#prochnoststarter

He pulls a hand from his pocket and runs it through his hair — soft, fluffy, and getting a bit too long. And although he doesn’t show it, he is on edge. Disquieted. The news of Alexei’s disappearance had hit like a dull punch. But it was never really “ news ” to him. It was an expected headline. Words taken with a nod, a deep swallow, then the abrupt return to his work. And that’s all he’s been doing: working. He’d buried himself in his bedroom and accepted no company; aside from the quick chats with his sister under a canopy of stars and shadows. When he wasn’t in his bedroom, though, he was in his office at the Deadly Seven. Functioning on less than acceptable sleep and an ungodly amount of coffee; simply stewing over his next moves with two different women. 

He’s decided to take a quick break from that tonight, however. After a roll of his extremely hunched forward shoulders that led to several loud cracks, he’d abandoned his paperwork in the office and plopped himself down on the plush, velvety red sitting downstairs. Near the bar. Though, the glass of whiskey he’d acquired  thirty minutes ago has only created a ring of condensation on the table, simply abandoned, as he instead rolled his head back and stared upward towards the ceiling, not giving a lick of attention either to the heavenly bodies that roll and twist their hips on stage. He lips open in want to release a large groan, but he stifles the urge. It's been a long week.

TIME: 3:08 AM, July 23th

LOCATION: Reaper Hideout Kitchens

Closed for @reyesmateo​

Irina walked quietly down the halls towards the kitchens, silently cursing Mateo for introducing her to late night tea and saving some choice words for herself for liking it.  It had been a long day and she wanted nothing more than to just get the kettle going on some chamomile and then make her way back to get some sleep.

The smell of something pleasant wafting in the air made her slow down and pause, her tired brain working to process what exactly it was.  Her first thought was to the first day she stepped into her adoptive guardian’s house, warm and comforting.  Baked goods.  Mateo.

Mateo had just gotten back from the hospital for goodness’ sake.  Irina knew why she was still up.  What was his excuse?  She rounded the corner and put on her best disapproving face.

A small growl escaping Evelina’s lips, she swore she would never attend another of these God-forsaken events in the next lifetime. It had been awful enough that she had to play ‘nice’ to various sycophants who had the guts to talk to one of the famed Reapers. It had been worse that she had to stay for the entire affair, especially since she couldn’t stab any of the individuals that had grated upon her nerves. And now thanks to Isaac fucking Faulkner, she had been grazed by a bullet in her arm as she had practically dragged Anastasia out of the bar and into a back alleyway, knowing that they would be the first ones to be suspected if caught at the scene. 

And so here she was, a shitty bandage in her arms, as she attempted to steep the bleeding. She would get Kalev to look over it at a later time. It was fortunate that she had such a high pain tolerance. That and she was still slightly drunk from the bottle she had stolen in the midst of her escape. For now, she knew that she couldn’t stand being back in the apartment with Tessa’s mothering or the Reaper’s hideout where she would most likely blow off her steam with a knife or even possibly a bullet in someone’s body part. And whilst she had thought she would be alone with her bitter thoughts, it seemed that she was not completely solo in the fringes of the shopping district. The telltale footsteps of someone approaching, she immediately gripped her dagger as she dryly commented, “Come out, whoever you are. I’m sure you couldn’t possibly make my shit mood worse.” Well she would have to see, wouldn’t she?

SUMMER. Tessa scoffed. Once upon a time she had known summer, once upon a time she had been fond of the flowers and butterflies it brought. Nothing about this was truly reminiscent of that feeling, the feeling of freedom and never-ending possibilities. It seemed it was, however, the one day of the year where everybody in Rosnovy preferred lying to themselves. She heard their whispers as she strolled along the crowded streets, they spoke of warm weather and joyous celebration when truly the summer festival was more akin to a powder keg than a well-intentioned party. She was here for appearances only, stepping out of the shadows for one day. If there was anybody who knew how to play the game it was Theresa Martin, a girl who’s whole purpose in life was supposed to be to shine brighter than the moon and stars combined. To blind potential enemies, making them incapable of recognizing the threat they were truly facing. 

An unknown to many, she was able to walk the streets without the notoriety some of the other Reapers would face. No, gazes followed her not because they knew who she was but rather because they were dying to find out. Jewels were glittering on her ears and around her neck. Isaac said they were here to make an impression and so she did. Playing dress-up was after all one of those silly girlhood fancies she had kept with her as she had ventured into the shadows.

Right now she was looking for a drink, just as stiff and crips as the cold ‘summer’ air. Ready to order her usual, a vodka martini, she stepped up to the counter of one of the many stalls offering drinks. Looking at the person next to her, who was waiting as well, she rolled her eyes dramatically.

“I can’t believe everyone is celebrating like it isn’t just another day of wearing three pairs of socks so your toes don’t fall off. But I guess delusion is the true power of all of Rosnovians.” Her accent was faint, still marking her a foreigner to those who listened carefully enough - though people rarely did. “So, what is your poison?”

Oh, there was another reason for her attendance of course. Information. It would be easy on a day like that and even easier when tongues got loosened by the countless drinks people were bound to have tonight. For now, she might as well ease into it. 

Do not interfere the police’s investigation, stay on guard. The instructions were clear, though she loved to ignore them from time to time. Not to actively harm the Reapers or Isaac for that matter, oh no, the Orlova’s used more drastic means to get what they wanted, but to pursuit her own ideas and keep her independence. A soft rebel, perhaps, but Tanya had already sent out her soldiers to investigate, secretly examining the streets while the head remained fairly visible among cherry trees, strolling through the comfort of nature. Just sitting around didn’t fit into Tanya’s idea of deescalating the situation. They weren’t responsible for the shootings, they shouldn’t be punished for it by remaining idle. So off she went wearing her wine red haute couture coat, red lipstick and confidence she’d acquired over the past two decades. 

Illusions formed around her like a protective shield. The vision among the trees remained distorted, twisted. Eyeing her entourage sitting on benches twenty meters away Tanya turned towards the intruder and tilted her head. “I would’ve arranged a small picnic for us if I knew you’d join me today. After yesterday’s drastic turn all we can do is prevent more victims and cheer up a little.”

Theo nervously gripped their fingers together as they advanced past the multitude of stores within the shopping district to move towards Bechk’s Pages. Please, please let them avoid any sort of confrontation and God forbid — a possible Reaper in their path. Whilst any day, Theo would have stayed back in the Vetrova Mansion to bypass all the conflict, they had received a notification that the newest shipment of books had come in, which meant they had to come into the city to receive their order. Their eyes carefully analysing their surroundings as they continued their way over the cobblestoned pathway, for anything out of the ordinary, Theo accidentally tripped over a fallen branch, her figure landing in a heap across the nearest person. Great, just what they had tried to avoid! A small yelp escaping their lips, and a bright flush appearing upon Theo’s cheeks, they tried to avoid eye contact with the other as they mumbled, “Apologies, I didn’t see where I was going.” Now to try and steer clear of any challenges, especially considering what had happened in the past few days.

WHERE: The Summer Festival, main square

WHEN: July 1st 2020, 11am

As far as July weather goes, Masha’s not seen much better. The bitter cold of Rosonovy was one of life’s constants. She’s grateful; it’s always helped keep outsiders out. Today though, she thought it was unlikely that anyone could resist the city. The festival bled colour onto the streets of central Rosnovy, red, gold and vibrant. Masha understood what those who complained about the day missed - there’s power in tradition, and tradition in power. And so there was a warm smile on her face as she stood in the middle of the square, the surrounding cameras perfectly focussed on her every breath, hypnotised. 

“So it’s my pleasure as a Vetrova to put this festival on,” she continued, a practiced elegance to her voice, “and my delight to see you all here”. She’d been talking for a few minutes now, answering questions with an air easy confidence. Rounds of the relevant stalls had been made, amateur musicians applauded, thank-you flowers accepted. “Rosnovy is precious to me. Today is about celebrating our past and being together as one large cемья. Family.” Well, that was one way of putting it. Her smile widened, a white flash of teeth. “Thank you. Enjoy this peaceful day, please enjoy.”.

The cameras turned away from her in an instant, slid onto the next speaker - a singer? an auctioneer? - at her command. The crowd shifted; civilians subconsciously keep out of her way and after a morning of doing That, she was damn glad they did so. She slipped to the back and watched on, eyes smoothly travelling across the crowd, (eyes avoiding her gaze in return.) In truth, Masha really did admire the people of Rosnovy. They were resilient - and to more than just the cold.

when gabriel reaches out to touch her shoulder, it’s out of reflex than it is anything else. recognition is lost on him - he only sees a flash of blonde hair amidst a large, angry crowd, and it is enough for gabriel to sprint towards the woman. he doesn’t need to know who she is to act on instinct or teleporting out of danger. as fingers graze the woman’s arm, they are suddenly blinked out of existence, then rapidly blinked in miles away at the edge of water. 

it’s only as gabriel’s eyes focus on the woman before him that he recognizes just who he’s teleported out of the crowd. “if it isn’t the little reaper princess.” he muses, the tone almost mocking as he straightens. it seems as if this tiger princess has sunk her claws in him - could he blame her - and ever since her first attempt in bedding him, gabriel just hasn’t been able to shake her. if there’s one thing to be entertained by, it is her perseverance; one that mirrors his own in similar adventures. 

“getting yourself in trouble, are you?”