04-13-2018, 05:03 PM
Mik's eyes swept the bar as if looking for someone. Kat was doing her thing, visiting tables, supposedly just another waitress, though in a bar where the men- at least the regulars- knew better than to let their hands wander. Innocent and all, but soon enough she was taking the left-over glasses and remnants of whatever bar food had been eaten there from the table next to Scarface and the Spider.
Most people ignored servers. Really, they ignored anyone that they didn’t consider important. A useful cover, that. It was the one Mik used the most.
In the meantime, he watched whatever else was going on. Stone face here was just sipping at his drink all super dangerous like. It was the small sips. The calculation. Mik wanted to laugh at it all. The Dangerous Sipper. Oriena was still outside. She’d come back. Or not. Either way, no biggie. When one thing fell through, there was usually another.
Like over at the pool table. God, Stanislav was so fucking stupid. I mean, yeah, he had depended on it, tonight, for the fun he had in mind. Had expected it. But even so, watching it was something else. It was like, seriously? With everything on the line, and a Yakuza boss there in person – the older ones, mind, who rose through the ranks by being willing to be incredibly brutal- including cutting off their own fucking fingers if dishonored. Not to mention his younger guard dogs just looking like they were itching to cut his head off with great relish, eyes shooting daggers.
He could not have planned this any better.
And then he almost laughed out loud. The Yakuza just dismissed them as if they were nothing. Walked away just like that, as if they were homeless beggars who smelled like shit and piss and sweat and dirt. He did laugh softly, but said nothing to Dangerous Sipper there. They made their way to Scarface’s now empty table. Yun had left. Just a meeting then. He wondered what was going on. He’d have to see about talking to one of the lower level Syndicate functionaries. A little probing might give him something useful.
Kat came back to drop off a bowl of snacks- nuts or something- and quietly told him about the Spider and the Scar. Which was not much. Both were had been pretty guarded. Still, he did mentally file away the little sliver that Kat thought that Scarface was into Yun. She was hot, after all. Somehow, the scars even made it more so. He wouldn’t mind a run at her- if it didn’t blow up his carefully constructed place or put him in the Syndicate’s crosshairs.
Stanislav and his moron friend left- stormed off really, the door slamming so hard against the frame a lot of people looked up. Trouble. This was it for Kolomov.
And yet for some reason, in the pit of his stomach, he felt a stirring of anticipation. He felt a humming inside him, the buzz of adrenaline. Something was up. He could almost sense a storm building. It was like those times he’d be outside and even though he could feel the sun on him, the clouds high above churned, dark patches seeming to swirl. He could smell moisture and could feel electricity in the air, that sharp tang in the back of his nose.
He fingered his lighter and couldn’t help a smile as he took a long pull of his vodka.
[[Post to follow]]
Edited by Mikhail, Apr 13 2018, 06:52 PM.
Most people ignored servers. Really, they ignored anyone that they didn’t consider important. A useful cover, that. It was the one Mik used the most.
In the meantime, he watched whatever else was going on. Stone face here was just sipping at his drink all super dangerous like. It was the small sips. The calculation. Mik wanted to laugh at it all. The Dangerous Sipper. Oriena was still outside. She’d come back. Or not. Either way, no biggie. When one thing fell through, there was usually another.
Like over at the pool table. God, Stanislav was so fucking stupid. I mean, yeah, he had depended on it, tonight, for the fun he had in mind. Had expected it. But even so, watching it was something else. It was like, seriously? With everything on the line, and a Yakuza boss there in person – the older ones, mind, who rose through the ranks by being willing to be incredibly brutal- including cutting off their own fucking fingers if dishonored. Not to mention his younger guard dogs just looking like they were itching to cut his head off with great relish, eyes shooting daggers.
He could not have planned this any better.
And then he almost laughed out loud. The Yakuza just dismissed them as if they were nothing. Walked away just like that, as if they were homeless beggars who smelled like shit and piss and sweat and dirt. He did laugh softly, but said nothing to Dangerous Sipper there. They made their way to Scarface’s now empty table. Yun had left. Just a meeting then. He wondered what was going on. He’d have to see about talking to one of the lower level Syndicate functionaries. A little probing might give him something useful.
Kat came back to drop off a bowl of snacks- nuts or something- and quietly told him about the Spider and the Scar. Which was not much. Both were had been pretty guarded. Still, he did mentally file away the little sliver that Kat thought that Scarface was into Yun. She was hot, after all. Somehow, the scars even made it more so. He wouldn’t mind a run at her- if it didn’t blow up his carefully constructed place or put him in the Syndicate’s crosshairs.
Stanislav and his moron friend left- stormed off really, the door slamming so hard against the frame a lot of people looked up. Trouble. This was it for Kolomov.
And yet for some reason, in the pit of his stomach, he felt a stirring of anticipation. He felt a humming inside him, the buzz of adrenaline. Something was up. He could almost sense a storm building. It was like those times he’d be outside and even though he could feel the sun on him, the clouds high above churned, dark patches seeming to swirl. He could smell moisture and could feel electricity in the air, that sharp tang in the back of his nose.
He fingered his lighter and couldn’t help a smile as he took a long pull of his vodka.
[[Post to follow]]
Edited by Mikhail, Apr 13 2018, 06:52 PM.
"Good and ill.
We're like the wind,
we blows both ways."
- Mad Sweeney, American Gods
- Mad Sweeney, American Gods