Re: Mean-Eyed Cat: Isaiah / Cat
She understood the German, but the other languages were lost to her, and she stuck to Russian. Because right then, in that moment, she was Russian. She was the little girl raised by the mob, and she was the woman's whose entire world was blood on snowy embankments. Perhaps it was a sign that she'd been wound too tightly recently, this break, this disassociation, but Cat couldn't tell. No, she spoke in Russian. "Don't come here and yell at me. I didn't force this on you. I'm just a pawn. I've been a pawn all my life."
And in English, as he turned. "Get out." She pulled the trigger, a warning shot that landed between his thighs, perfect aim and one inch in either direction? Well. The bullet embedded in the door, and Cat? Cat figured she'd made her point.
She locked the doors behind him. The bar was closed for the evening.