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Stop. Basket time.
#1
It was her turn to pick what they were going to do, and Zoya had very pointedly decided that Ivan would engage in basket weaving. Her decision was mostly based on the endless teasing she’d received from in the past weeks. She wasn’t opposed to the activity, but this was payback. Best case scenario, she would get under his skin, smile sweetly, and he would know the entire time exactly why she had dragged him there. Or, at least, she’d get to see just how dexterous those hands of his could be.

Looking down at her wallet Zo scrolled through the names on her contact list. Ayden’s name was the first on the list, and she’d paused to stare at it for a moment. She needed to call her. Since the incident at the river, Zo had put off calling the other woman for far too long. The warning in Ayden’s words still rang loudly in her ears, but part of her was still too nervous to bring herself to make the call. Soon, though, she had to do it soon.

Finding Ivan’s number, she quickly set to sending him a message.

Beat you here, Supercop. Meet you outside the shop.

Putting the wallet away, she slipped her hands in her pockets. The day was a little chilly, but it wasn’t something she couldn’t tolerate. Outside of the shops, people made their way without so much as a glance in her direction. It was a busy day, but that wasn’t strange for the marketplace.

Every now and then, Zoya looked through the crowd for Ivan’s tall figure. In the past few weeks the two of them had managed to spend some time together. As far as she was concerned, they were still just getting to know each other, but she still couldn’t shake the sense of familiarity he gave her whenever he drew close. When she stopped to think about it after putting some distance between them, the whole situation made her restless. Yet, she had no desire to stop seeing him just yet.
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#2
Bas fixed the dumb hippy with a glare. In a back office, the walls were thick enough that no one would hear if he screamed. "What did you do to it?"
he asked softly. "Just tell me. Come on. Just tell me."
This was the fourth guy he'd spoken to and he'd finally found what he was looking for.

He hadn't been able to get a hold of Mik for some reason, so he had been forced to work his way down. He'd already found the importer of the Shaolin Sleep. Visit after visit had finally led him to this man, who'd sold it to Mik.

Maybe the guy was innocent. It was his only lead, though. If not this guy, then it could be any one of a number of guys who'd spiked it when Mik wasn't looking. Still, what else was he gonna do? Just let that kind of shit happen?

The power flowed in him but he only used it to watch the guy's reaction. He was scared of course. As they talked, Bas was more and more convinced it hadn't been him though. He was far too afraid to do something like that.

When he left the shop and walked out into the sunlight in the market he was disappointed. The cold air swirled around his legs. He was just wearing one of his simple wool suits- black with a white shirt and red and black striped tie- and a charcoal full length top coat. Now what? And why couldn't he get a hold of Mik? More than disappointed, really. He'd let the power go. The loss of it combined with his frustration left him angry.

For the first time in a long while, he was looking for a real fight. And not as a game either.
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#3
Ivan shook his head as he read her text. Good Lord, he couldn't believe she was dragging him to this place. He'd only been teasing her about being a hippy. He hadn't noticed any incense or tie-dye or the smell of patchouli in her room. That whole style was fairly common among some college youth despite its age, but it was also pretty obvious.

Truth is, though, he didn't mind. Not really. Any excuse to get together was good enough for him. Hell, it gave him more things to tease her about. And of course, she gave as good as she got. She had giggled hysterically when he showed her the t-shirt he wore, fists on his hips in the stance, chin jutted out. The shirt was all blue with the Superman 'S' on it. AND his badge pinned to his chest. He smiled. That had been fun.

He made his way through the market looking for the store she'd mentioned. Mostly, though, he was looking for Zoya. His face lit up every time he saw her.

Like right now. She was looking through the crowds in the other direction when spotted her. Unmistakable. He walked up to her. "Heya Zo,"
he said with a smile before giving her a brief kiss and a hug. Her smile made his day.

Tearing his eyes away from her, he looked at the store behind her. He put on mock-reluctance. "So....this is it, huh?
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#4
She rocked on her heels as she waited, and considered bringing herself up to the tips of her toes to look over the crowd. Despite her efforts, however, she couldn’t see him. As she came back down on her heels, the jingling sound of bells caught her attention and she turned her glance towards the doors of the shop. The man that exited the establishment was rather attractive, she noted, or at least he would have been were it not for the particularly displeased look on his face. In any case, he sure knew how to dress. A detail that caught both Zoya’s attention and interest. The scene in front of her was a bit incongruous. Had the man gotten lost? From her experience, finely tailored suits were not the usual get up for such a place.

The look she gave the stranger lasted a few brief seconds before Ivan’s voice called out from behind her. Spinning around to see him, Zoya pushed any thoughts of the stranger to the back of her mind. The smile she gave him was both playful and genuinely happy. The kiss he gave her was a small brief peck, but as their lips parted, she could have sworn the two of them had been standing somewhere other than the busy marketplace. Blinking, she stepped out of his embrace and wrapped her arms around one of his.

“That would be the place.”
She looked towards the building and gave his arm a little squeeze. “Not going to back down now, are you? I was looking forward to seeing you get crafty.”

Edited by Zoya Bocharov, Feb 3 2015, 12:26 AM.
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#5
The flicker of impotent anger seemed to stoke into a rage within moments, as if fanned by the slight chill breeze in the air. He ground his teeth in frustration. He felt trapped, hunted even. A growl escaped from his throat. He was no prey. A memory flashed to mind, hiding behind the door in an abandoned building as the other gang hunted him and Vlad for some stupid shit or another. They'd been causing some trouble outside their territory. The adrenaline pumped through his veins with each heartbeat, beat in time to their echoed steps, first in the excitement and then, gradually, shame and anger. No one hunts me! floated up from deep in his heart, a feeling beyond words.

HIS prey stupidly crept closer and closer, his hands feeling the rough cement of the cinder block as if he had eyes in his finger and palms, the chalky jagged surface nearly visible to him in the dark. Closer they crept, whispers clear and the sound of his heart thundered in his chest with anticipation, the same as when he was with a girl and was about to take her for the first time, the slow dance and reveal, closer and closer. He licked his lips as the face appeared around the corner and he struck, the satisfying tchunk traveling up his arm.

The room had been set on fire as the other five guys reacted to their attack, but he was an animal and they had wandered into his lair. Their faces flashed through his mind, the surprise and rage. He didn't feel the blows that had left heavy bruises and cuts for later. And it didn't matter. Chick's digged scars anyway. The whole fight had been one big orgiastic release.

He'd only taken a step or two from the storefront for the whole memory to sweep over him, but his nostrils flared as if he could still smell the blood and dust and chalk in the room. He was being hunted again. He clenched and unclenched hist fists, cracked his neck, shoulders going back slightly, and glared from face to face searching. First at Kallistis? Then GUM? Paranoid? Maybe. He didn't care. He had good instincts. If he was being hunted, they would find out who was the hunter and who the prey.

He caught a pretty woman looking at at him, but when he focused on her she suddenly turned to the man that materialized behind her. He stopped dead. Ohh....so that's the game huh? Use a girl so I won't notice? The man with her was big but that never mattered. Big dumb ape.

His heart beat harder and he prayed and seized the power, felt its crushing fury course through his veins and he dominated it, bent it to his will. He'd never channeled this angry before. Even with Boris, crushing his heart, it had been a game. And then he smiled. This was a game too. Everything around him came into sharp focus, every scent, every color, every sound impinged on his mind and spirit, somehow inflaming the fire that already burned in him. He stalked toward the couple.

Nobody hunted him. They only thought they did.
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#6
Zoya's radiant smile sent a ripple through him despite the chill in the air, as did the warmth of her embrace. The cold seemed to disappear completely- along with the world- for the seconds their lips touched.

And then she was wrapping her arms around his and looking up at him playful, teasing him. He looked down at her and then cracked his knuckles in an exaggerated way. "Oh yeah. I can be crafty. You just watch."
He laughed and then his face became innocent. "After this class, I bet I could weave a nice large fan for you. I do know you like to dance."
He grinned and winked at her.

Then he laughed. Truth was, he didn't mind this at all. He really did enjoy spending time with Zoya. He knew they were both playing. It was what they did.

They headed to the door of the shop when suddenly the sense of oppressive menace surged, like he had been shoved from behind. He knew what that was and spun immediately, all sense of fun and goofing off replaced with concern for Zoya's safety, for everyone's safety.

There, bearing down on him like an avalanche was a shaved headed man, face hard with fury. The menace billowed from him in waves that buffeted him. It was only an instant, but in that instant, Ivan was aware of the sea of people around them, of Zoya next to him, and of the absolute danger those people were in. Simple determination filled him without thought. This was his job. These people his responsibility.

The light was bright around him and he seized it, filled himself with it until he felt near to bursting with it. Seconds had passed but it seemed time slowed as did his breaths and the man's steps. He stepped forward to shield Zoya, one hand raised, the other going to the gun holstered under his arm, to keep the situation from escalating.

His voice seemed to come from somewhere deep inside him. "STOP!"
Though his hand was on his gun as he was trained, that was not his first instinct. He readied a dome of air to contain the threat and protect his people.
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#7
One moment she was holding on to Ivan’s arm, and the next he’d practically shoved her behind him shouting for someone to stop. Stop doing what? Confused, and a little more than unnerved, she took a half step to the side and peeked at whoever it was Ivan was shouting at.

For some reason, the man she’d spotted earlier was walking to them and looking angrier than before. “What is going on?”
She asked, hoping Supercop would explain things to her, but given the focus on Ivan’s face, Zoya doubted she would get any answer any time soon.

Some people looked at them strangely, and she could do little but look back at them with confusion. “Ivan?”
Though she looked up at him questioningly, she didn’t move away from behind him. Whatever he saw, he apparently thought she’d be safer just where she was. The idea both irritated and comforted her, but if he was playing a joke on her she would thump him upside the head so hard he’d forget what day it was.

From what she could see, the guy walking to them didn’t even have a weapon. Was the police looking for him? Had Ivan recognized him from somewhere? She’d not seen anything about anyone fitting his description on the news. Whatever was going on, Zoya hoped an explanation would come sooner rather than later.
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#8
Bas eyes flared and the anger he felt before doubled. He'd been right! He been absolutely right!!! He growled. Vindication flooded him, as well as relief. His paranoia had been right. The look of fear at discovery on the big dumb jock's face said it all.

And then, he felt it...the surge of the power in the man, the feel of standing toe to toe with someone else, breath on your face, waiting to see who would make the first move. His smile turned nasty. Oh yeah? So that's how it is, huh? His smile became a feral grin. They're gonna thrown someone with the power at him? Well, he always made the first move.

Bas raised his hand and wove a quick weave of air and fire. It was similiar to what Nox had done, except it wasn't fancy and shaped correctly but Bas was pretty sure it wouldn't back-fire like the one he'd tried before- and it had his own twist. Bas shut his eyes so it wouldn't harm him. In a quick motion he threw the concussive force with all his strength. He could see the after glow through his eyelids. The sound had ricocheted in the correct direction and his ears did not ring. Pride burned with the anger.

The man and the girl behind him and the people next to them visibly fell back as the wave hit them and he couldn't help the surge of pride and power that he felt. They hunted him? Who wielded the power of God? He could almost feel the tattoo on his arm burning. He was already weaving another blast when a dome of air dropped over him, like the one Nox had woven back at the warehouse. Dumbass! Dropping his weave, he wove spirit into a massive blade and slashed and hacked at the dome until it disintigrated before his eyes.

The look on the prick's face was enough to make him laugh out loud. And then he remembered what else Nox had woven in practice and his smile became ugly.
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#9
Ivan saw the look on the man's face and his heart dropped. All these people were in danger. He had to protect them! Before he had time to throw his dome, though, a weave of sound and light slammed into him and those around him. He was thrown back into Zoya. He didn't have time to turn around to check on her because the man was doing it again.

Screams and panic and chaos filled the air as people ran about, trying to flee. That at least was good. The less people about the better. Still, there were too many.

He threw the dome at the man as quickly as he could, tried to hold it with all his strength. He felt the strain of it, like pressing down with all his strength. His skin tingled and he felt pain. But he had to contain the man, stop him before he could hurt anyone. He reached for a radio that wasn't there to call for back up. He called to Zoya, "Call the police!"
while he wove more air to try and shore up the dome.

Because what he was seeing was not possible. The man had made a blade of spirit and was slashing at his dome and somehow it was weakening. He felt the recoil of the threads he held slam into him a handful at a time like the recoil from his gun.

Speaking of which, he pulled his gun even as he tried to weave another shield of sorts. Maybe he could slam it into the guy and knock him down. The man was fast, though. Already he saw something form almost instantaneously, but he couldn't back down. He was the only one here who could stop him. Instead he tried to throw the wall at him as quickly as possible.
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#10
“What the hell…!”


Instead of an explanation, she was nearly knocked back on her rear with a gush of wind so strong it took Ivan’s shout to gather her senses. There was distinct sense of urgency in his voice, and she couldn’t ignore it. Shoving her hands in her pockets, Zoya reached for her wallet and took a few steps back from her date trying to shake away the ringing in her ears.

Around them, most people ran. Again, she looked at the two men in front of her and her fingers hesitated over the screen. As she dialed, she wasn’t quite sure what to tell them. All she knew was that the man that had once been making his way towards them looked incensed, and that for some reason, the look in his eyes drove a chill down her spine.

Her call was finally answered.

Taking a step off to the side, so as to get a better look at the man that had Ivan on edge, she noticed Sarkozy had pulled out his gun. As she spoke to the officer on the other end of the line, Zoya still didn’t understand why Ivan was behaving in this manner. All she could see was an angry man… and then there was that strange wind that came from nowhere…

Realization hit her like a thunderbolt.

“You need to hurry!”
She finished the sentence and ended the call, shoving her wallet back in her pocket. Suddenly fear was a very real thing. She remembered Ayden’s words that night by the river and her heart began to beat faster. Suddenly, she saw Ivan with different eyes. She saw the stranger differently as well, and it frightened her.
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