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Previous Opera House Thread wrote:Ivan walks quickly (jogging might be seen as aggressive) over to the group. When he gets to a respectable distance, but within earshot, he calls out: "Vozhd, I am Ivan Karpenku. The man inside said that you wished to speak to me. How may I be of service?"Loremaster wrote:Ivan Karpenku wrote:Ivan jogs to the edge of the stage and jumps into the aisle. He pats him on the shoulder, a little roughly, and says solemly, "Thank you, asshole." Then he races up the aisle to the exit doors, across the lobby, and out the front door.
He looks around for Maxim, in his red shirt. Or for any cars that are just pulling away.
Maxim can be seen standing with a group of kindred. There are a couple of expensive cars nearby, and an open door of one is bathing the group in golden light. The door is being held open by a giant of man, all muscle with a face that had been broken many times.
"Glad to hear that you want to continue to speak the native tongue," Maxim says with a smile and in Russian. "I actually hate speaking that crass American language, but when in Rome." He shrugged and look out of the window.Ivan Karpenku wrote:Ivan smiles broadly.
[language=russian]"In spite of what it may have looked like inside, I can behave with perfect manners. I think the nuns at the orphanage told me to graciously accept anything offered to me, and thank the giver. So, thank you for the offer of a ride. I would be happy to go with you. Though, I also hope that today demonstrated that I can be obedient to those in positions of authority."[/language]
Ivan follows Maxim into the back of the car, smiling still.
[language=russian]"Out of curiosity, what kind of friends did you want me to bring? The useful kind, or the disposible kind?"[/language]
"I have someplace in mind, then. And no, we do not need a physician. Your body will heal either very quickly with a bit of blood, or over night. either way, the healing will push the slug out." Tatiana opens the door for Khalida, and closes it once she is in, then walks around and enters the drivers side. Smoothly starting the sporty little coupe, she smoothly and quickly drives off.Khalida Mufarrij wrote:Khalida winces as she attempts to put full weight on to her wounded leg. Tatiana's touch settled her some, but the pain as she limps from the bar across the foyer to the exit is more than she expected. By the time she and Tatiana descends the stairs back to street level, Khalida knew the suggestion to walk in search of the bookstore would prove impossible.
Blinking back tears of pain, she turns to her sire. "I think walking may be a bad idea after all. Can you drive a stick shift? My car is right there," said as she nods towards a silver 2004 Mazda RX-8. "A high school graduation present from my father," she explains. "He would have upgraded it to a new car of my choice, if I were actually graduating from Howell this June..."
As she settles in the passenger seat, she looks at Tatiana. "What did you mean when you said, 'And a little bit of blood will put you to rights?' Do we not need to seek out a physician to remove the bullet and bandage my leg? Perhaps the bookstore isn't such a good idea," she continues, as she lays her head back against the headrest and closes her eyes. "You choose where we should go to talk..."
Ivan glanced at the driver, as he meneuvered the car into traffic."Oh! I see what this is. My choice of blood donor is a job interview, no? If I cause problems in your domain before a week is out, if I can't do this simple job of finding a good quality donor who won't bring too much attention, then I'm not worthy of discussing business."Loremaster wrote:"I think," he says to Ivan despite that he continues to look out of the window, "that you could be very useful. So I have decided to make an investment. From this night you can feed in my domain. But I won't ask for money. No. I believe you can prove very useful to me."
He turned around to face Ivan, his eyes narrowed and his face deadly calm. "Bring any friend you want to my bar in a week, but bring me some blood. Good quality, not that drug-fucked shit. We will laugh, reminisce and then talk business. Got it?
"Where to, mister Karpenku?"
Maxim laughed loudly, but his eyes looked serious. "Relax, my friend. It's just how we do things in New Moscow." He laughed again. "We will do business anyway. The blood is like good old fashioned Georgian wine; something us Soviets used to drink while we planned to kill svinoi.Ivan Karpenku wrote:Ivan glanced at the driver, as he meneuvered the car into traffic."Oh! I see what this is. My choice of blood donor is a job interview, no? If I cause problems in your domain before a week is out, if I can't do this simple job of finding a good quality donor who won't bring too much attention, then I'm not worthy of discussing business."
"Just take me to your bar, then. That will make two places in this town I know how to get to. I won't come in and pester you until the week is out. But I can wander the streets and get used to the lay of the land."