01-28-2018, 10:05 PM
[No subject] - by Oriena - 01-29-2018, 08:59 AM
[No subject] - by Mikhail - 01-29-2018, 12:50 PM
[No subject] - by Oriena - 01-30-2018, 02:28 PM
[No subject] - by Mikhail - 01-30-2018, 04:46 PM
[No subject] - by Oriena - 02-01-2018, 04:27 AM
[No subject] - by Mikhail - 02-01-2018, 10:22 AM
[No subject] - by Oriena - 02-01-2018, 05:18 PM
[No subject] - by Mikhail - 02-01-2018, 06:25 PM
[No subject] - by Oriena - 02-03-2018, 02:29 PM
[No subject] - by Mikhail - 02-03-2018, 09:41 PM
[No subject] - by Oriena - 02-05-2018, 05:43 PM

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