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Flyers
#21
Aurora thought to herself, 'suit yourself.' She waved a hand for him to sit and make himself at home. And he asked what brought her to Moscow. That was the best question, ever! One to which she had been asking herself for months on end. Why was she in Moscow? The better question was, why was she still in Moscow? Where would she go? Here was as good as a place as any to get answers, it was after all where she was going. There were answers here, she only had to find them.

The man who had called her, the one she'd ran away from when she had the perfect bodyguard to help her handle the situation. John looked like a man who knew his way around a gun, and probably a guy who didn't shy away from a fight when necessary, or maybe even not so necessary. Maybe she would call him back. Aurora shook her head. No, she wasn't ready for that yet. Not yet!

Aurora smiled. "Now that's a long story, one I'm too tired to tell. Let's just say I'm here to find myself."
It actually wasn't a lie, she was proud that it came out so easily.

She looked to their sleeping friend. "You two don't look like you'd be friends. What's that story? You said he helped you."
Aurora looked back at Pyotr. "No offense to your friend here, but he looks like a thug, the tattoo's don't help. And you, don't look like a man he'd be friends with. And yet here you sit."
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#22
Pyotr laughed. He and Bas weren't exactly two people anyone would expect to be friends. Pyotr remembered how afraid he was of Bas when they first met. Bas could still be scary, but Pyotr generally had no fear of him anymore.

"Yeah, I can understand why you would say that. I was scared to death of him when we met. I used to be quite the screw up and was pushed around a lot for it. One day, I decided to push back, so I went to an MMA gym to learn how to fight. That's where I met Bas. He was sparring with someone else. I started training and after I was done, they invited me out for drinks."
Pyotr paused. "I don't really know why, but that night, someone started pushing me around again. I stood up for myself and when a fight broke out - he had my back. It wasn't about the fight though. Bas and this other guy, they helped me find my confidence. It turns out that's all I needed. People really don't push me around anymore."


Pyotr shrugged. He was a completely different person now than he was not so long ago. He continued. "Well that's our story."
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#23
Aurora listened to the man's tale of friendship. Three guys hanging out at a gym, an MMA gym, which meant they beat each other up on regular basis. It actually sounded like fun. At least it explained a bit about the pair, friends because of circumstances.

Aurora glanced at Bas, he didn't look quite so thugish while sleeping. She wondered about his story, actually about anyone's story, how they got into things. She looked back at Pytor and sipped at her coffee. She really didn't need it, she would rather have her bed.

Aurora smiled and put the still warm coffee cup on the coffee table. "You can take first watch if you insist on staying. I'm gonna crash for a few hours. Use the TV, make more coffee, whatever. Make yourself at home. But don't let him leave if I'm asleep. I want to look him over before he goes. Whatever he's on, it could do more damage than good. I can help, sorta one of the things I can do."


Aurora slipped off into her bed room and laid down on her bed. Two strange men in her apartment, inviting three in total and yet she wouldn't meet the man who clearly knew who she was. It was ironic. The irony played itself out while Aurora drifted off to sleep.
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#24
Bas' head moved slightly as he slept, dreams that no one could see, fueled by the strange effects of the tainted Shaolin Sleep. Inside his mind, Bas was sitting in a dark room, a single solitary light creating a pool of light. But the dark was...different. It had weight, thickness, volume, like molasses. It pressed in on the light, sharply defining the cone of light from the blackness. That cone bowed in under the pressure of the dark like tent walls bowing in and Bas felt a terror he had not known since he was a small child, hiding under the bed while one of his mom's boyfriends beat her.

If the wall of light collapsed, the dark would fall on him like a blanket, smother him as it slithered into his nostrils and down his throat like black oil, seeping into his eyes until they were black orbs. Somehow, he knew that if that would happen, he too would be nothing but a hollow skin-job, a suit worn by something else.

He prayed fervently to the Blessed Virgin, the Holy Mother, pleaded with her to intercede with her Son, to grant him the power that would protect him. But though he could sense the power he could not reach for it. It refused to come, as though he were in a cage, unable to reach out and take it.

He was in a cage. He rattled the bars, narrow and close, reaching for the sun, while demons circled the cage, tried to bite at hands and fingers that passed between the bars.

One of those faces was Pyotr. Another was the stranger he'd met on the street. Another was his brothers, still another Roman. They had all been replaced and he was next.

He prayed and strained to break the bars, pulling fingers in when a demon came close.

The world around him began to fade to mist and fear lanced through him that they would get him. But they were fading too. He looked down and he was fading, everything becoming a mist that was dissipating into nothingness, as did his fear and terror.

He became aware of light behind his eyelids, warmth a blanket covering him. And then he felt a blanket- and cushions- and he felt like he was home, home, a place that never really had existed, not like this, the home of childhood, of complete peace and security, blanketed with warmth and love and care. It was a mother's home, though not one he'd ever consciously known. He smiled and opened his eyes and was in a strange place.

He saw Pyotr sprawled in a chair, sleeping peacefully. The lingering smell of coffee was in the air. He lay there for a while, just drifting in thought, wondering what had happened last night. He vaguely remembered being on the street corner with Pyotr and the stranger, of being terrified that someone was after him. He even had a hazy memory of being afraid of Pyotr, which didn't make sense.

A memory came to him of the Holy Mother appearing to him, saving him. He crossed himself. He didn't know if it was real, but something had happened. He could still see her face, beatific in its repose, haloed in light, kind smile beaming down on him. He sighed. Even if it was a hallucination, it made him glad for it.

He did wonder, though, as he sat up and swung his feet around ont he couch, what had happened to him. He'd never had that reaction to vodka before. Then he thought about the weed he and Mik had smoked. Maybe it was laced with something. They'd both smoked it, so it probably wasn't Mik himself who'd done it. Whatever it was, he had been paranoid. Maybe PCP or something. He'd have to find out what happened. If it was deliberate, heads would roll.

His voice low, "Hey. Pyotr. Hey! Wake up."
He stood up- he was a bit shakey but not too bad- and stepped over to shake the man gently. "Hey! Wake up. Where are we?"
He looked around. The apartment looked pretty small and didn't have too much, but it was tidy. His instinct said this was a chick's place.
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#25
Aurora woke a few hours later. She'd specifically set an alarm to do so, she stretched her and yawned and really could use a few more hours of sleep, but today maybe today would be different.

She doubted it really, but optimism was key to making the next day count. Who knew what was going to happen. If that plane crash had done anything for her, it was to remind her that everyday counted, and to make the most of it. Cause tomorrow, it never comes.

Aurora walked out of her bedroom and saw both men were sleeping. Pyotr couldn't be comfortable. But breakfast that was in order. She'd cooked for John only days before, now she was cooking for two more strangers. She smiled at the thought, her mother would have freaked out. But for some strange reason she felt that reaction was unfair, but she couldn't remember why.

As she pulled out the eggs and the bacon and started a fresh pot of coffee, she heard a new voice, she could only assume it was Bas. Aurora stuck her head out of the kitchen doorway. "You are in my apartment, sleeping off whatever god forsaken drug you had last night. Throwing fireballs at parked cars can't be your day job."
She grinned at him, "I'm fixing breakfast."
She stepped back into the kitchen and started preparing what would consist of breakfast, the only truly left out thing was a pot of grits, but like the cubed steak she'd wanted at the shop she would have to import it, polenta just wouldn't cut it.
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#26
Pyotr awoke with a start to being shaken and looked up and saw Bas looking around. He had asked a question, but it appeared as if Aurora had answered him. Pyotr moved to stand, but something stuck in his gut - god he had forgotten about the prostitute's business card. He would have to get it out, but would rather do so when others weren't watching - digging around in his pants in the middle of a hot girls apartment would be rather strange.

Instead he looked at Bas. "Good morning, how are you feeling? Good morning Aurora."
As he stood, Pyotr could feel all his bones popping back into place.

"I'm too young for all of this bone popping and creaking. Bas, whatever it was you were on last night, it messed you up big time. I've never seen you paranoid before. You didn't even recognize me. Let's get some water and/or coffee."
Pyotr directed Bas to the kitchen. "Time for you to meet our lovely hostess."


When Bas turned around completely, Pyotr dug the card out of his pants and place it in his pocket. Stupid card was poking him in the gut.


Edited by Pyotr Grigory, Nov 7 2014, 01:27 PM.
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#27
Before Pyotr could respond, a face peeked around the corner and his mouth fell open. She was real? She spoke but the words didn't penetrate at first. Her face disappeared again. Pyotr said something but he wasn't listening.

He walked to the kitchen and watched her for a moment. He swallowed. For the first time ever in his life, he felt shy about talking to a woman. The words wouldn't come to him. He didn't know what to say. She was flesh and blood. She was real. A part of his mind knew that she wasn't really the Holy Mother. She couldn't be. But he couldn't shake the feeling.

Finally, he forced himself to speak. The words came out softly. "Thank you."
He swallowed again, forcing himself to go on. "My name is Sebastian."
He smiled weakly. He looked around. It was a small kitchen and smells of bacon began to fill the air. "You don't have to make us breakfast. I'm sorry for our intruding on your home."


He felt uncomfortable and wanted to leave. He didn't belong here, not a guy like him. "We'll go."
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#28
Aurora smiled, he seemed awful quiet. From the look on Pyotr's face it was unnatural. There was nothing natural about fireballs, and magic. Though Aurora was certain they had a lot more in common than they both realized.

"So that's what Bas is short for."
She turned and grinned at him with a playful look. "I like Sebastian better."


She wiped her hands on a rag and extended hers to him. "Aurora. And I wasn't making YOU breakfast. I was making ME breakfast."
She grinned again with the same playful smiled. "But you are both welcome to join me. There is plenty."


Aurora turned to the coffee pot and pulled a clean mug from the cabinet. She poured a cup and offered it to Pyotr, and turned to Sebastian. "Coffee?"
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#29
Pyotr raised his eyebrows at the exchange and frowned. Aurora was a beautiful woman and Bas never acted like that around beautiful women. It was a strange site to see. He seemed almost - shy?

Pyotr wondered if it was an after effect of the drugs or what not, but he'd talk with Bas about it later - not in front of Aurora anyways. Pyotr accepted the cup of coffee and thanked Aurora for it before turning back to Bas.

"It might be good for you to eat something, and you should definitely get hydrated. It might be a good idea for us to stay for a bit, just to make sure you're okay."


Pyotr placed a reassuring hand on Bas's shoulder. He was sure Bas was alright, but wow...he was almost acting how Pyotr used to act. It was definitely a change.
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#30
The woman- her name was Aurora- offered her hand and he took it reverently. The spell was wearing off. He knew she wasn't the Holy Mother. Her hand was soft and warm and he shook it gently. And then answered her offer of coffee with a thank you.

Pyotr suggested that they stay for a bit and Bas was willing. It was funny. Any other day, any other time, and he'd be chatting the girl up in a heartbeat. And imagining all kinds of ways of getting her out of those clothes. She was pretty cute despite having that slept in look. But something about her...he just didn't think of her that way. Imagining her as a target just didn't feel right to him.

Inside he shook his head. Never in his life did he expect to think those words. The universe suddenly made a little less sense. And that was saying something.

But she was kind and hospitable. He took the coffee. "Well, thank you Aurora."
He shook his head. "The stuff I was smoking had to have been laced with something. All I can remember is thinking that someone was out to get me."
He looked at Pyotr. "I thought you had been possessed or something."


He frowned as a flash came to him. He remembered fire. Come to think of it, he could smell in on his clothes too- fire and gas. "There was a fire. What happened?"
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