Ivan Braginsky
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Grief isn't the sea, drink it to the dregs.
Posts: 42
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Post by Ivan Braginsky on May 6, 2012 23:48:48 GMT -4
The house was quiet aside from the tocking of a grandfather clock, breaking through the dreaded silence in a pattern that could drive anyone up the wall. Decorations and garnishes that dressed each room were one of the few things he could hold onto of his home country, clinging just enough to his old culture and customs that the Russian could feel more at ease when here. A few of the sunflowers that he was lucky to be growing in the backyard hung over tall vases, bringing vibrant color to the home, as did the occasional set of nesting dolls that sat around, the pictures of family and the carpets that were draped on the walls and windows. There were things likely to be seen as childish to the common eye - a plushie or a music box - but were found normal to him. The younger brother was out at the moment and Ivan was left on his own, considering the usual option of entering someone else's house unannounced, when it dawned on him how rare it was that anyone else visited his own. It did happen for government meetings or with friends of his little Caucasian brother, though in his case it seemed as if others avoided visited. Of course that couldn't be it; he found himself rather good at making friends, or maybe he just didn't have enough yet. It was well known that one should have caution as to whom they bring into their home, but that fact was paid little mind to. He would know how to deal with most anyone who was under his roof, as was his belief. And so, he had decided on inviting the Scottish one over. No harm, right? He wasn't exactly aware of the redheaded man's affiliation, and certainly not his occupation, and he couldn't recall ever seeing him in the government officials' district.. but in his opinion, the two had a rather sturdy friendship, if that's what it could be called. With hope, this offer wouldn't go abandoned and he would have himself company for once.
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Deleted
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Post by Deleted on May 20, 2012 21:25:27 GMT -4
Usually on slow days, such as this, Hamish found himself painting in a pure white room while he began to plot what he had to do to get his hands on his next prize. He already began trying to decide if he was going to target the resistance or the government later that night. The thought process froze when he realized he had received an invitation from the large Russian man he sometimes identified as his friend. There weren’t many that he considered his friends and it was rare that someone wanted to be friends with him. In the back of his mind Hamish wondered if it was a trap but remembering that Ivan was too childish to try tricking anyone made Hamish relax. Hamish locked his store up and began heading towards Ivan’s house. As he got closer he felt himself beginning to worry again if this was a trap is some way. He was sure Ivan was part of the government and he didn’t want to be attacked by someone thinking he was one of the resistance leaders. Taking a deep breath Hamish knocked on the door and almost prayed that this was not a trick of any kind.
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Ivan Braginsky
New Member
Grief isn't the sea, drink it to the dregs.
Posts: 42
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Post by Ivan Braginsky on Jun 23, 2012 2:24:49 GMT -4
There was a pause after the muffled knocking against his door had broken the silence of the house. The door wasn't being broken down, at least, which lead to hopeful conclusions that the Scotsman actually had accepted his invite - things were already off to a formal start, showing a sense of decency between the two men that would, surely, be destroyed by the end of the day with what was in mind. The sizable blond brought himself to his feet, calmly making his way to the front door and pushing it open. The habitual curl of a smile tugged at his lips, violet eyes watching the redheaded man that now stood in front of him, pulling the door open wider to allow him more room.
"Goot afternoon, Hamish," he greeted in his usual accented, sing-songy voice, moving back a step. "I am glat that you came, come in now~" Any notions of being suspicious of the other man weren't high in his mind at the moment, knowing better than to worry about either of his works when there was company present; though that still wouldn't keep him from keeping an eye on the other. He still was part of the government, with a sort of withdrawal from having had to punish anyone in a rather long while, though he was intending for this visit to be more enjoyable than so serious and having to do with business. And it was obvious that the Scottish man didn't appear as enthused. "... It is somethink that I do not like to think, but it seems that you are one of my only friends here, and so I thought we coult use time together." The fact that the ginger was being so carefully observed would more likely than not provide no help at all in making him feel more at ease. Though that was what his smile was for.
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Deleted
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Post by Deleted on Jul 6, 2012 1:27:53 GMT -4
Knocking on the door of someone who could turn on him and turn him in had Hamish nervous but he refused to show any sign of his panic on his face. Normally he wasn’t so afraid of getting close to another but so far he had been stabbed by a government agent and attacked by a resistance member, which caused him to be afraid that once again he would have someone wanting to bring harm to him. All Hamish was positive of was Ivan wasn’t neutral and could bring him harm if that is what he wished. For a moment Hamish was beginning to wonder of Ivan was even there until the door opened causing him to jump a little. Hamish did his best to smile for the large Russia who had invited him over for some reason.
The thin ginger gave a small nod and whispered, “Good afternoon to you too, Ivan. I never expected to be invited over by you.” Hamish moved passed Ivan into the house and began scanning to see if there were angry traps or things hidden around the room. Turning towards the large Russian he gave a gentle smile trying to show that he was not a threat and trying to be friendly. “I’m you’re only friend? How interesting because it seems you’re the only one I can say is my friend.” It was weird to think that someone he didn’t speak to a lot was the only person he could say was a friend. “Hey Ivan, I have a question for you… Are you neutral?”
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