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last online Apr 26, 2024 1:56:30 GMT -7
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Mar 5, 2020 9:42:38 GMT -7
Post by Deleted on Mar 5, 2020 9:42:38 GMT -7
TW: Violence, murder, gore, possible mention of child abuse, alcohol abuse It was the most horrible time of the year. Christmas. Lúthien hated this holiday, though she blamed it on her biological mother and the useless piece of crap that was her father. Her biological parents were wonderful but she couldn't go back to them. Her life wouldn't allow it as she'd kind of turned it a little dangerous. Besides, they were clearly better and safer without her around. Still, they were the only people on the world she truly cared about deeply. All others she had cared about in the past she'd managed to mess up in some way. Lucky for her that she'd encountered a kid that was already plenty messed up without her help. He'd looked like he needed a way out and she'd been bored. Still, she hated the type of people that were worse parents than her own biological ones so she'd mentally adopted the poor kid as her brother. She'd even bought him a highly inappropriate gift. So as she brought several bottles into the living room of her small apartment she grinned at him, offering the strongest one to him. "You had a good stomach for bad influences, right?" She said as she offered him the bottle. "If you worry about anything being poisoned, just have me drink from it first, touch it first, whatever makes you feel safe." She then grabbed the boring cardbord box that held the book she'd bought him. "Speaking of safe, it's a gift of sorts. Consider your gift back to be every single time you use it in the remainder of your life. I am an agent of chaos and destruction only and well, everything in this box is likely to bring that into the world." She said with a grin as she sat down and took a huge swig from one of the remaining bottles. She wasn't really one for display of emotions whenever she was sober but she'd already had a half bottle before he'd shown up. She needed something to celebrate..... @dmitri
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last online Apr 26, 2024 1:56:30 GMT -7
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Mar 5, 2020 19:26:28 GMT -7
Post by Deleted on Mar 5, 2020 19:26:28 GMT -7
The holidays meant two things to Dmitri, first, he had learned that many people, for whatever reason, seemed to be in a more giving mood. This meant that he and his sisters were able to rake in more money, but it also meant that their father demanded and drank more. He had been in the fighting ring for quite some time now, and had made quite a name for himself. Though, they tended to have less fights around this time. He had been invited to do a holiday thing by Luthien, and acquaintance that he had made, that he seemed to get along with. He liked how he didn't have to put on a face or pretend around her. And she didn't give a crap about if he did something bad or not. Unlike most other adults that he encountered.
He had shown up not too long ago, and was sitting in her living room, he held his left arm close to him, having recently dislocated it. It was fixed now, just a bit tender. He had a few more signs of impact, mostly around his chest, back and sides. The old man had been exceptionally drunk and decided to hit Dashyenka without being provoked. Dmitri lost it, he stood in the way. The damage wouldn't have been as bad, if Dmitri hadn't hit back. But he did.
The woman walked in with a number of alcoholic bottles. This was another reason why he liked her. Se encouraged him drinking. While he would never be drunk around his sisters, or his father, he did enjoy the stuff. She handed him one of the bottles. "Cant get any worse" He said, managing to open the bottle she had handle to him, and raising it in the air, he brought it to is mouth and took a few strong gulps before setting it down. The buzz he felt was better than the pain. He put the bottle down when she handed him a box. Wide eyed he looked at it, almost afraid to touch it. He had vague memories of receiving gifts, but Mikhail wasn't the giving sort. Hesitating, he took the box. She had said that it contained things to bring chaos into the world. He wasn't afraid. Receiving gifts was just bizarre. Taking one more swig from the bottle, Dmitri opened the box and peered inside.
@luthien
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last online Apr 26, 2024 1:56:30 GMT -7
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Mar 13, 2020 13:21:52 GMT -7
Post by Deleted on Mar 13, 2020 13:21:52 GMT -7
Lúthien, despite her very long and elaborate list of flaws, had her good moments. When she liked people, she was a kind and caring individual, almost motherly. It didn't help that christmas just reminder her of the family she'd almost had, which made her bitter and angry. It made her resent happy families and those that made families unhappy. It had her wreathing in a huge ball of chaos and negative emotions but somehow seeing the boy come in looking like total crap had somewhat softened her mood. It wasn't pity or that she felt sorry for him, it was recognising a part of herself. He would fight, no matter what, just as she would. Their reasons were probably different along with their resolve and what they might surrender the fight for, but they both were filled with a darkness that wanted more.
Lúthien had long since given in to the darkness but a small part of her wanted a better life for him. She knew the life she had was one she loved but also one that was very difficult to live for most. Her morality and positive view on the world had died and she only wanted to see it burn. Even though she couldn't put her finger on it, there was something still keeping him tied to this earth for a different purpose than mutually assured destruction. Whatever that was, he would do well to protect it. She had destroyed it without intending to, even if it seemed impossible to avoid. She had cut herself from the only thing that kept her humanity in tact. Now it was made of moments, moments like these when the demons in her mind were sleeping off drunken stupors of violence and her kindness got to sit at the table and play for a tiny bit. It wouldn't take long for them to wake up again. It never did.
She watched as he opened the box, a slight smile playing on her lips. She'd selected a book especially for him, one full of dark and dangerous things. One of her personal favourites. A book covered in thick black leather, held together by spells as the slight slimmer leathery pages held ink infused spells and recepies for poisons so vile that even the man that had sold her the book had seemed disgusted that anybody would consider buying it. Bound in the high quality leather with golden letters were pages of human flesh, the text of tattoos that had clearly been imprinted on the skin of those that later served to fill the book. It oozed a vile energy and every single thing in it was good for only one thing: evil. It was called "Bloodbound shadowmagic" and even in direct sunlight it always seemed covered by shadows that made it hard to read. There was a seal on the front that glistened with one singular pure diamond on it.
After he unpacked it she motioned towards the diamond. "If you smear blood on it, it will ensure none but you can use it or even open it without getting harmed by the protective magic, unless you willingly add them to the registry. The diamond will turn to a ruby and an index will show the names of all you have allowed to use the book. I figured that some secret knowledge of forbidden arts is never a bad thing to have, even if you never use it. The stuff in there is..." She paused and a smile decorated her lips for a moment. "...absolutely vile. I have my own copy and I made one of the more innocent potions. The poor sod turned into a decomposing corpse writing with maggots while his poor mind still had to catch up to the fact he was in the process of dying. It wasn't very pretty." She said it with an almost cold detachment that made it seem like she witnessed it on television rather than made it happen herself. Yet speaking of it, her eyes were flat and empty, as he could glimpse at the assassin that came in play when people needed to be terminated. Just like what she described, it wasn't exactly a pretty sight. While still beautiful and enchanting she was terrifying to behold like this for most people. She then looked at him, the cold fading a bit. "Happy Shit Holiday Dmitri. I hope to be able to celebrate more in good company." And with that, the last traces of the heartless murderer faded from her face and she was just a young woman again, endless pain and anger in her eyes if you knew where to find it. To most at first glance, the most normal girl in the world.
@dmitri
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last online Apr 26, 2024 1:56:30 GMT -7
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Mar 14, 2020 11:08:02 GMT -7
Post by Deleted on Mar 14, 2020 11:08:02 GMT -7
Dmitri had seen many families, over the years, and most of them looked happy on the outside. Many going places together, laughing and talking. He was close to his sisters, but it seemed strange to see the parents with them and joining in the fun. All their father did was demand and expect. But it was exactly that that had helped him become the fighter that he was. Not even his sisters knew that he did it, but it was what he had to do. He had also found that, in the ring, it became a matter of survival.
The consent of presents was new to Dmitri. He knew what it was, because many people would say that their money was intended for someone else, in that capacity. But he, himself, had never received one before. At least from what he could remember. He was sure that his mother had given him some. Or perhaps that was just his overly romanticized thoughts of the past. His mother disappeared early in his life. Starting to feel numbness, he opened the box she had given her. He was shook by her actions. When he came here, he hadn't expected anything from her except for alcohol, and maybe some food. Just before looking in side, Dmitri chanced a glance up, and saw a rare smile on her face. It was rare, but that just meant the small act meant something more.
He opened the box to see a small leather bound book. It looked nice. He pulled the black book out of the box, moving it aside. He flipped through the pages. It was filled with spells and potions. This was great. He felt the pages, knowing that this was a book for the darkest of wizards. A slow malicious smile came over Dmitri's face as he looked from page to page. Skimming a number of spells and potions that could prove to be quite useful to him. There was only one problem with having this book in his position.
He closed the book to fully take in it's cover as the woman began to speak again. ""If you smear blood on it, it will ensure none but you can use it or even open it without getting harmed by the protective magic, unless you willingly add them to the registry. The diamond will turn to a ruby and an index will show the names of all you have allowed to use the book..." Guess she had thought of everything. His biggest concern, was his younger sister, who was also a witch, to get a hold of the book. He wanted to keep her out of this dark world as best as he could. She continued to talk about how she has used the contents of this book and Dmitri's imagination went wild. Perhaps he and his siblings didn't have to just survive this. They could win it. Though he would have to be extra careful with the old man. As he observed Luthien form from the cold woman he knew to one who enjoyed the act of chaos, then into a normal woman, Dmitri took it all in. This was his world. "Happy Shit Haliday" Dmitri responded putting the book on his lap and raising his bottle towards her as a toast. He then took another healthy drink of it. Only to look back at the book, planning what to do next.\
@luthien
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last online Apr 26, 2024 1:56:30 GMT -7
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Apr 1, 2020 6:15:53 GMT -7
Post by Deleted on Apr 1, 2020 6:15:53 GMT -7
His reaction luckily wasn't so awfully enthusiastic that it looked like he was a total psychopath. Pretty much what her own reaction might have been if she'd been given it at the right time of her life. That was something she'd had minor concerns over, as books like this in the hands of those without some semblance of self restraint usually were the fasted way to get behind bars. Bad things could be done with the darkest of magic and she figured that even the possession of a book like that could easily be ground of arrest. Not having ever used it would count in ones favour, but any evidence the book had been in use would probably turn out really bad. Not that the protective enchantments made it particularly easy to figure out if the book had been used. A couple of good curse breakers would most likely still be able to get to the information though. "I suggest avoiding using it too often. It could get you in quite a bit of trouble. I mainly just flipped through it for inspiration prior to packing it. If anybody finds out you both own and use it you risk a ticket to wizarding prison. I don't know if the Russian one is bad but I know the one the UK uses is a straight up nightmare. You don't wanna go there." She said, not yet speaking from experience luckily.
She grinned as he gulped down a sizable amount of liquor and wished her a happy holiday. She nodded slightly. "Same to you. It's probably the best in years." At that point she fell silent, gulping down the burning liquid in order to stop her mouth from running the way it did at times when she drank too much. Memories played in her mind like shadows, taunting her now more than ever. It hurt to have memories and sometimes she wished to forget everything. In the darker corners of her small room she could feel the oppressive weight of the darkness weighing down on her, both like a comforting blanket and a suffocating force of darkness. The balance was essential to keep her from truly lashing out and doing a real ton of destruction on the world. She wanted all to suffer like she did, except for the children. They had not yet fallen and were so often not at fault for the mistakes of the adults. They deserved better, or at least she was clinging to the idea that they did.
Her hand went to her neck where a tiny little locket held an ever smaller fragment of cloth. It was never what it was supposed to be. Just a broken piece of a memory that had been tainted before it ever began. Now it was nothing but cold glistening stone in the morning sun where people pitied the one that kept it clean. She scoffed to herself slightly but she was already planning her next visit. Years upon years would not erase that, or lessen the pull the little town held. She looked at Dmitri sharply. "What is you dream of anyway? Happily ever after? It's a lie. We both know better than to believe in happy families. Fame and fortune are easiest to get through illegal means but you never stop watching your back. Comfort is boring. Staying alive is barely worth the energy. What do you do it for?" She wasn't looking for truth, but perhaps more for a reason not to go stir crazy and attempt to blow up the entire world in an alcohol induced sorrow that only wanted to consume. It was the one thing she knew she was good at. She was beyond others on that point, good at finding reason to destroy more than maintain. Every ongoing flow of change was far more appealing in the destruction it caused than anything else. Nothing good would ever last anyway.
@dmitri
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last online Apr 26, 2024 1:56:30 GMT -7
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May 2, 2020 16:04:25 GMT -7
Post by Deleted on May 2, 2020 16:04:25 GMT -7
Dmitri wasn't equipped with the knowledge of how to properly react when receiving gifts. He knew how to react when receiving what he wanted from a mark. The best way to react in this instance was unclear. If he was with a mark, he would react in a way that would make them happy to give him what they were giving, maybe even try to squeeze just a little more out. That is, if the mark was a sympathetic, bleeding heart. With his eyes glued to the strange book, he took in every last detail. He did read a few of the contents, but the thing he studied the most was the workmanship of the object itself. It was quite fascinating, and he did plan to make it so that only he could use it. He didn't want to give anyone else the opportunity to use it. "I suggest avoiding using it too often." The talk of prison didn't phase the teen too much. Not anymore. But he nodded "I'll be smart about it" He knew he was bright, and for anyone who managed to get close enough to him could clearly see that too.
"Same to you. It's probably the best in years." he gave a rough chuckle as he set the book aside. "Celebrations and holidays don't happen as far as the Krovopuskov line is concerned" The term 'family' just couldn't come out. He cared for his sisters, and was close to them. As close as one could be when keeping secrets. But the term 'family' always seemed to have the connotation that parents were involved. And that man was just his employer, and jailer. He watched her take an amount of alcohol down herself, and he took another, smaller drink. By the amount of liqueur that the woman had brought out, the two of them were going to be quite drunk by the end of this. With that said, Dmitri didn't mid drinking, but things were usually worse for the children when their father was drunk. Seeing the violent, angry man like that, made Dmitri weary of being around his sisters when he was like this.
He sat in comfortable silence, drinking. He closed his eyes and tilted his head back, trying to wash everything away, the dark and the light. "What is you dream of anyway? Happily ever after? It's a lie." he released a sharp breath and looked at the woman. Running his fingers through his hair. He didn't quite know where she was going with this. And the boy wasn't one to open up or be honest about something like his hopes and dreams. As a trained con artist, he was always weary of giving that information to anyone. It wasn't even something he really thought of. He didn't allow himself to dream. If he did, his tormentor could easily take that away too. "What do you do it for?" That was easier. It took him a moment to really think about it. The warmth that he took from the bottle gave him no comfort. He looked her in the eyes, dead and emotionless. "Everything I do is purely to survive. I have no other motives beyond that" He set the bottle down, and threaded his hands through his hair. He wasn't raised to have dreams or think of the future. He was bred to make the man who fathered him money. Still holding his left arm close, he didn't want to agrivate anything from earlier.
@luthien
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last online Apr 26, 2024 1:56:30 GMT -7
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May 9, 2020 10:35:10 GMT -7
Post by Deleted on May 9, 2020 10:35:10 GMT -7
There was always a risk in giving gifts that were obviously illegal and could be used for criminal activity. If she got caught for giving him such a clearly dark and powerful book she most certainly would end up in prison alongside him. She didn't exactly want to end up in prison. Her ties were good enough to meditate murder from any place she pleased. She didn't exactly enjoy murder as it was messy and rarely had people actually suffer but it paid the bills. If she had a personal vendetta it got a lot more messy and her target usually didn't get away that easy. If they died it was more likely by their own hand than hers. She was far too intimately familiar with the pain of living to give people what she considered to be the easy way out. She wasn't too worried he'd make himself her enemy as he had shown wits and intelligence that suited somebody much older than he was. It usually meant people grew up in some form of torment, which made the gift seem sensible to her.
Lúthien chuckled and leaned back. "Celebrations...." She mused as she took a long drink from her bottle. "I was adopted by a wonderful family. I haven't seen them in years. They celebrated but my birth mother knew exactly where I was. I resent her for just ditching me at an orphanage and not showing she cared in any way at all until I turned 18. Showed up out of nowhere for the shortest visit with some dumb fancy necklace. My dad fished it out of the trash. I guess he figured that if I ever changed my mind I could hold on to it." She laughed bitterly. "She must have known where I was for years but she didn't even send a card for my birthday once and it was clear she didn't want to maintain contact. It felt very obligated." The rage was evident at this point in every single fiber of her being. The hatred she felt for her mother burned brighter than anything else. Well, the incubator, as her mother to her was the woman that had chosen and raised her. She looked at Dmitri and shrugged carelessly. "You don't miss out if they don't care about what they celebrate either way." She said, the cold fire of rage still burning in her mind and her body. She hated her mother more than anything in the world and she'd give anything to destroy that woman. It just wasn't all that simple, unfortunately.
Lúthien closed her eyes as she leaned back, feeling the first waves of dizzy wash over her as the alcohol started to kick in. She smiled serenely, allowing the rage to once again fade into the background. Both the rage and the sadness were ever present, but usually in the background more than the front of her being. An eternal line that ran through her life. Survival was simple as he stated and she half nodded in confirmation that she'd heard. "You should probably pick something. Surviving alone doesn't really work in the long run, trust me." She noted, having too much experience with the matter. Ever since she'd ran from her past all she did was survive and it had gotten stale very fast. She lived for other things, her revenge, the thrill of the chaos that ran through her veins, the idea of freedom and the faint memory of the one thing she would have wanted to live for, but couldn't. Perhaps one day she could find what she had lost once again, but until then survival was always in the name of something else. Something that was bigger than the simple avoidance of death that pushed her to do something more than basic survival every single day. "Pride works, but it's not pretty." She then mused as she considered things to live for. "I tried love, but it bit me in the ass. I wouldn't recommend it. It hurts." She continued, although her voice was dead and empty as she mentioned it.
"You could always opt to survive just to piss off other people. That works." She then noted with a chuckle. She felt as though she was either falling or flying, but it didn't bring joy, just emptiness. Still, empty was better than anything she'd felt of late, which meant that she considered it to be bliss of sorts. If nothing else, this state of being was easier to be in than feeling. That had to count for something.
@dmitri
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last online Apr 26, 2024 1:56:30 GMT -7
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Aug 17, 2020 12:38:02 GMT -7
Post by Deleted on Aug 17, 2020 12:38:02 GMT -7
Dmitri understood the danger of the item that she had given him. He was underage, and this was obviously not a legal item. This book could get them both in a large amount of trouble. More like prison for both of them. If he was put into prison, he couldn't protect his sisters from that man. Though, perhaps he could use something in the book against his tormentor. That is, if he played his cards right.
The boy knew that people did special things for national and religious holidays. But they also did special things for personal celebrations, usually anniversaries or celebrating some form of achievement. He remembered the moment that he learned that people celebrated anniversaries of their birth. It was hard to imagine, but he did find himself fantasizing as he drifted off to sleep the night that he learned about it. But as always, he had to come to wake up to the reality of his life. Birthday celebrations would never be a thing, as long as they were with that man. He followed suite of Luthien, and took a long drink himself. After her drink, the woman started to open up about her past. Dmitri drank more. It sounded nice, having any form of parental - adopted or otherwise - who gave a sh*t.
Everyone had their demons, and their struggles in the past. Just because if was different from Dmitri's current torture, didn't mean that it was better or worse than anyone else. Dmitri's fuzzy, but always moving mind picked up the ques of anger and bitterness regarding from her story. "You don't miss out if they don't care about what they celebrate either way." He raised his now half empty bottle and have a dead look to the woman "The holiday's only mean more profit, in expectation and reality" People tended to be in a giving mood around this time. That meant that he and his sisters worked overtime to make what their father expected them to make. What he expected was always some imaginary number. He was rarely satisfied, but got truly violent if the money was low and he was in a bad mood. Doubly so if he had been drinking. Luckily, Dmitri knew how to take a hit. Dmitri took another long drink. He intended to get extremely drunk tonight.
As he drank, Dmtiri let himself sink further into his seat. Here he didn't have to wear a mask. Here, under the influence of the bottle in his hand, he could let his mask melt away. "You should probably pick something. Surviving alone doesn't really work in the long run, trust me." It was true, it wouldn't be long until he was an official adult. He never thought that he would be free from this life, but if there was any chance, it was coming up. Either way, the boy gave a sharp chuckle. Fighting was always an option, but not necessarily the best one. He'd have to do some thinking. But not when he could feel his ever calculating mind succumbing to the dizzy, fuzzy alcohol. "Guess I should"
She talked about love, and Dmtiri closed his eyes, letting his head fall back. "Love is an illusion. I have a girl, but I now she's using me just as much as I am using her" The relationship between he and this girl was purely physical. That was it. He knew it, and she knew it. The closest thing to "love" that Dmitri knew, was familial love, for his siblings. "You could always opt to survive just to piss off other people. That works." She continued and he looked back up with her, noting the dizzy, swimming feeling he felt by the movement. "Now there's a thought. Anything to piss off that old man" He gave a sadistic, dead smile at the woman, his mind springing to life with dark thoughts of tormenting his tormentor.
@luthien OOC: Sorry for the late responce.
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last online Apr 26, 2024 1:56:30 GMT -7
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Aug 27, 2020 13:08:52 GMT -7
Post by Deleted on Aug 27, 2020 13:08:52 GMT -7
Lúthien laughed, rather bitterly at that, when Dmitri mentioned profit. "You have no idea." She said, heavily entertained. "Well, you do. In my linne of business it usually means darker jobs, if any. Too many people get forgiving for a while during the holiday season. Really puts a damper on the whole hired murder business." She took a huge drink of the bottle. It paid well enough that she didn't actually have to worry about paying the bills but it was a problem when she got bored. Getting bored wasn't something that she handled particularly charming most days. It made her more cruel and aggressive towards those she'd been sent to kill. Luckily most of her employers didn't mind the christmas wrapping of added violence since they usually had to pay a rather substantial fee for it. She was hired for her creativity or the fact she could kill without leaving much of a trace. She could make it look like accidents, if they paid enough. She was good at what she did. If she had a soul, it had long since been lost.
Lúthien nodded. "If you plan to run off I can help you get a house somewhere. If nothing else you can squat at the house of one of my clients. They don't mind as much after they're dead." She said in such a cold and flat voice that it sounded almost clinical, if not for the hidden undertone in her voice that was filled with annoyance. Sometimes Lúthien didn't really love her job. By now she couldn't even imagine what else to do. With every bit of money her faith in humanity got less and her sanity slipped a little more. She was balancing on a crossbeam, only waiting for the moment she finally got to fall off. Maybe it wasn't too late for him yet. The alcohol made them both more forward, that much was obvious. Maybe in saving him a part of her soul could still keep existing. Maybe a part of her could be preserved. It was stupid to think that way, but people needed people. She absolutely hated that, but at least he was good enough company.
He knew love, that much was obvious. Or rather, he knew love in her perspective. It wasn't actually real. "I hear that." She muttered, pausing for a moment as her mind dragged her back to the times she thought she'd been happy. It was far better to leave all that behind. There was very little left she cared about. She hadn't even seen her friends from school in many years. Titus, Casimir, Lotten and Bjorn. Perhaps at some point she could get acquainted with them once again. It didn't really seem like the right time while murder was still her livelyhood. Besides, from what she heard most of them had not stuck around long after graduation. She wouldn't really know where to look for them. Oh well, she could write them.
She smiled and laughed a full laugh as he said that pissing of his old man was reason enough to keep going. She clinked her bottle against his, raising it to the moon. "To pissing off parents!" She said and took a very long drink. She definitively loved the idea that her existence was a blight on her biological mother. If that was all she had to live for, it would be enough. If he found the same, that most certainly would also be enough for him to get moving forward.
@dmitri
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last online Apr 26, 2024 1:56:30 GMT -7
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Sept 11, 2020 18:02:00 GMT -7
Post by Deleted on Sept 11, 2020 18:02:00 GMT -7
The woman said that the boy didn't have an idea, but he was sure that he did. Though, there was no reason to fight her on this one. The two worked in the shadows, though they did very different things. He drank when she did. The alcohol helped. He could understand why his father often wound up so drunk. But that man was dangerous when he was drunk. Dmitri, on the other hand, remained calm, calculating. His face drew no emotions, and his mind became harder to read.
"If you plan to run off I can help you get a house somewhere. If nothing else you can squat at the house of one of my clients. They don't mind as much after they're dead." Dmitri took another long drink, looking at the near empty bottle. "Not yet, I cant leave them." meaning his sisters. While he could easily enough take them with him. It would be much harder to hide three than just one. And the old man had enough contacts. They would easily keep an eye out for the kids, to find favor in such a ruthless man. Dmitri didn't find any hope in escape, not until he was a legal adult. Once he was, he could get a job, and try a new way. It was a fanciful dream, he knew, but it was the only thing he could hold onto.
The woman agreed with Dmitri's knowledge of love. The boy thought about the girl he was currently dating. The girl and he had a purely physical relationship. He spent many nights with her, and her family liked him well enough. That is, he make them like him. It never hurt to have friends in similar places. The concept of romantic love was a complete illusion to him. He honestly didn't think it existed. People got spent time with others for their own gain, and nothing more.
It seamed that at least half of his existence was solely to disappoint, aggravate, and frankly, piss off his old man. Luthien laughed at this, and Dmitri cracked a weak smile. He allowed his bottle to click with hers, "To pissing off parents." He agreed with her toast ,and took another drink.
@luthien
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