02-07-2018, 08:09 PM
Mik listened to her, savored that wicked smile, the one with no warmth. Well, not any kind of warmth of concern and shit. It would never be used to lift up someone's spirits anyway. A different warmth, though, one he recognized. The curve of lips that might- might - kiss. (Be damn nice, too.) But might bite also. Draw blood. Likely both, one flashing to the other in a heartbeat. Something he'd get around to trying some time.
He had been right about her, though, up at the apartment. What he'd seen in her eyes. And he didn't forget she could channel either, for all he couldn't feel anything. His smirk become a slow smile and his eyes lidded. Heh. His voice dropped to a low, deep whisper, the kind one might use on a lover and he leaned in a little closer to her- felt the heat of her that seemed to radiate from her eyes. "Yeah, doll, I kinda figured."
After a moment, he turned and focused attention on the table. He nodded to the bigger of the two. "Stanislav. A Kolomov. Sure you already know. Vendetta with Mordvinov. Unofficial one with Stoya, on account of their alliance."
He didn't add that he was mostly responsible for that little row. Not so little now. Quite a number of years ago. His first real foray into the game. Roman Mordvinov had almost died. Hadn't mattered either way. The chaos was the goal.
Well, not the only one. He wasn't going to lie. He had beef with Kolomov. Big time. The continuing violence and shrinking of Kolomov was like a gift of the month club, or something. Every so often, like a package in the mail, he'd enjoy a little treat. And it was sooo good.
He continued. "Kolomov is struggling. Trying to survive. Already everyone can smell the blood in the water. They've lost many top guys. Some defected. Some ran. Others....well, they had too many beefs against them. Kinda disappeared."
He took the bottle Gus had put down and poured another drink for himself, held it out to Oriena. He hadn't realized he'd downed the first one. He did enjoy the warmth that filled him. He glanced at her. He knew she was listening no matter what was on her face.
He looked back at the one he'd pointed out, kept his voice low. "Believe it or not, mook like that's one of their top guys now. That's alive anyway. And tonight is their last shot. He's meeting with some of the Yakuza. If he can give them what they want, a reason for an alliance, Kolomov will survive. If not,..."
he trailed off with a grin.
A grin he held for a lot of reasons, actually. He was no fool. Nope. No rules. "Well....you can guess what will happen if they can't. It's too bad Stanislav is such a hot head. Damn, but he hates losing. And when he loses, he drinks. And when he drinks he loses. Really a shame he's the guy who is gonna meet with those honor obsessed fools they need so badly. So...."
He pulled the lighter from his red leather jacket and watched from a distance. Everything became sharper as he seized the power, as if he'd gotten closer. The big man was about to take his shot when Mik struck. Not hard. A little bump on the cue. The shot went wide. He definitely did not laugh out loud. The cursing from the table was loud enough to cover, but there was no point in ruining their fun. White had gone right into the pocket. Scratch.
He flashed her a grin and flicked an eyebrow at her.
((Slight edit: I had forgotten which family I had been setting up to fall. Kolomov, not Stoya. Writing the new OC thread reminded me.))
Edited by Mikhail, Feb 9 2018, 07:09 PM.
He had been right about her, though, up at the apartment. What he'd seen in her eyes. And he didn't forget she could channel either, for all he couldn't feel anything. His smirk become a slow smile and his eyes lidded. Heh. His voice dropped to a low, deep whisper, the kind one might use on a lover and he leaned in a little closer to her- felt the heat of her that seemed to radiate from her eyes. "Yeah, doll, I kinda figured."
After a moment, he turned and focused attention on the table. He nodded to the bigger of the two. "Stanislav. A Kolomov. Sure you already know. Vendetta with Mordvinov. Unofficial one with Stoya, on account of their alliance."
He didn't add that he was mostly responsible for that little row. Not so little now. Quite a number of years ago. His first real foray into the game. Roman Mordvinov had almost died. Hadn't mattered either way. The chaos was the goal.
Well, not the only one. He wasn't going to lie. He had beef with Kolomov. Big time. The continuing violence and shrinking of Kolomov was like a gift of the month club, or something. Every so often, like a package in the mail, he'd enjoy a little treat. And it was sooo good.
He continued. "Kolomov is struggling. Trying to survive. Already everyone can smell the blood in the water. They've lost many top guys. Some defected. Some ran. Others....well, they had too many beefs against them. Kinda disappeared."
He took the bottle Gus had put down and poured another drink for himself, held it out to Oriena. He hadn't realized he'd downed the first one. He did enjoy the warmth that filled him. He glanced at her. He knew she was listening no matter what was on her face.
He looked back at the one he'd pointed out, kept his voice low. "Believe it or not, mook like that's one of their top guys now. That's alive anyway. And tonight is their last shot. He's meeting with some of the Yakuza. If he can give them what they want, a reason for an alliance, Kolomov will survive. If not,..."
he trailed off with a grin.
A grin he held for a lot of reasons, actually. He was no fool. Nope. No rules. "Well....you can guess what will happen if they can't. It's too bad Stanislav is such a hot head. Damn, but he hates losing. And when he loses, he drinks. And when he drinks he loses. Really a shame he's the guy who is gonna meet with those honor obsessed fools they need so badly. So...."
He pulled the lighter from his red leather jacket and watched from a distance. Everything became sharper as he seized the power, as if he'd gotten closer. The big man was about to take his shot when Mik struck. Not hard. A little bump on the cue. The shot went wide. He definitely did not laugh out loud. The cursing from the table was loud enough to cover, but there was no point in ruining their fun. White had gone right into the pocket. Scratch.
He flashed her a grin and flicked an eyebrow at her.
((Slight edit: I had forgotten which family I had been setting up to fall. Kolomov, not Stoya. Writing the new OC thread reminded me.))
Edited by Mikhail, Feb 9 2018, 07:09 PM.
"Good and ill.
We're like the wind,
we blows both ways."
- Mad Sweeney, American Gods
- Mad Sweeney, American Gods