#pentele post.

@bcmbsight wanted starters.

he's never been to an american ballet before, and frankly, walking in the door of the theatre, he's already unimpressed. pentele scans the ceilings, with their high vaults and poorly painted cherubim catering to the oddity of the american need to steal everything. tiffany gaze shifts to the upper level, curled staircases on either side leading up to the balconies and private booths. there are so many flaws, so many angles in which someone can take advantage of the structures in order to do something quite illegal. the man clicks his tongue, glancing over when he hears footsteps in the otherwise empty foyer, and despite the nitpicking flowing through his brain, he offers to the other person the faintest smile to seem polite. "i'm here to see august?"

it's not unusual for him to find himself outside of the confines of moscow - of russia as a whole when there are things that others have proven incapable of handling. when one agent fails, pentele is sent in after them to clean up the mess left behind, and this is no different.

but it's absolute happenstance. every fragment of the universe aligning in a way that, for once, favors him. at least, that's the way that he'll see it after it settles. after it all connects that maybe, just maybe, there's a chance that something good is still in store for him, even it's, at first, just a glimpse of something so deeply familiar that it's visceral.

it's habit to, once he steps into a place, scan the people inside, and this café is no different, getting the once over that stutters in the corner where a woman - dark hair, bright eyes, faint pursing of her lips as she brings her mug up to them for a sip that strikes him deeply - sits on her own.

he stares, perhaps too long -- definitely too long. before forcing himself to keep moving. but she lingers, staying in every corner of his brain as he approaches the counter and places his order for something simple, something he doesn't even pay attention to but pays for regardless.

when he's eventually given his drink, he takes a chance.

not just a chance to see if maybe he's right, but a chance to cause even more damage. to himself, to a stranger, to whatever the universe has in store for each of them.

stepping up to the table the familiar faced woman is at, he clears his throat, adjusting the strap of his knapsack over his shoulder and almost mutters. "excuse me... ma'am? i'm sorry but..." and then nothing. nothing else can come, because even if it isn't her, that face that is now close enough to see intimately... it breaks him.

@gviltys ♥'d for a valentine's starter !!

@wihlted sent : [ grind ] sender straddles receiver’s lap and starts grinding against them, slow and intentional + "you're the one who told me to let off some steam." / pentele

@straysupe liked for a starter.

he's leaned so far back in his chair that, if he didn't have those feline reflexes, he might've fallen when it squeaks against the floor and almost tips. but between the nature and his boots kicked up on the table nearby, he's balancing himself out just fine while he flicks the rubik's cube layers this way and that, more concerned with it than the task at hand.