⚔ i thought we might have a little chat.

[defies_reason]

❝Leave a message.❞

☎ voicemail ☎ text message ☞ action

[ooc; All types of contact encouraged & welcomed, just lemme know what's up in the subject line ♥]

Comments

→ TEXT

[intheblanks]

i have a proposal for you.

→ TEXT

[defies_reason]

Is that right?

Who is this?

→ TEXT

[intheblanks]

doctor chase. i got your number through the bar.

→ TEXT

[defies_reason]

Ah.

What can I do for you, Doctor Chase?

→ CALL

[intheblanks]

[What do you know, Mr Sirko. 7pm. Ring, ring.]

→ CALL

[defies_reason]

[Well, well.]

Hello?

→ CALL

[intheblanks]

[He's straight, he's not rude. Though he has spent the better part of the day debating doing this via text, or carrier pigeon, or something.]

Mr, um. Sirko? ...It's Doctor Chase.

Action (Showing up for their post-curfew 'date', perhaps?)

[rianofski]

[Look who's already waiting for you when you get off work, Isaak. And look who's already looking quite devilish, pleased by the fact that they're breaking curfew. It's the small rebellions that really count.]

Hello.

Action (Works for me! <3)

[defies_reason]

[As ever, Isaak never makes an unconsidered choice. His bar closes well before curfew, because he does not want to risk its closure; it's a point of pride as well as livelihood.

That said, one or two men straying to the wrong side of town-- the underside, perhaps, as that seems the likeliest place-- are much less obtrusive, much less likely to be caught. And though he doesn't have any particular love for the rebels, he does not like to be told what to do.

And so he's smiling as well. Revolution is a young man's game, but that only means he feels ages younger having a go at it.]

Evening.

Re: Action

[rianofski]

[He's not one for overt revolution, in this case, but personal revolution is just as interesting, and far more beneficial in the short term.]

Good day at work?

[His tone is casual, almost lighthearted (for him, at least) and he begins walking, not sure where they're headed, but wanting to get there just the same.]

Action (Wolf's Den)

[candothat]

[Chekov hasn't had much time to visit the Wolf's Den since his crew began filtering into the City. Between get them all up to speed, magical illnesses, and the appearance of a terrorist from home, there hasn't been time for anything. It's like being at home again.

That may or may not be a good thing.

The eighteen year-old sits at the bar, glancing over his shoulder periodically to make sure no one's following.]

Action (Wolf's Den)

[defies_reason]

[There are, really, probably few places Chekov could go and be safer. Possibly he doesn't know that. Really, that might be for the best. Isaak has been enjoying a rare extended period of staying on the right side of the law-- broken curfews notwithstanding-- but, well, habits die hard, and he does like the lad.]

Pavel Andreievich, [he says warmly, from the other end of the bar. Where he has totally not been checking out patrons. Except, really, that's one of the best perks of owning the bar. He stands to move closer.] It's been a while, hasn't it?

Action (Wolf's Den)

[candothat]

[He has no idea, but this bar does feel safer than an apartment full of people that an augmented psychopath from the past wants to kill. (It's refreshing to get away from all of these best friends who're so pleased to be together, too. Not that Pavel's bitter or anything, it's just... unpleasant.)]

Isaak Stefanovich. It has been, yes, sorry. [Another look around to make sure there aren't any terrorists or superior officers lurking. Kirk did tell them not to go off on their own.] Have you been well? Were you affected by the illnesses?

action, (9/7);

[candothat]

[The time: Saturday, midday. The place? A cafe just off of the City Square.

A hungry six year-old has gone forth in search of food for himself and a new friend. Pavel doesn't have any money--or, for that matter, a solid grasp of the workings of a capitalistic society--but he has confidence in his ability to beg. Hasn't his mother told him time and time again that it's impossible to refuse him anything?

The cafe happens to be the first place the boy has stumbled across that has a decent number of idle adults with food. He sets his sights on the nearest adult--Isaak, not that Pavel remembers him in his cursed state--and walks over to him with all of the seriousness of a diplomat approaching a new alien species. In slow, deliberate, and barely-intelligible English:]

I may have food, please?

action, (9/7);

[defies_reason]

[Isaak, on his third cup of coffee, fixes the boy with a somewhat skeptical look. Though he's not (by and large) a cruel man, he's never been one for charity... And certainly not one for children. This makes two in a day (and it will be more, though as yet he doesn't know it.)

But for now, a simpler explanation comes to mind.]

Did the other boy send you?

[He asks, curiously rather than accusingly. In Russian, because if Meyer did send him along, this lad is bound to understand. And if not, if he doesn't understand, perhaps he'll leave.]

action, (9/7);

[candothat]

[This isn't the easy victory that Pavel had anticipated. The sound of his mother tongue, however, assuages any feelings of disappointment. This stranger is only the second person he has met who speaks something other than Standard. In excited Russian:]

You know Russian! Where are you from? Do you know how I can go home?

[Forget Meyer and his promise to find something to eat. Locating an exit would be even better.]

Action

[recognize_an_opportunity]

[Meyer doesn't precisely remember the events of the weekend where he'd been a child, but he has it on good authority that this Isaak fellow had been one of the individuals who'd helped him out in his younger state. Fed him, even, which is certainly worthy of repaying him. It doesn't take much asking around before he ascertains that Isaak owns a bar, and that afternoon, before heading to his own job, he resolves to stop by the bar and thank Isaak for his help in person.

When he wanders in, he doesn't necessarily notice the fact that the bar seems to be populated entirely with men. He has other things on his mind, or he'd probably notice another patron of the bar eyeing him appraisingly. Instead, he just takes a seat, looking around for the owner of the place.]

Action

[defies_reason]

[Perhaps it would be a little clearer were the Wolf's Den a flashier place, but that simply isn't his style.

Isaak is sat near the door today, reading a magazine, keeping no more than a vague eye on things. Honestly this bar might as well be his sitting room. He doesn't recognize Meyer, of course-- really don't all children look more or less alike, and very little as they will?-- but eventually the young man does manage to catch his notice. He's here with an air of purpose, not a regular, and not checking out his prospects. They get their fair share of patrons looking, of course, only for a friendly place-- but the newcomer doesn't seem to be on such a casual visit.]

Looking for someone? [He asks at length, pitched just loud enough to be heard.]

Re: Action

[recognize_an_opportunity]

I'm looking for the owner.

[He does give Isaak an appraising look, then, and though he can't exactly remember what Isaak had looked like before -- it's all so vague and fuzzy now, like it had been a dream -- he's relatively certain that he's who he's looking for.]

I assume that's you?

[Unlike when he'd been a young child, his English now is impeccable and precise. What distinguishable accent he has is more New York than anything else, though there might be a hint of something more foreign below it. He doesn't expect Isaak to make the connection from the six year old Russian child he'd met that weekend to the young man standing before him now, and that's always been purposeful on his part -- being that child was never pleasant, and he tries to distance himself as much as possible.]

Action (Y'know, 'cause Russian gangsters have to stick together... or something...)

[recognize_an_opportunity]

[This seems to be the month for bad choices, or at least impulsive ones. From buying and beginning to fix up an old car to taking that same car for a test drive with Al that involved more drugs than actual driving, he's been doing things he wouldn't normally do. Which is why, despite knowing now full well what clientele the Wolf's Den caters to, he can be found sitting -- by himself, of course -- in an unobtrusive corner of the bar one night, nursing a drink and trying not to look too curious as he gazes around the place.]

Action (OR SOMETHING.)

[defies_reason]

[Well, hello, stranger. Isaak would like to be charitably surprised, but if he's honest, he really isn't.

Still, he's habitually discreet, and when he sits down next to Meyer he sits without looking, sparing the bartender a glance and a nod. It's good to be the king, as they say.]

Evening.

Re: Action

[recognize_an_opportunity]

[He'd been expecting to see Isaak here. He's the owner, after all. Had he been hoping to see him? That's a level of self-examination that he doesn't care to submit himself to. So instead of thinking about it, he just nods politely.]

Evening.

action; backdated to 1/18

[candothat]

[Chekov has decided that he needs to talk to Isaak in person. What he has not determined is what he intends to say. Nothing has really changed. It's not as if the eighteen year-old hadn't guessed long ago that the Ukrainian has been, if not part of a criminal organization, employed in some kind of unsavory business. He thinks it should bother him that one of the few people in the City he would consider family has been involved in such shady things. Isaak's probably killed more people than Chekov would like to think about.

He really needs to not think about that as he walks into Isaak's office, playing it casual. (It's not a very convincing casual.)]

Isaak Stefanovich.

action; backdated to 1/18

[defies_reason]

[Really, Isaak ought to be more concerned, with that proverbial cat out of its bag, but he thinks if Chekov intended never to speak to him again, Chekov would simply never speak to him again.

But, certainly, for a young man with principles it must be a bitter pill.

Isaak is waiting, two glasses on his desk, evidently absorbed in looking over a schedule. For all that he is a man of flexible morals, he is not inclined to try to wriggle out of difficulty. He has no intention of trying to sway Chekov's mind either way. They are simply having a drink.]

Pavel Andreievich. [He looks up, not displeased but rather more reserved than usual, and gestures at the seat across. Have a seat, if you will.]

action; backdated to 1/18

[candothat]

[At the moment, Chekov's thoughts keep contradicting themselves. Nothing has changed and everything has changed since, prior to now, he was happy enough to turn a blind eye to anything about Isaak that made him uncomfortable. Stupid, yes, but denial has worked well for him in the City. Trouble only arises when he starts questioning things. Does it matter if Isaak's morals are very different from Chekov's? It didn't until he was given confirmation (however vague) that they are. And where did this feeling of betrayal come from? It's not as if Isaak has ever lied to him.

He sits in the indicated seat and attempts to keep his thoughts and emotions in check. Isaak, as usual, seems untroubled, but his somewhat withdrawn air doesn't go unnoticed.]

I am not sure what I came here to say.

[At least it's honest. Chekov picks up the glass closest to him, more for the sake of occupying himself with something than out of a desire to drink.]