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Post by MIKHAIL USENKO on Jul 5, 2013 17:08:23 GMT -8
tagged: pasha. time: may 6th, 5PM. notes: date is changeable, just say. A week at work--or almost a week anyway. Almost a week and he was already ready to go home. Not that going home was really an option, but by god, he'd have happily taken the chance to run back to how things were at the first opportunity.
There wasn't going to be that opportunity though.
Things had been going half decently until a cat had been dumped on his desk, and the cat had taken up much of his time. Not that it was just a cat--it was some kind of corrupted creature. Maybe it was leftover. Hell, no one quite knew, but Mikhail was now well aware that it was a massive pain in the rump. It would only eat special food (which had to be alive, of all things), and required constant attention or it would manage to get into things. He had to keep it with him pretty much all the time. If he was at home, it had to be at home. If he was at work, it had to come with him. He'd tuck it away in a cat carrier (luring it in with some food), and then he'd been forced to let it out when possible. If not, it constantly made noise and drove him up the wall.
He'd even been moved into his own 'office' in the vault--one with a door, away from things that could be damaged by water. As Mikhail had found out the first day, the cat was capable of summoning it's own mini-storm clouds, and after the first completely ruined document, he'd been moved into an enclosed area with the cat and given only artifacts that wouldn't be damaged by rainfall to deal with.
Only now he had a problem. Returning from dropping off the latest artifact, he'd found the office completely empty. The cat was gone--someone had let it out, or perhaps it had found it's way out on it's own. It could have been anywhere, and Mikhail was starting to have a tiny panic attack.
It had to be still in the base.
---
It was, in fact, still in the base. It had found its way into a quiet room where no one was, and had crawled up onto someone's desk chair. For the moment, it was safely out of site--dozing until the owner of the room returned. |
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Post by PASHA MIKHAYLICHENKO-MOLOTOV on Jul 10, 2013 18:47:02 GMT -8
tagged: Mikhail Usenko. time: May 6, 5PM. speech: pasha. notes: - - -. Office work started at nine and ended at five, or at least, that’s what normal office hours were. The Impedio Society had it set up a tiny bit different, and Pasha’s hours, though steady compared to the work he used to do, were generally more varied than your average pencil pusher. He’d had a long day as it was, and he began to head back to his own office with a stack of papers tucked under his arm, ready to be signed or pushed to the corner of his desk until he was good and ready.
His own office was one of the bigger ones, and two bookshelves full of encyclopedias and files and all manners of writing were tucked into one corner, while his desk sat almost square in the middle. The desk chair looked rather large, but it was a good enough size for him, and the heavy desk seemed to reflect that. A small plant made its home in one corner, but otherwise, the office itself was devoid of anything personal looking. There were no photos in frames or cute desktop backgrounds of family or personal reading material, minus the daily newspaper. The most personal thing there seemed to be a mug.
A flick of the lightswitch illuminated the sparse, barren room that made up most of Pasha’s ‘home’, if one could even call it that. He placed the stack of papers down on top of the desk and walked around, pulling out the chair.
There was a cat. On his chair. A very strange looking cat, but a cat nonetheless.
He’d been in the business too long if the first thing he thought of was that it was one of those creatures from the bestiary that happened to get loose. It seemed tame enough, just sleeping on his desk chair like that. Wasn’t it supposed to have a handler? He swore he saw a file about it, something about another transfer of ownership or temporary care. Something like that.
”Well…” He reached down, attempting to pick the cat up.
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Post by MIKHAIL USENKO on Jul 12, 2013 15:03:37 GMT -8
tagged: pasha. time: may 6th, 5PM. notes: date is changeable, just say. Mikhail was having a moment. He was nearly running through the base, checking every potted plant, every possible place where the cat could be resting. Any place with water was an obvious sign, because the cat seemed drawn to it. Not to swim, though, but to pester. Anyone with a fishtank was likely going to be in a whole lot of trouble, and he checked each one in term before giving up on that front. Was he going to have to go room to room?
---
The cat was woken from it's slumber by an overly large hand, and oh boy was it not having it. The winged cat let out a yowl, scratching at the hand before jumping off the chair, bolting across the floor and up one of the bookshelves. It wasn't any more agile then a normal cat, but it had one hell of an attitude, and it arched it's back and hissed at Pasha.
Perhaps more alarmingly, a small raincloud appeared to be forming over Pasha's desk in response to the cats agitation.
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Post by PASHA MIKHAYLICHENKO-MOLOTOV on Jul 13, 2013 21:13:40 GMT -8
tagged: Mikhail Usenko. time: May 6, 5PM. speech: pasha. notes: - - -. In all honesty, Pasha wasn’t a fan of cats. He preferred dogs, and he did remember having a dog in his early childhood. Now, what in the hell became of that dog? It sort of disappeared from memory after a certain age, and was never brought up again until certain events triggered it. He just remembered that it was a big, long haired dog. He didn’t even have a recollection of what colour it’s fur was.
And he was quickly reminded of why he preferred dogs over cats. The cat thing woke up with a yowl, and Pasha snapped his hand back, but the cat had already dug its claw into the back of his hand and drew a long line. It began to bleed almost immediately, but Pasha barely cringed as he glared at the little animal. However it went, the cat was almost instantly on top of the bookshelf.
He turned to face it, not immediately noticing the small cloud forming over his papers and desk. He only realized when he heard the sound of dripping water, turned, and immediately pounced for the papers. Goddamnit, whoever was supposed to be taking care of this cat was going to get their ass fired.
Pasha left the cat on top of his bookshelf, putting the papers somewhere dry before picking up the phone and immediately calling the front desk.
”If anybody comes along, asking for a rain-cat, tell them to get themselves up to my office immediately.” And dear god, did he sound angry.
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Post by MIKHAIL USENKO on Jul 14, 2013 17:39:07 GMT -8
tagged: pasha. time: may 6th, 5PM. notes: date is changeable, just say. It just so happened that the front desk knew just who to call, and Mikhail's phone started to ring after just a moment. It was an older loaner model that the society had pawned off on him until he went and picked out one of his own, but it served it's purpose--making sure the society could get a hold of him at any moment. He answered in a moment, and the moment he got the word he was off like a shot to Pasha's office.
He actually remembered to knock, but it was really little more then a pretense at that point. The desk had warned him that he'd been mad, and the fastest way to dissipate that anger was to get the cat out as soon as possible. He didn't wait to be called in, stepping inside immediately, and it took him less then half a second to spot the problem.
It was raining on his desk.
Mikhail let out a strangled noise of frustration as he stepped forward, pointing his finger at the cat. "Princeps, this is the last person whose desk you want to rain on. Stop it this instant." He sounded vaguely commanding, but the cat didn't stop, simply glowered at Mikhail from his perch.
And Pasha was the very last person whose desk should be rained on. Hell, Mikhail would have enjoyed the thought of Princeps choosing to rain on Madaki's desk. At least then the man would know what a handful he'd dropped in Mikhail's lap.
He glanced at Pasha, looking downright mortified by the whole thing. "Someone let him out while I was working." |
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Post by PASHA MIKHAYLICHENKO-MOLOTOV on Jul 14, 2013 21:25:25 GMT -8
tagged: Mikhail Usenko. time: May 6, 5PM. speech: pasha. notes: - - -. The front desk informed him that they’d send someone right up, but he didn’t even let them finish before he slammed the phone down and began to clear off his desk. The stack of papers had the first dozen or so pages soaked, and the rest were quickly dampening. He moved those first, but was well aware that there was extra work ahead to replace them. Whoever ‘lost’ that cat was quickly going to lose a few more brain cells at the earliest convenience when he could get his hands on them.
There came a knock, and he hoped whoever was on the other side had the good sense to leave him well the fuck alone, unless it was the person who was supposed to be caring for the beast; then he hoped whoever it was had the good sense to just come in after the initial knock.
He recognized who came in; Mikhail Usenko, the lanky, pale man that had transferred in from Antarctica and who he’d kept bumping into by the coffee in the mornings. Small chatter aside, he barely knew a thing about him, though he could find out by digging through a file or two if he wanted. Still, Mikhail attempting to sound commanding barely came off as a squeak, and he was much too irritated to really make note.
”I really couldn’t care less what had happened. Just get the damn cat to stop raining on my work.”
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Post by MIKHAIL USENKO on Jul 15, 2013 22:29:02 GMT -8
tagged: pasha. time: may 6th, 5PM. notes: date is changeable, just say. He had--at least before the whole fiasco--rather like Pasha. They had shared a common bond from shared ancestry and language. Of all the people, he had figured it would be the easiest to be friendly with him. They had things in common. It was more then he had with most people, and he could deal with the impression of icy indifference that Pasha gave off at all times. If anything, he preferred it. He didn't want touchy-feely affection, not in his condition, and not having to worry about it was a relief after dealing with Madaki on his first official day.
Now he didn't think that was ever going to happen. Pasha radiated annoyance, and he very much seemed like the sort of person who would hold a grudge. Mikhail fully expected Pasha to remember what was happening ten years down the line when he was up for a promotion, and he was fairly sure he'd bring it up then. He paled slightly, if that was even possible, and turned back to Princeps. The cat had seemed largely intelligent, even if it had a foul temper, and he pressed his lips together in a tight line for a moment before breaking out his ultimatum.
"If you - if you don't stop this instant, you're spending the next week in the cat carrier." It was a double edged threat, considering Mikhail would have to hear the damn cat yowl for the next week, but he was well aware that Princeps enjoyed being able to roam, and a cat carrier was much too small for him.
The cat seemed to stare him down for a moment, and then the cloud over Pasha's desk slowly dissipated, even if the cat remained where he was.
At the very least that was one disaster over, and confident he could fetch Princeps if needed, he turned back to Pasha. "I am really, really sorry about this. He's supposed to be confined to my office, but someone went in to drop off an artifact and let him out. I swear it won't happen again." And it never would, because Mikhail was going to get a damn lock. |
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Post by PASHA MIKHAYLICHENKO-MOLOTOV on Aug 6, 2013 8:49:31 GMT -8
tagged: Mikhail Usenko. time: May 6, 5PM. speech: pasha. notes: - - -. He was already doing the calculations in his head; quite a few hours of work ahead of him, having to get all that stuff back together, new logs, new papers, signing them all and finalizing them a second time around because Mikhail had let the damn cat out. His desk was soaked and he didn't even want to check the cupboards now; all he could hope for was when he did come around to doing so, they wouldn't all be soaked as well. It had only rained for a minute or two, but he supposed that was enough to thoroughly drench anything important.
He sure hoped that beast was going to stay in a carrier anyway, sighing as he put all his papers down on the decently dry chair. The thing needed to get down from his shelf, or else he'd haven plenty of things to say to it's owner. Pasha hadn't kept track of Mikhail's job, but damn it, he could get him quickly demoted from any position if he felt that it was responsible, and letting a creature run loose was far from it.
"Just get the cat off my shelf." And out of his office. He ignored Mikhail's explanation for the time being; he had plenty of those coming in and out every day, and today he was supposed to have gone home a little earlier. So much for that.
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Post by MIKHAIL USENKO on Aug 13, 2013 13:07:16 GMT -8
tagged: pasha. time: may 6th, 5PM. notes: date is changeable, just say. If Mikhail hadn't known better, he might have thought that Princeps was smirking. He sure as hell looked like he was--like the cat thing was smug in it's destruction of Pasha's property. He just looked so pleased with himself, and Mikhail scowled as he stepped forward, reaching up to try and get the cat. Princeps wasn't having it, and he hissed, scratching at Mikhail's hand.
Mikhail wasn't having that, and while he was no longer as fit as he'd once been, he was still more then a match for a cat, even a magical one. He lunged, ignoring his bleeding hand, and grabbed the cat around the middle. Princeps yowled, smacking at Mikhail with his wings, and Mikhail did little more then grunt, adjusting his arms to pin the cat as much as possible.
It was probably the worst way to hold a cat, but Mikhail didn't particularly care as he turned around, still holding the squirming animal as he gave a quick half bow. "I'm really, really sorry." Without another word he made for the door.
Princeps seemed to settle down by the time he made it back to his office, although the cat went right back to yowling when Mikhail secured him in the carrier. Far too small, but then the cat had made plenty of trouble for that day.
It would be another fifteen minutes before Mikhail would reappear, a bandage wrapped around his hand to cover up the scratch marks. There were a few other ones, but they were all so minor that there was no blood, and he felt no particular need to hide them. If anything, he felt the need to hide himself--he was still embarrassed, and he'd probably ruined a lot of Pasha's paperwork.
He paused, then knocked once at the door. Maybe he could help. Maybe. |
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Post by PASHA MIKHAYLICHENKO-MOLOTOV on Aug 16, 2013 9:52:52 GMT -8
tagged: Mikhail Usenko. time: May 6, 5PM. speech: pasha. notes: - - -. The little thing seemed a little more than uncontrollable, and he sighed as Mikhail reached for it, getting a few scratches and a battering in return. Pasha was relieved, however, when Mikhail made for the door after a brief apology. Good; he had to resist smacking him with his shield at that point, and the cat matter make it out and into carrier with a padlock.
As for his desk, it was a soaking, dripping mess. The papers he'd gotten off, and at least the small potted plant he kept there got a thorough watering, but he still wasn't pleased. The laptop was soaked through and through, so he'd need to get the information extracted and the whole thing replaced. A good dozen or so sheets of paper were also soaked, both top and bottom, so he had to scan them again, sign everything and mail them off.
Damn it, why had he tried to find that man's paperwork?
So Pasha began the task of reorganizing, reworking and general repetition of having to do a job over again. It wasn't like he had anybody waiting at home for him, so he could technically spend days in his office and nobody would care. It was only when another knock came that he paused, glaring over his shoulder for a few seconds.
"Come in." If it was Mikhail, he'd definitely get an earful.
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Post by MIKHAIL USENKO on Aug 17, 2013 22:49:45 GMT -8
tagged: pasha. time: may 6th, 5pm. notes: dis was a short post Mikhail was more or less expecting an earful--that was mostly why he'd come. He knew he'd screwed up, that he should have had a better control on the damn cat, and it was Pasha who had paid for it. His desk had been a dripping mess when Mikhail had left, and while Mikhail was fairly certain that Pasha was efficient enough to have it partially cleared up, it was probably still going to be a mess. There was little he'd be actually able to do, but at the very least he could try.
He opened the door and stepped inside, practically wincing already. He was fairly sure he was going to be yelled at, so he did his best to get the verbal first blow in before Pasha talked over him.
"I'm here to apologize, and offer my help in replacing anything I can." He started, saying it in Russian. It felt like a relief to be able to speak it, and it helped calm him slightly. "I'll do my absolute best to make sure the cat doesn't escape again." There were no excuses offered--only a brief explanation and a confirmation that he was going to try his hardest to prevent it from happening again. Excuses would only annoy him, and he stood there, back straight, wringing his hands and hoping he wasn't going to yell too loudly. |
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Post by PASHA MIKHAYLICHENKO-MOLOTOV on Aug 18, 2013 13:59:08 GMT -8
tagged: Mikhail Usenko. time: May 6, 5PM. speech: pasha. notes: - - -. To say he was unimpressed would have been understating it. He was going to break that thing's neck if it ever found it's way into his office again. Still, silence prevailed for the time being and he began to clean up. A few of the papers had fallen onto the floor, soaked through, and he ended up just trashing them. On top of it all, he shifted everything off his desk and onto the floor, beginning to wipe the heavy wood off.
Of course he was irritated with the knock, but he'd let him in anyways. Just straight out demoting him would've been an option, and he was within power to do so. Hell, he would have if he was a little more hot headed. He eyed Mikhail as he came back in, probably as meek as ever, but didn't say a word as he picked up the last piece of sopping wet paper from the desk.
After listening to Mikhail's little explanation, he seemed unmoved. His fretting didn't help him at all, and with a little bit of thought, he finally nodded to a spot in front of him. "Come here." Russian, because Mikhail had spoken in Russian and he figured language was the single thing they had in common.
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Post by MIKHAIL USENKO on Aug 18, 2013 17:36:08 GMT -8
tagged: pasha. time: may 6th, 5pm. notes: notes. He hadn't said anything. He hadn't even moved as far as Mikhail could tell, for the whole entire explanation. Mikhail had fallen into a nervous silence, fingers fidgeting at his side as he tried not to freak out too much. There was plenty Pasha could be doing. He could be... well, he could be thinking. Realistically that was all he could be doing, because anything else Mikhail would see explicitly.
When Pasha spoke, his stomach rolled uncomfortably. No explanation. No meaning. Just 'come'. An order, and in Russian, and his mind was on goddamn fire trying to figure out what the hell he was going to do. The thought of disobeying didn't cross his mind, and he stepped forward, moving to stand where Pasha had indicated.
Because he was still 'Pasha', even when angry. They were the only two Russians in the headquarters as far as he knew, and that was something that wouldn't change. Even if they were both his superiors, Madaki was still going to be 'Madaki', and Pasha... well, he felt a lot more familiar even though he was far less friendly then Mikhail's own direct superior. It was silly of him to think along those lines considering that Pasha had shown zero interest in being his friend at all, but he found himself thinking like that anyway. |
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Post by PASHA MIKHAYLICHENKO-MOLOTOV on Aug 20, 2013 13:48:13 GMT -8
tagged: Mikhail Usenko. time: May 6, 5PM. speech: pasha. notes: - - -. He supposed that after this, he'd avoid Mikhail for the next couple of days, simply to cool his head over the whole thing. The Mikhaylichenko-Molotov family was bred for aggression and short tempers, after all; it was a tool of survival in a rough world that few knew about. What was a surprise was often where he got his aggression from; his mother had been bigger in the army than his father was, which was strange, considering the climate of Russia at the time.
He eyed Mikhail as he came up to him, meek as ever. He wondered briefly how he ever got into such a position, anyways. His file had said he used to be a hunter, once upon a time, before there was an accident. Reading about the accident would involve digging up yet another file, and he hadn't had time for that yet. How the hell had such a lamb of a man gotten into hunting?
Pasha looked Mikhail up and down for just a second, made a faint sound of disapproval before raising his hand and giving him a firm smack upside the head.
Well, not firm. He was slightly worried about snapping the man in half, so the smack was rather light compared to what he was used to dishing out.
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Post by MIKHAIL USENKO on Aug 20, 2013 14:45:21 GMT -8
tagged: pasha. time: may 6th, 5pm. notes: notes. In a way, he was expecting it. His parents had whapped him on the head more then once growing up when he got out of line. He simply wasn't expecting it from someone who was, at least in one way, his superior. He was his boss, not his parent, and he winced at the smack.
By and large it was unnecessary. He already knew what he'd done wrong, and was doing absolutely everything in his power to avoid it in the future. The cat would just have to say at home, no matter how much it protested. Maybe he would set it up in the little guest room, make it get used to being there, because there was no way it was coming to work.
It wouldn't matter though. Mikhail had already accepted what he saw as the painful truth: Pasha would never forgive him. The only other Russian in the whole branch as far as he knew now hated him. He wasn't going to talk to him, there would be no idle chats, no chances for an actual conversation. He was lost to him, and his body language adjusted accordingly. His shoulders slumped inwards, defensive and depressed all at the same time, and his eyes dropped to the floor as he gave a little nod.
"I apologize." A simple repetition--a confirmation of what he already knew, what he'd already said. |
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Post by PASHA MIKHAYLICHENKO-MOLOTOV on Aug 22, 2013 19:30:29 GMT -8
tagged: Mikhail Usenko. time: May 6, 5PM. speech: pasha. notes: - - -. Pasha was very well aware that it was a patronizing way of going about it, but that was what he intended. If Mikhail was going to be irrisponsable and let the damn cat out, despite it being an accident, then he'd treat him as such until he could prove otherwise. Harsh? Of course. A little too much for the matter, but Pasha had never been one to do any sort of 'light' punishment. The slap had been nothing compared to the shield he often used on others.
The apology didn't move him. Apologies never did. Generally, apologies were barely used in his household back in Russia anyways, both while he was growing up and when he had his own children.
"You may go now." That was all. There was nothing else he needed to say to him, and he turned back to his desk and snuffled a few more papers off. He'd need to dry everything off, and then go home and get more work done there.
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Post by MIKHAIL USENKO on Aug 24, 2013 19:27:25 GMT -8
tagged: pasha. time: may 6th, 5pm. notes: notes. He felt like a child who had just gotten a bad grade and received a firm scolding for it. Logically, he knew that there was little he could have done. He had no reason to suspect anyone would go into his office, and while he'd take every precaution in the future, he couldn't rewrite history. Despite that logical part of his brain telling him it was fine, the rest of him simply felt like a kicked puppy. It was his fault. He'd screwed up and given Pasha more work, and now Pasha hated him. He felt stupid and childish for thinking of it that way, but at the same time, Mikhail was very, very alone. All the people he'd known had been left behind in Antarctica, and for the moment it was simply him and his cat, alone and unable to even get along with one another.
He gave a small little nod. Pasha didn't need his help. He'd probably just make things worse if he tried. There was no point in trying to force it, so he simply let himself back up, away and out of his office. Let Pasha do it, and hope for a chance to make it up in the future. As quickly as he'd come the first time, he left--heading back to his office to fetch the cat.
It was staying at home next time. |
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Post by DANI! on Aug 29, 2013 2:43:14 GMT -8
| | | Finished Thread
You have been rewarded with ONE as this thread is now complete. It has been placed in the archives under the 'finished' sub-board. You are more than welcome to PM fate if this thread is not finished or if you are unhappy/unsatisfied with the amount of fate that has been rewarded. Keep up the great work and keep posting with other members.
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