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Post by PASHA MIKHAYLICHENKO-MOLOTOV on Nov 4, 2013 19:52:28 GMT -8
tagged: Mikhail. time: May 9th, 10AM. speech: pasha. notes: - - -. A leave of absence the day before was enough to make most of the people who worked with him raise a brow. He dragged himself into work rain or shine, sick or in good health. The only thing that would stop him from going to work was severe injury, and everyone knew how well that went. A stubborn man would not be confined to the bed, and he’d be back before long.
So people were expecting for Pasha to come in with at least a cast. When he came in utterly fine, looking untouched in every way, people raised eyebrows. Very few knew of Anastasia, realistically. It had been a very quiet deal between the Impedio Society, her mother and himself. There were no questions, of course. Nobody really questioned Pasha unless it was with business matters. He wasn’t exactly friendly enough with anybody in the society to have casual, water cooler talk with.
His office was untouched, as it should have been. He was still a little mad about the whole soak that his papers had gotten, but he’d printed and signed new ones in short order. There had been work from yesterday that he neglected, and he sat down in the large chair to think things over for a second.
He’d dropped Anastasia off for a preliminary training session, just to see where she was. He had confidence that she’d do well; she’d been raised by a good friend of his, after all. Still, suddenly having to care for someone again after so long was odd. Magnus, Johan and Konrad had all been grown and able to care for themselves by the time he left. If anything did happen, either Magnus or Anya would likely take care of it. For Anastasia, he wasn’t sure how levelled she actually was.
Pasha reached over, picking up a thick tomb. Maps, outlines of history, important symbolism and figures… It was a very brief overview that he’d long since learned by heart. But explaining it to Anastasia would be the hardest part.
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Post by MIKHAIL USENKO on Nov 8, 2013 11:03:36 GMT -8
It was a rare and strange day when Pasha Mikhaylichenko-Molotov took a day off. Everyone knew how odd that was. The stories of his time in Russia had been whispered among the few transfers from the country, and even those rumors had made it quite clear--the number of days Pasha had taken off in his entire career could be counted on one hand, and each of those had come with some kind of life-threatening injury. Pasha did not take sick days. Pasha had to be forcibly removed from work.
And yet he had. He'd taken a day off, and he'd not come in, and it seemed like everyone in the damn building had raised an eyebrow at the odd occurrence. Even Mikhail, all the way down in the vaults, had heard that Pasha hadn't come in to work through the local gossip trail. Of course there was no gossip explaining why, because no one knew, but it had provided an interesting and useful point for him.
An apology was in order. A real one, not a mumbled one. He'd already picked out just the thing, found at an estate sale he'd visited for work. He'd been there to acquire a small vase that was rumored to be haunted, but actually simply attracted any metal objects in the area when nothing was watching it. He'd acquired it, and then immediately after a giant portfolio had gone up for sale--world war two tank schematics, courtesy of an older german collector.
Mikhail had never been terrible interested in that period of history more then any other, but it was relatively common knowledge that Pasha was. It seemed like that was the first thing most people knew about him--that he was an avid fan of the world wars.
So Mikhail had picked up the giant oversized portfolio, stuffed with nazi tank diagrams, and then he'd headed back to his home before checking them all out. They were authentic, as best he could tell, and interesting even to him. He'd tucked them all away neatly, and he'd simply waited for the right moment.
The day after Pasha had taken a day off seemed like the right moment. He gave it a good hour before he collected the folder, heading to Pasha's office and knocking once. Nice and polite, and hoping Pasha wouldn't send him away the moment he saw him.
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Post by PASHA MIKHAYLICHENKO-MOLOTOV on Nov 8, 2013 11:22:52 GMT -8
tagged: Mikhail. time: May 9th, 10AM. speech: pasha. notes: - - -. Everything in his office was left in good order. Then again, it was near impossible to make it anything but; it was sparse at best, his home office looked a tad cozier. As for work, he tried to keep it as impersonal as possible. There was really zero reason for him to have pictures of family or anything personal sitting around aside from his mug. Attachment to a space that was only temporarily his seemed impractical at best.
He’d expected to be left alone that day, in all honesty. People knew he’d been away the day before, and he suspected that people were aware that he was also back. Nobody would bother him, at least not in the foreseeable future. He had nothing for them that they could’ve wanted, and the piles of papers and envelopes on his desk were from other places, definitely not internal.
Pasha was going through a stack of envelopes, ripping the tops open with a small knife and scanning through when he heard a knock on his door. He didn’t even look up from his work, though he did sigh faintly at his relative peace being disturbed.
”Come in.”
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Post by MIKHAIL USENKO on Nov 8, 2013 12:13:16 GMT -8
Mikhail let himself in carefully, giving Pasha a thin smile. he could never be sure how Pasha was feeling. Some people were open booked, some people were more vague about it, and Pasha was a closed book on a remote island under the cover of fog. If anyone could figure out what he was thinking, they were clearly capable of reading minds, because Pasha's expression of emotions seemed to swing between 'annoyed' and 'pissed off' and nothing else. He was a wall, an impenetrable fortress, and in a way that only made it even more important for Mikhail to get a better understanding of how he operated.
He stepped inside, the portfolio hanging in front of him. From the outside, there was nothing--no sign of what was within, beyond that it was big and probably several large sheets of paper.
"I hope I'm not interrupting." Which he wasn't, because Pasha hadn't been on a call, no one was there, and he looked liked he was in the middle of opening his mail, of all things. "I just found this at an estate sale and thought you might be interested in it." And by 'thought', he meant 'was pretty damned sure'. In fact he'd have bet his job on Pasha being interested in the contents of the portfolio, and he was hoping it would smooth over the mess earlier.
PASHA MIKHAYLICHENKO-MOLOTOV | MAY 9TH, 10AM |
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Post by PASHA MIKHAYLICHENKO-MOLOTOV on Nov 8, 2013 15:00:05 GMT -8
tagged: Mikhail. time: May 9th, 10AM. speech: pasha. notes: - - -. Of all people, he hadn’t expected Mikhail. Actually, he’d entirely expected the only other Russian thus far to stay away from him after the cat incident that he’d yet to or will ever forget. The soaked through and crumple-dried papers still sat in the recycling bin, unremoved so far and hopefully getting out to avoid clutter soon. If Mikhail didn’t have any business with him and simply wanted to come by to say hi, then he was rather badly mistaken if he was expecting a warmer welcome.
What Mikhail was holding caught more of his interest than the person did, but that wasn’t saying much when it came to Pasha. For a guy whose job was making sure the world didn’t go up in flames and monsters, he didn’t have much interest in people. Mikhail, for the time being, was met with an indifferent silence as he greeted him.
Ah, so he was here about whatever it was that he was holding. From the looks if it, the thing was old. Yellowing papers stuck out the ends and the binder that it was all kept in looked about ready to fall apart. Pasha was definitely not the one to go to about artifacts, however.
”I’m not the one you’re looking for if you need help with an artifact.” No matter how ‘interesting’ the artifact was, unless it was from significant battle, he didn’t really need to know.
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Post by MIKHAIL USENKO on Nov 8, 2013 16:12:22 GMT -8
It wasn't an artifact--although Mikhail had actually checked to make sure. He shook his head once, stepping inside and lifting the portfolio up a bit.
"It's not one, actually. I was buying an artifact at an estate sale, a little auction, and they had this as well and I thought you might be interested." He cleared his throat carefully. "The old man was a bit of a collector, all sorts of stuff. There's nothing society about it, but..." But Pasha would be interested--he was certain of that, but he'd already said it once, and nerves were ruining his ability to speak clearly on the subject.
He waited for Pasha to acknowledge it, then lifted up the portfolio onto the desk, flipping it open to show the first few things. He showed them without comment, confident Pasha would recognize them. The writing was all German, and Mikhail couldn't speak a word of it. There were several though--at least fifteen different blueprints and diagrams, all rather old and musty, dating back to various stages of world war two. It was obvious that it wasn't a single set to begin with, but had instead been collected and stored together for ease of use.
PASHA MIKHAYLICHENKO-MOLOTOV | MAY 9TH, 10AM |
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Post by PASHA MIKHAYLICHENKO-MOLOTOV on Nov 8, 2013 16:25:23 GMT -8
tagged: Mikhail. time: May 9th, 10AM. speech: pasha. notes: - - -. Pasha looked down at the portfolio as it was put in front of him; dark navy canvas with straps to hold it over a person’s shoulder. It was a very general use one, looking old, and he could see the frayed papers that stuck out of the edges. Mikhail, on the other hand, talked a little too much for just wanting to show him something. Something that had nothing to do with the Impedio Society, on top of all that. Now what the hell could it have possibly been?
He nodded vaguely at it, and Mikhail flipped it open to reveal a worn paper binder. Underneath that was something a whole lot more interesting, and he raised a brow as the old, crumbling pieces were put in front of him. He recognized it immediately; the panther tank, used in WWII by the Germans to counter Soviet tanks. How many had been produced? Around 4800, if his memory served him.
The second one was also familiar, the Panzerkampfwagen II, used to fill in the gap when the IV couldn’t be made on time. There were exploded views, plans, interior and exterior schematics… Various building plans, it seemed, and he leafed through a couple more where Mikhail left off.
He didn’t make a sound or a comment as he looked through them all, sparing them brief glances and making quick mental notes of them. They seemed authentic enough as it was, though his interest didn’t show whatsoever on his face. Most of them were German tanks, with one or two Soviet tanks littered in there, but none from anywhere else. It wasn’t bad at all, all things considered.
Pasha finally glanced back at Mikhail. ”It’s very interesting.” A pause before he spoke again. ”How did you know I had an interest in tanks?”
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Post by MIKHAIL USENKO on Nov 8, 2013 16:48:30 GMT -8
Pasha wasn't showing any signs of interest, but the fact that he hadn't told Mikhail to get out had to count for something. Mikhail was simply working under the assumption that Pasha probably wasn't very good (or interested in) showing emotions, and it took an extreme case to draw any out. What he was showing might very well have been intended as polite interest. It was honestly and genuinely hard to tell with Pasha, but Mikhail was being forced to operate on several assumptions every time he so much as spoke to the man.
And when he finally admitted they were interesting, it was like a little victory dance. He'd been right. Pasha did enjoy that sort of thing, and he'd been right to buy them for him. He smiled a tiny bit, even if he did his best to control his emotions, to keep it to a minimal level to avoid putting them off.
"It's common knowledge around the office--I forget who mentioned it. You were--are--in the Russian military, and are interested in World War Two." And apparently that was the majority of what people knew about him, because Pasha only rarely spoke about himself.
PASHA MIKHAYLICHENKO-MOLOTOV | MAY 9TH, 10AM |
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Post by PASHA MIKHAYLICHENKO-MOLOTOV on Nov 8, 2013 16:57:40 GMT -8
tagged: Mikhail. time: May 9th, 10AM. speech: pasha. notes: - - -. He hadn’t promptly kicked him out of his office, so that definitely meant something positive. The tanks were generally right up his alley, and having authentic schematics for such old things did win him over to some degree. Of course, there were plenty of scanned and copied schematics online, but that wasn’t the same as having a piece of yellowed, weather-aged paper right in front of you. It had been a small miracle that Mikhail was able to get them for anything less than a small fortune.
As for his military background, apparently that was all the office or Mikhail knew about him. Good, better keep it that way. If he wasn’t talking to a person about work, he was talking to them about various historical wars and battles, centering mainly around the second world war. If Mikhail could hold a discussion with him about it, then he’d be extra impressed. But not too much, of course.
”Hm…” A little sound of acknowledgement, flipping the large pages back to the beginning and starting to flip through once more, slower this time. ”I’m impressed that you were able to procure these, from an auction no less.” Which was one of the very few times Pasha was impressed with anything at all.
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Post by MIKHAIL USENKO on Nov 8, 2013 18:12:52 GMT -8
Impressed. Pasha was impressed. A part of him told him that it was a bad thing--that Pasha had low standards for him--but the other part of him felt like his proverbial tail was wagging. After all, he'd already known that Pasha thought badly of him. He'd ruined things. He'd caused him more work.
And now, even if just a bit, Pasha approved. Even if it was something stupid and menial and only tangentially related to his actual job, it still meant a lot towards his self-perception to hear praise from Pasha, even if it wasn't your standard praise.
"I don't think many people knew about it. Most people don't go to estate sales for things like that. They're yours if you want them--I don't have the space at the apartment for papers that large to be stored safely." And it was common enough knowledge--or perhaps he was just guessing, even Mikhail wasn't clear--that Pasha had a larger place. He actually knew nothing about it, but it made sense--Pasha was a second, so it went without saying he'd have a large place.
PASHA MIKHAYLICHENKO-MOLOTOV | MAY 9TH, 10AM |
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Post by PASHA MIKHAYLICHENKO-MOLOTOV on Nov 8, 2013 19:02:31 GMT -8
tagged: Mikhail. time: May 9th, 10AM. speech: pasha. notes: - - -. Well, his thoughts on Mikhail’s talking too much remained the same, but he was a little more open to accepting that in small doses after being handed the schematics. He’d have to take a more decent look at them later, and he’d probably spend the first few nights poring over them before finally memorizing the vast majority and archiving them in his own vaults.
Finally, after a couple more seconds of giving everything cursory glances, he closed up the portfolio. He looked… pleased? If it could even be called that. He wasn’t smiling, and his expression had barely moved at all, but he looked a little less exhausted about the whole state of affairs. Perhaps a little more welcoming, and maybe like he wasn’t about to frown at any second.
”Well, thank you.” He’d make sure it was stored safely and preserved, in that case. He had clear folders for such things, and perhaps he’d frame one or two of the nicer looking ones. ”I appreciate the gift.”
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Post by MIKHAIL USENKO on Nov 9, 2013 12:01:57 GMT -8
Mikhail was the sort of person who was both very good on his own, and very lonely at the same time. If he had chosen it, he could have stayed on his own, isolated and quiet, for weeks at a time. He could go for days without feeling the need to speak to another human being without feeling any ill effects at all.
The problem was that he hadn't chosen that. There was no fall back, no 'I could talk to anyone if I wanted'. Mikhail was alone, isolated and strange to those who worked at the Los Angeles base. His options for friends outside the Society were slim, and even without the society, he'd yet to make any real friends. He'd gotten to know a few people, but he couldn't call any of them his friends. He was too isolated for that, too busy drowning in his own misery and regret. The fact that he hadn't chosen his current isolation meant it was a struggle for him, and he found himself feeling lonely more often then not.
Pasha, as cold and emotionless as he seemed, was perfect. He seemed to have similar needs to Mikhail at the best of times--a little bit of social interaction and little else--and they seemed to have a bit in common, preferring solitude and books (or newspapers, in Pasha's case). Plus, there was the undeniable fact that they were two of the only people on base who spoke fluent Russian, and while Mikhail had grown up speaking both English and Russian, he found the latter to be far more relaxing.
So he carefully steeled himself and cleared his throat, trying to work up the nerve. "I thought you might want to go out for coffee sometime after work. There's an excellent little tea shop I found on my walk--they do excellent black coffee." If there was one other thing he knew about Pasha, it was that he went through so much coffee he might as well have bought his own forest.
For once he didn't stutter either. He'd mentally prepared himself for it, but what came after he had no way to prepare.
PASHA MIKHAYLICHENKO-MOLOTOV | MAY 9TH, 10AM |
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Post by PASHA MIKHAYLICHENKO-MOLOTOV on Nov 9, 2013 16:31:07 GMT -8
tagged: Mikhail. time: May 9th, 10AM. speech: pasha. notes: - - -. Pasha had more or less redirected his attention to the various papers scattered on the desk, closing the portfolio and leaning it beside the heavy wood to take home later. He trusted Mikhail to know to let himself out at that point, because a little bit of faith had been restored in him actually finding out what he liked. Apparently, being a tank fanatic was one of the few things people knew about him.
He wondered briefly if he should go check up on Anastasia, but decided against it. She was a very independent girl, just like her mother. He didn’t feel the need to go baby her anyways; he wasn’t that sort who’d breathe down a child’s neck to make sure they didn’t get scratched up. Hell, he was the one who usually scratched them up and made them toughen themselves.
Mikhail cleared his throat, and he looked up from the stack of mail to find him still there. He raised an eyebrow again, a sort of silent ‘what do you want?’ Pasha was very brief and curt at best, if he finished business at any one place, then he’d move on. Mikhail still stood there, looking for something to say.
Coffee. He wanted to go for coffee? He just stared at him for a second, curious as to if this was his take on humour of some sort. ”…oh.” He paused again, taking a second. Usually, his life went from home to work and then back, with little outside of that. He didn’t have time for anything else.
”Well, I'd be fine with that, if you think it would be appropriate.” Coffee sounded alright, in Pasha’s words. He didn’t exactly know when he’d be free, so he supposed it was whenever, and then if he got called back in, that’d be the end of that.
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Post by MIKHAIL USENKO on Nov 9, 2013 17:10:57 GMT -8
The 'oh' was a mystery. Was the Oh good? Was the Oh bad? Should he have been backing away quickly rather then standing there awkwardly, waiting for an answer from Pasha. At the very least Pasha didn't drag it out--he didn't make Mikhail wait forever, standing there like an idiot. He simply paused, then moved on into what Mikhail was fairly sure was a 'yes'.
He was pretty sure it was. It sounded like a yes, and at no point had Pasha said 'no'. He'd said he was fine with that, and Mikhail gave a short little nod. "My schedule is free, so any time you want a coffee, I'll show you where it is." Free? No, he should have said his schedule was 'open', and he mentally chastised himself for the poor choice of words.
Even so, it was time for him to go. He'd already stayed longer then he should have, and while it had paid off, Pasha was a busy man who had little time to wait around. He gave a little nod, taking a step towards the door. "I'll see you later." Which he should, in theory, because they worked at the same place.
And then it was off back to work.
PASHA MIKHAYLICHENKO-MOLOTOV | MAY 9TH, 10AM |
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Post by PASHA MIKHAYLICHENKO-MOLOTOV on Nov 9, 2013 19:22:04 GMT -8
tagged: Mikhail. time: May 9th, 10AM. speech: pasha. notes: - - -. Apparently Mikhail’s schedule was free, which meant they probably weren’t giving him enough to do. He just nodded at him anyways, but figured it was because he was fairly new at the place. Oh well, not everybody was practically loaded in papers as he was. ”I’ll see you later on, then.” Was the only thing he offered before Mikhail left, and he didn’t think much more of it. He highly doubted that coffee was an option any time soon, anyways.
It was only reaffirmed when, not more than thirty minutes after Mikhail left, he was called out of the office to do a debriefing on another creature thought to be nearby. Or multiple creatures, actually. Unfortunately, not much had been on file and he was forced to go on what little he was given in a file not as thick as his smallest finger. It wasn’t saying much when his usual files were a good two inches.
The portfolio with the schematics didn’t go forgotten, though, which probably was the one reason when, during the break, he thought about Mikhail. He talked a little too much, and there had been that one cat incident that he’d yet to forget and will likely never forgive him completely for… Handing him a series of tank schematics had undoubtedly softened him a little, though.
Well, he was getting an hour break before he had to go back to the briefing, so he better make it quick. Pasha strode at a brisk pace down to the vaults, where Mikhail’s office was. He supposed that he didn’t have to knock on the door, but politeness and a degree of professionalism prevailed and he did so, anyways.
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Post by MIKHAIL USENKO on Nov 10, 2013 9:59:38 GMT -8
Mikhail realistically shouldn't even have had an office. He was too junior in the department to have anything more then a cubicle, but the fact that he'd had a magic cat running around had necessitated that he be moved into an enclosed space. It was small and cramped, neatly organized but still managing to overflow with artifacts. Most of them were uninteresting, inert or so magically weakened that what they could do was minimal at best. He had twenty-eight pieces of an enchanted chess set lay out in neat rows, still missing the last few pieces required to make the artifact do whatever it did. He had a whole selection of books neatly stacked to one side, and he was hunched over the desk when Pasha knocked, rousing him from his report.
He quickly flipped it shut, making his desk look slightly more presentable before he headed to the door, opening it to find Pasha outside. He was surprised--he hadn't expected Pasha to bring up his offer at all, and he immediately dismissed the thought. He probably needed something. It was far too early for him to want coffee, wasn't it?
"Ah, Pasha. What can I get you?" Pasha didn't deal in artifacts, but there was a certain amount of crossover in the reports when a mission was required to attain a specific one.
PASHA MIKHAYLICHENKO-MOLOTOV | MAY 9TH, 10AM |
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Post by PASHA MIKHAYLICHENKO-MOLOTOV on Nov 10, 2013 16:58:16 GMT -8
tagged: Mikhail. time: May 9th, 10AM. speech: pasha. notes: - - -. Everything that Pasha did ran on a certain timeline in his head, ticking back and forth from one thing to another but always remaining somewhat according to plan. If things changed radically, he wanted to know. Reports and paperwork were the norm and could be shuffled around, while missions could not. There had been a slight hitch that day, but an hour break was an hour of time in which he couldn’t do anything of great importance, so a coffee break it was.
Mikhail answered, and he looked like he wasn’t expecting him at all. Pasha only briefly glanced over him into his office, and it was cramped at best. Some of it was organized; he could see books, and pieces of a very old looking chess set, but he didn’t care much for it. Artifacts weren’t his division, so he didn’t deal with it unless his own shield needed reworking of some sort.
”I’m free for about an hour. You said you wanted to go get some coffee?” Pasha was a generally honest person; lying didn’t sit well with him when he could just tell them off and be done with it. The same went with promises, he supposed. If he didn’t want to do something, then he’d go ahead and tell them. Coffee wouldn’t hurt, even if it was with someone else.
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Post by MIKHAIL USENKO on Nov 11, 2013 10:33:57 GMT -8
Free for an hour. Mikhail wasn't expecting Pasha to come at all, let alone so soon, but he could roll with it. He nodded quickly, pulling back and heading to his desk, tidying a few of his active pieces of work away quickly. "Just a second." He called, making sure that any sensitive paperwork was in its proper position before grabbing his wallet, shoving it in his pocket, and heading out after Pasha. At the door he grabbed the little bag he carried, letting his artifact silently catalog any other artifacts they encountered in the city for future research.
He locked the office door behind him before nodding down the hall. "There's this nice little cafe--tea, coffee, all that stuff. Tastes less.. disgustingly burnt compared to starbucks." Which Mikhail had grown to despise. He loved tea, but the teas he had gotten from Starbucks before he had given up had all tasted terrible. "I really can't stand all the chains. This one is just a couple running it I think." Or he thought it was a couple--but it was actually simply a male owner with a similarly aged female manager who worked mornings when he came through. "I'll show you."
PASHA MIKHAYLICHENKO-MOLOTOV | MAY 9TH, 10AM |
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Post by PASHA MIKHAYLICHENKO-MOLOTOV on Nov 29, 2013 11:39:17 GMT -8
tagged: Mikhail. time: May 9th, 10AM. speech: pasha. notes: - - -. There were two things that Pasha lived off of; vodka and coffee. There was the occasional water when he really had neither of the original two on hand, but his liver seemed to put up with everything fine. Russians were a different breed, after all. He’d really go wherever; usually it was all office coffee anyways, and that tasted horrible in the first place.
Pasha just nodded, following behind Mikhail, which was probably a strange sight as it was. He had no idea where this was, after all. As long as the coffee was passable and Mikhail didn’t have a secret super-talkative side, then he’d be completely fine with going for a coffee in the one hour he did have off. He was pretty sure the reports would come in like an avalanche and he wouldn’t have a spare moment for days to come from then on.
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Post by MIKHAIL USENKO on Nov 29, 2013 20:35:37 GMT -8
Mikhail was already starting to amass a cache. There was really no other word for it. A whole cupboard of his kitchen was filled with nothing but tea. Well, technically there was a few small things of coffee just in case he every had anyone over, but the vast majority of it was tea. He loved the variety, the different flavors, and the fact that there were not one, but two tea shops within walking distance of his house was fantastic. One was a bit more standard, close to a Starbucks, and one dealt specifically with specialty tea varieties.
Technically, he was taking Pasha to the third. It was small and off to the side, but not much of a walk from the Impedio Society base. Most of the customers looked like businessmen from the various offices, stopping by on their break. The line was minimal, and Mikhail picked himself out the Samurai Chai Mate & Ayurvedic Chai Blend. It was spicy in a way that teas often weren't, flavorful and warm, and he found his hands hugging the cup as he settled down at a table for two. They actually served in proper mugs if you said you were drinking it there, and Mikhail certainly was. He'd make short work of it.
For the most part, he hadn't forced any smalltalk on Pasha. Mikhail wasn't terribly fond of smalltalk to begin with, but he was still vaguely curious about Pasha himself. What he knew about the man were fragments, bits and pieces that remained unconnected to each other. He knew that Pasha liked tanks, and had an interest in World War Two. He knew that he was Russian, and had occupied some relatively high post within Russia. He had also heard rumors, among other things, that he was actually Spetsnaz, and for the moment that was what interested him.
"You're quite the mystery around the office." Mikhail began, sitting up straight in his chair. "There's rumors that you're involved with spetsnaz." He said it casually, as if they were discussing soccer teams, not special forces.
PASHA MIKHAYLICHENKO-MOLOTOV | MAY 9TH, 10AM |
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