Svetlana Sergievskaya causes lyrical chess wars (thegirlisme) wrote in valarlogs, @ 2015-09-18 21:58:00 |
|
|||
Entry tags: | !complete, !partner thread, jonathan harker, svetlana sergievskaya |
Who: Jonathan and Svetlana
What: Empanadas and paranoia
When: 16 September 2015, lunch time
Where: Empanada place
Warnings: Discussion of impending vampirism and trouble with either mafia or the FSB?
Status: Partner Thread | Complete
If Svetlana had thought her paranoia was bad before? Well, it was officially at an all time high. There was a difference between a general wary disposition and growing up in a heavily policed state like the Soviet Union and being used to spies everywhere. Or feeling like you had from dreams. Then there was the difference between always being spied on but having nothing to hide and knowing that you stabbed a person (admittedly in self defence) who had ties to organised crime and a professional cleaner who could make you disappear. Svetlana was now on that third tier of paranoia and she hadn’t actually slept since she had woken up on Monday.
Part of her had been tempted to cancel meeting for lunch just because she didn’t want to inadvertently drag Jonathan into this mess. But she knew she needed to eat and it probably would have been more suspicious if she had cancelled even if she could have come up with any variety of excuses. Nor did it seem anyone she had interacted with had picked up on her current agitated state as she was good at keeping everything locked up emotionally.
She was fine. It would be fine. She just happened to be a bit early and kept an eye out for either Jonathan, or anyone suspicious.
Jonathan’s whole life was a bit messy anyway, if one could call it that - but he was a young and fresh lawyer, taking on his first big case that was sure to explode into a media frenzy thanks to the nature of it (corporate espionage, murder, shady and shadowy figures and probably throwing in a side of embezzlement too), and not only that but his very best friend was a psychic who happened to have a vision of him. As a vampire. Bitten by his partner, who was already a vampire.
Oh right, he’d quit smoking. Goddamn, did he need to smoke a pack in a dark room. Alone. With nothing but the chemicals and his own restless thoughts.
Thus, he and Svetlana could be paranoid and messy together. He had many things in common with her and found her presence to be soothing in a ship on calm water way. Lunch was something he was looking forward to - and not just because empanadas were delicious. This place was charming, it was tiny, right next door to the Russian deli they went to before - and you couldn’t go wrong with what was essentially little comfort food pies. Beef and spices and vegetables and cheese in pastry. And the dulce de leche cookies.
“Zdravstvuyte,” he greeted her in Russian (a universal greeting, good for any time of day), also a little early, meeting her as she was about to go in. His smile was warm, as it tended to be. “Kak dyela, Svetlana?” How are you was usually a loaded question around here, however.
“Zdravstvuyte,” his pronunciation was good and it was enough of a distraction that Svetlana was able to focus on the conversation at hand as they stepping into the shop for these empanadas Jonathan had told her she needed to try. Well, Svetlana was always interested in trying things and as there had been nothing suspicious in the shop, one less thing to worry about. How was she though? That was always a tricky question. Especially in Orange County. She appeared put together as always, despite the strain and looming death, she would always look put together. Never let anyone see her vulnerable. “Nu dostatochno, i sami?” Well enough, and yourself? It was all in the way things were worded with Svetlana. Double, triple, meanings could exist in a single turn of phrase.
Even so, she was honest. All things considered, she was fine. Or her definition at any rate. The work she did was emotionally draining and exhausting as well as physically. It was always easy to figure that was what was on her mind or keeping her up at night. It was easy to hide behind her work because it gave a good cover.
Really, she didn’t know what to expect or how to explain. Before it had been not knowing how to explain the situation with her family, her parents locked up for ‘suspicion’ so she hadn’t. That would be easier to explain than what had transpired not even two days ago. She didn’t even need to add Orange County insanity to the mix these days. Oh what she wouldn’t give for just annoying dreams that made trust harder but didn’t have any real implications. At least for her dreams. She knew that was sadly not the case for many.
Still. Orange County might be preferable at the moment to the blonde woman.
“It’s complicated. Things have gotten infinitely more complicated,” Jonathan admitted, in response to the question. He’d probably end up going into detail, but not before they were seated and had a spread in front of them. For now, he stuck with the glory of empanadas - the place was ‘cash only’ and had a BYOB policy which was interesting for a restaurant, but that was part of its ‘hole in the wall’ charm. And despite really needing a bite to take the edge off, he hadn’t brought any - Svetlana seemed a little classier than ‘beer for lunch.’
Before stepping up to the counter, he asked, “Do you want a variety? There’s beef and vegetables and some with criolla, some without.” It was kind of a spicy sauce - he didn’t know exactly what was in it but it was sort of like the ‘white sauce’ at Japanese places. You piled it on and kept it coming. “Then we can eat outside if you’d like. The weather’s not too boggy for once.”
“Well that sounds worrisome,” And it did. Jonathan’s dreams were of a much more complicated nature than her own, and he had a new set to contend with. Not to mention general Orange County things, when life was deemed complicated, that would immediately set warning flags that something bad was coming. And as much as a drink would be good at calming her nerves, Svetlana needed to stay focused.
“A variety might be good.” After all. Svetlana had no idea what she getting here so she didn’t have any particular choices of what she was used to or liked or what was off limits as an assault on her tastebuds. The trick of course would be to eat outside or not. Outside meant more chances of inconspicuous murder. But outside also meant less chance of people in a small restaurant overhearing strange conversations about dreams and oddities that came with them.
It was a toss up. So she quickly scanned both the restaurant as well as outside through the windows. Chairs far enough away from the path so someone would be hard pressed to get to her if they were trying with more subtle murder tactics. There was always a risk of guns but being inside wouldn’t necessarily matter in that case….
“Outside would be fine.”
That was a lot of...consideration? Jonathan lifted an eyebrow, but he didn’t inquire about any peculiarities yet. Instead, since he was a good old fashioned Victorian gentleman, he did in fact get the both of them a variety - many, many empanadas (homemade right there in the kitchen in the back, to top it all off) and he wasn’t worried about any of them going to waste. He would literally eat his weight in the things - they were a gift from the gods.
Then, order placed, he also picked up a bag of dulce de leche cookies - they were small, kind of snack-sized, and went out to the table with that and drinks. Cookies in the center to share in case Svetlana felt like nibbling, freakishly tall limbs folded down, and sunglasses slipped on - he was ready to hear about all this recent fuckery. “So,” he began. “You seem a little tense.” Not just a statement, but it was rather a prompt.
It was a lot of consideration but when one had to make sure they weren’t going to be hit with an injection of poison via an umbrella or walking stick (more like walking stick in Southern California), it was necessary. Well, when one had heightened paranoia at any rate. Even so, she did follow him outside, making sure she had a clear view of all possible directions someone might possibly come from.
And Jonathan had actually picked up on her being tense. Well, that was a first. Or she was just that over stressed and paranoid that it was actually visible for once. Which meant she wasn’t going to necessarily get out of talking about it and she wasn’t going to get answers (right away at least) on why Jonathan’s life had become more complicated. But she knew a prompt when she heard it and could read people in knowing she wasn’t getting out of it.
“It is entirely possible I had an...altercation… with someone who has both ties to the Russian mafia and Vor, as well as the FSB the other night.”
Which...still vague. And it wasn’t as if Svetlana didn’t run those types of risks in general because of her work. Still, it went to show how particular it was when it had Svetlana this on edge.
“Ah...oh?” Jonathan blinked, hand rubbing his jaw. Here was where he’d usually light up a cigarette, but alas. He only had the e-cig version, which he wasn’t even that much of a fan of - they tasted fine, like tobacco with a sweet undertone and different from the burnt variety that came with regular cigarettes (and chemicals). But the vapor they produced - the clouds were so thick, so white, it was difficult to hold a conversation when you couldn’t see the other person through your vice.
So he stuck with cookies. They kept his hands and mouth busy. He just wouldn’t eat too many - Jonathan was determined to not became a fat, quit-smoking statistic. “That sounds ominous. Are you alright? What even...prompted this?”
Yes, there really was no reaction that could be given to such news. It was just one of those..oh situations. Svetlana herself didn’t know how to respond to it and she was living it. Which explained the staying awake and being constantly on guard. Always keeping an eye out for any sort of threat.
Which was why she shrugged when he asked how she was. Because Svetlana honestly didn’t know. But what prompted it? “Inevitability?” Which.. admittedly wouldn’t make much sense. “The woman who broke into my apartment is one who has…” What was a good word to describe absolutely ruining her family? “Manipulated my brothers in the past with lasting effects. Her father is the man who used me as a pawn in my dreams though she has her own, different, set.” Which was strange. “Why now and why she was doing the work herself? I do not know, though it probably has something to do with my parents being in prison. She panicked, I defended myself and ended up stabbing her.”
That was the most simple way to explain a not so simple situation.
Incredibly confusing. Jonathan was an intelligent person though, uncommonly clever, so he was certain he at least got the gist. This woman was bad news, seemed to be the main message anyway. “She panicked? That seems unusual,” he noted. Must have indicated some kind of weakness on her end - if you knew your espionage that well, you likely weren’t one to crack under pressure. He also wasn’t surprised to hear that Svetlana stabbed her. Anyone would have defended themselves, in that situation.
“Maybe you shouldn’t be alone for a bit,” he suggested, straw poking into his soda. “I mean, buddy system when you go out and...you could stay with a friend or something, perhaps? You’re always welcome at my place if you need to lay low for awhile.” It was very doubtful that this woman would give up. What it did sound like was opening a whole can of worms.
Seeing Stahma panic had been quite unsettling in its own way, not that Svetlana had been focusing on that or analysing at the time. It was only after the shock had worn off that she had put much mind to it. In the midst of the entire situation, she had been more shocked and frustrated. Stahma Tarr did not panic. Not usually. That panic had worked out for Svetlana as there had been openings despite the bumps and bruises she had received herself in the altercation.
“Most likely.” Which was hard for Svetlana to admit. She prided herself on being able to fend for herself. She knew that she couldn’t go to Dmitri as he would be the obvious place to look. Besides, Stahma had done enough to him to last a lifetime and he carried that weight on him all these years later. She couldn’t put him in the crosshairs like that. She couldn’t put anyone in them. But there were friends she might be able to stay with. Switch the routine, never stay one place too long. Because Stahma wouldn’t give up, she’d been playing this game for nearly twenty years, though it had always been manipulation before. “Thank you…” Sighing, she took a sip of her drink before turning her gaze to Jonathan, “What is this about your life becoming complicated?” They both knew that when it became of note in Orange County, it was something of note.
“Of course, anytime. Spare room’s yours when you need it. As long as you don’t mind a Rottweiler puppy in your business sometimes.” Jonathan knew that Svetlana would do the same for him, if asked, and he didn’t have any issues with helping out a friend - the situation sounded rough anyway. Seemed like there was always something going on, dream-related or not.
His issues, however, were definitely dream-related. Well. Mostly. He assumed that the next turn of events, whatever they may be, would be due to the rather annoying bleed-over effect that seemed to be a part of their lives everytime they turned around. Fresh and hot empanadas were delivered, the scent of them enticing and spicy wafting up into his senses, and he would let Svetlana pick out the mini comfort food pies she wanted before continuing.
“It’s...” Fingers rubbed at his forehead, in a bit of a nervous gesture. “One of my good friends, she gets these visions sometimes. Of the future. They can be actual visions or sometimes they’re even just creepy-crawly feelings about what’s coming up, but so far all of them have had a semblance of truth to them. They ended up actually happening.”
He sighed, green eyes squinting behind his sunglasses as he cut into beef pastry. “She saw me as...a creature of the night, shall we say? Undead, if we’re getting technical.”
There really was always something going on in Orange County. How it managed to keep people in the area was beyond Svetlana. Nor did she have any room to actually talk as well, she was still there as well. True it was because of her job though she could have always looked into transferring to a different city. But no. She remained. “I think I’d survive.” But she would do the same, so it all worked out.
Arrival of empanadas and Svetlana chose some to partake in as Jonathan filled her in on his own complications in life as of late. Friends able to have visions? Not so unusual. Not here. So that was met with a small nod. Though then he was saying she saw him as a creature of the night or undead, and knowing her literature it was easy enough to deduce just what he meant by that.
“Well, complicated is certainly one way of putting it. I’m sorry.” Because really, while it would be good to know that ahead of time instead of just...waking up as such, there then of course was how do you plan anyway, how to change your routine and the apprehension and just waiting for something to happen you had no control over.
He wasn’t even certain how it came about, was the thing. That’s what drove Jonathan mad with concern and worry - and he knew it wasn’t much easier on Vlad’s end either. “She saw me taking the bite, I suppose is a way to put it?” he said, fingers twitching with want for a cigarette. No. Good thing he didn’t have any on him right now. “I’ve had the conversation with Vlad before, about his immortality and my very human mortality - but he was very against me becoming like him. I understand why, of course.”
Or he did now. Before, when they weren’t connected via a strange otherworldly telepathy that came about by mixing blood (which had occurred during the week of insane anger), he hadn’t really grasped what everything meant for a vampire like Vlad. But he had a better understanding now.
“But now, it seems like he’s going to be the one to...deliver the bite. It’s difficult to picture. Difficult to accept.”
This was well beyond Svetlana’s area of expertise, though she doubted many had such skills in these matters regardless of their dreams and where they lived. All she could do was listen as Jonathan spoke and support him. Sometimes that was all anyone could do, no matter how used they were to finding ways to take action, to help or fix a situation.
“I can only imagine.” For the both of them it sounded like. Jonathan had mentioned that Vlad was against the idea when they had discussed it. The notion of human mortality and immortality, what that would entail. From what she had seen, depending on world, vampires were different. There was no real way to set a rule book when there were so many variations involved.
“It does sound that way, though you have the support of your friends regardless.” If it was to be, that was apparently going to be the end of it, whether they liked it or not. The next trick was finding some sort of way to come to terms with it, which admittedly tended to be the more difficult task at hand.
“I’m glad to hear it,” he smiled wanly, though he really was grateful. It was actually a huge relief, something else he didn’t have to worry about and be saddled with - his close friends would believe that he could overcome and endure, that he wouldn’t lose himself entirely to a very familiar monster that would take up residence within him. One that was comprised of nothing but darkness, a hunger that was old and dangerous - he would struggle and wage an internal battle with the humanity that he always hoped to still keep a firm grasp on. Knowing that people were determined to help him never lose it, that was very, very important.
He chuckled a little roughly. “So you’ll still want to be friends? Even with my potential vampirism on the horizon?”
“Only if you want to remain friends with my current mafia and FSB situation brewing as we speak.” It was a joke, but it was also truth. They both had a bunch of things that would scare most people away. Too much to handle and things of that nature. But when someone was friends, true friends, things like that wouldn’t matter. “Besides, I have been informed that I am a good moral compass for when it gets hard to see choices.”
Perhaps oddly phrased, then again, English wasn’t her first language, or even second. But she remained a moral compass for Helena, for which she took seriously.
Mafia and FSB situation? Yes, that sounded complicated too. But when wasn’t it, really? Still, the way at which they were discussing the heavy topics and the inevitability of some things, if you couldn’t find the dark humor in it you were probably doomed anyway.
“I think I can handle it,” Jonathan promised. And sealed with a pastry.