Local Russian Cryptid

“God, what a fucking mood. You wanna talk about it?”

“No.” Yes.

"Vibe check!" smooches face

“The audacity! The every loving SMOOCHING! The INSULT! You think I need your affection? That I need love?” He scolds, and after a moment of silence, he shuffles close to Aeleus. Thin arms wrap around his midsection in a light squeeze.

"Everyone wishes I was dead-"

“Short answer: yes. Although it takes a lot of power to make sure we both come out of there. The actual travel time may be mere seconds, but if I were to let go, or stop mid teleportation, we may be stuck in the space between worlds. The place that catches our attention from the corner of our eyes, but when we look it’s not there. That’s a dangerous place to dwell in for too long.”

Thankfully, Gavrill’s profession has likely blessed him with a lot of patience. He needs it to listen to her. Lilli’s eyes light up when he puts on the necklace and her smile is nothing short of brilliant.

“Did I do it right? To get you the right one?” Is there a right one? She doesn’t know. The St. Christopher medal, at least, has to be right. It is her own very personal one and if it has kept her safe, it will keep him safe as well.

“Yeah, you did it right.” He gave a slight nod as he looked past Lilli for a split second. Sure, he could dive into all sorts of technicalities. The properties of the stone, the energy that could have arrived from the witch Lilli bought it from, how even the chain could hold some significant meaning. But to Lilli, all those details meant nothing.

“All right. So.” Lilli settles in for her explanation, still beaming from ear to ear. Gavrill’s confusion does nothing to diminish her excitement.

“I worry about you, yes? You know this.” Maybe too much at some times. “Anyway, I was at this outdoor market and there was this very lovely lady there who was selling just the most beautiful gemstones. And she is a witch and I thought, wait, Gavrill is one of those.”

“So she was telling me about all these pretty stones and that they mean something and I asked her which one will keep you safe. She pointed out this black obsidian stone and said something about direct intentions and curses and things? I do not really understand but she said it would keep you safe. And I thought, well, you are always wearing black and you like black things so even if you are not that kind of witch it’s still pretty, yes?”

“But then I worried about what she said with the indirect and the curse-y parts and thought ‘Is that enough? Because what about all the other things?’ So I took some pliers and put my own St. Christopher medal on there to help keep you safe for everything else.” 

And she breathes at last.

He listens. Bright eyes locked on Lilli and dark brows furrowing deeper into a crease that his brow may never smooth out again. Her monologue was nearly mind-numbing, so many little details that Gavrill wouldn’t care for. Yet he found himself invested-- oddly enough.

Then, at last, it’s silent. Gavrill blinks as if coming out of a trance and looks to the necklace. Carefully he reached up and pulled the necklace over his head, and let the stone and pendant rest against his chest.

     “Gavrill Vladimirovich Sokolov, if anything happens to me permanently, you are to allow me to finally rest without bringing back my ghost. Do whatever you will with my bones after that.”

His response gets a real, genuine squeal from the blonde and quite eagerly she drops a necklace into his hands. Well, if one can call it a necklace, anyway. It is more a black obsidian stone and a silver medal depicting St. Christopher hung from the end of a leather cord than it is an official necklace with a setting and a chain.

“Okay! You may open!”

Eyes flash open and shift into a scrutinizing glare at the object in his hands. He held the chain in one hand and rose it into the air to inspect the medal in the light.

     “What do you need those for?”