Ksenia & Bryan
Where exactly Ksenia thought she was going wasn't entirely clear to her. Mostly she was just fleeing the crush of bodies and the loud noises and everything that felt like it was closing in on her. Air, air would help, but she wasn't entirely sure where that would be. As someone tried to grab her right before the door, she automatically threw a hand up to stop them, accidentally activating her nightmare powers and the person was suddenly swatting at themselves, at imaginary spiders, but the nocnitsa had burst out of the door and looked around wildly for an escape route. The cool air of L.A. did little to stop her racing mind, but felt cooling a little grounding on her heated damp skin as she tried to determine which way was AWAY from people, as someone else laid a hand on her arm and her head turned, eyes flashing and the larger man was suddenly backing away from her, afraid of however her powers made him view her. The drunk nocnitsa wasn't really trying to use her powers, it was just an automatic self defense mechanism she had little real control over in her current state.
Later she would wonder what it was about the Korean American shifter that made him immune to the run off of her powers as he stepped in front of her from a side exit she hadn't seen there and she held her hands up, still speaking in Russian.
"Please don't, I don't want to hurt you," she pleaded, not even registering that he would not be able to understand her warning in her native tongue. But the lion ignored her warnings, grabbing her around the waist and dragged her back into the club, into the suffocating noises and flashing lights and all the people. She was still struggling, but it was half hearted, and any one who saw them, ignored the lion pretty much manhandling the babbling, clearly upset Russian woman.
Once inside the more private room, Bryan put himself between the panicking woman and the only door, leaning against it as he focused his eyes on her, telling her to breath, as he showed her how to do exactly what he was telling her to. Wild blue eyes focused on his face and she tried to mimic him, drawing in a shaking breath and letting it out too fast, before trying it again and abandoning the exercise, to pace away from him, her blue eyes bouncing around the room, as if she was afraid that he would appear here too. But he didn't. And once she realized that the thing she was fleeing from hadn't appeared here too, she seemed to calm down a little.
"This wasn't supposed to happen anymore," she muttered, still in Russian. A glance at Bryan's face and the fact that he clearly had NO IDEA what on earth she was talking about or saying made her realize she was not speaking English like she thought she was.
"I can't go back out there," she said clearly in English. "This wasn't supposed to happen in America." She ran her hands through her tangled golden hair as she paced. "This wasn't supposed to happen in America." She repeated this, clearly holding onto that thought like it was a life line. One that wasn't working. She had seen him. Just as vividly as she had before, in Russia. She stopped pacing to close her eyes and hold her hands to her face, as if trying to block out whatever it was she had been seeing, but even when she closed her eyes, she could still see it so vividly. Feel the blood splashing down on her. And that was when the tears started, rolling down her cheeks, behind her fingers clutched to her face as she sank to the floor, softly sobbing.
Dropping her hands from her face, she looked up at Bryan's concerned face as he approached her. "I'm so tired of feeling like this," she said softly, even though he had literally no context for her statements. "I don't want to feel this anymore. I don't want to see him anymore."