#rnortify

                  Vera took calculated steps, counting each one in his wake. 6...7...8...9...10. He sighed to himself, contradicting the images in his mind--he really wasn't in the mood for this today, but it seemed that even if he wanted to step outside of the cycle, such a thing would be impossible. After another six steps, he found himself at a crack. With a little groan, barely audible since he was concentrating, Vera began to walk backwards, counting once again--but this time, he bumped into someone. Unable to simply stop, he maneuvered around the obstacle, stopping only when he reached the number ten. Afterwards, Vera took a deep breath; standing still to try and lessen the constant mumblings inside his head. "Oh--" He muttered, looking up to the person he had previously bumped into. "Sorry...About that." No, that didn't sound right. "Sorry." He finished again. "Sorry." 

                               The manmade tool sat in the cafe, heavy rain outside. He was sipping on coffee, missing the days when his empire was at its prime. Not his empire, really -- more like a sanctuary. A longstanding place of communism, shining brightly in his war-torn eyes. The TV was playing something on chemical warfare, and he vaguely wondered why Russia hadn't turned him in as a chemical weapon for disposal once he was no longer of their use. Perhaps because he was a normal boy at one point, perhaps they planned to use him again. He glanced up from his hot chocolate and settled his gaze on the figure who sat before him. How did he get there? When? Getting lost in his thoughts was really dangerous. "Privet." The greeting was informal, but in his home language. He cleared his throat, trying to make sure his accent wasn't to heavy, but when he spoke, it was pretty thick. "You need something, dude?"

's probably someone from my school or something idk

Was someone walking his way? Shit.

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4/5