sieve (sieve) wrote in regulation, @ 2008-04-19 11:31:00 |
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Current music: | "Hospital Beds"- Cold War Kids |
Entry tags: | yuri chekhov, zacharias smith |
Tell me the story of how you ended up here, I've heard it all in the hospital
Who: yuri chekhov, zach smith, gwawr halpen (NPC)
What: Gwawr has stopped in town overnight and Yuri doesn't know what to do with himself. Solution? Ask Zach with Gwawr in tow.
Where: London
When: April 19, late morning
Rating: PG-13 for language. Like you had to ask.
The Daimler coughed wearily to a stop across the street from the warehouse. Yuri had a faint, anxious smile- to anyone other than his passenger he would've looked simply amused, but his expressions were hardly so regular to one who knew him- that he directed out the windshield or at nothing. The woman beside him was leaning forward, her head over she dashboard as she tried to get a look at their destination. "Here? Zach lives here?"
"Yeah," Yuri said, unbuckling his seatbelt smoothly. All of his movements were much more carefully executed than normal. "Where else are you going to put a furnace?"
"Think he'll let me see his stuff?" Gwawr's legs were crossed, her knees against the glove box. They were bare, her shoes abandoned on the floor. When she opened the car door and looked out, the ground covered with refuse and broken glass, she put them on with reluctance.
"I don't know." Yuri said. He doesn't let me see his glass most of the time.
How many hours had they been together? Yuri glanced at his watch and saw that it was nearly eleven. Three hours- it had seemed like weeks, slow and painful, but at least the awkward stage had passed. On his part. She had just waltzed in and tossed her stuff in the middle of his sitting room- in the rectory. Thankfully, the priests rarely bothered their cleaning man. It wasn't like they were going to be fucking like rabbits and making a lot of racket unless they started screaming at one another.
That, too, was unlikely he thought as he crossed the street and knocked on the door three times with his foot. (Normally he didn't knock.) When they fought, it was with silence, or in the most deadly whispers a soul had ever heard.