Post by Ivan on Dec 16, 2010 21:19:32 GMT -5
"Ah, ah, been such a long time since I vas here, such a long time, da!" The gloved hand clutched the neck to a bottle of the finest vodka available in space. Ivan Braginski, well shaved and constantly smelling of some sort of heavy liquor, popped the top off and took a long, heavy swig out of the large bottle. Many people around him stared. The old rumors went, "Try to drink Ivan under the table and you'll be dead or have liver damage." He went through two bottles, at least, a day. One bottle of mild orange vodka usually killed people. It was old legend that Russians possessed unimaginable strength, but God knows how many could hold two liters of a drink that was forty percent alcohol and still not feel a buzz. Some people muttered about what his liver must look like. Others feared the wrath of an occasional drunk Ivan. Not like it happened much anyway, but if it did then one wouldn't be the wiser to lock themselves in the room for a day and never come out until the big Russian had overcome both the stupor and the massive hangover.
But no, today was a cheerful day. He couldn't wait to see Alfred and Wang, Francis and Arthur. Most of all what gave him a bit of a kick was the look of terror upon the faces of Division V.
Yes, today would be a wonderful day. Perhaps he should have a party. The well-groomed Russian adjusted his jet-black collar underneath his scarf and the violet eyes with a hidden soullessness behind them glimmered with a malicious sense of pride and zeal.
Today was the day.
But no, today was a cheerful day. He couldn't wait to see Alfred and Wang, Francis and Arthur. Most of all what gave him a bit of a kick was the look of terror upon the faces of Division V.
Yes, today would be a wonderful day. Perhaps he should have a party. The well-groomed Russian adjusted his jet-black collar underneath his scarf and the violet eyes with a hidden soullessness behind them glimmered with a malicious sense of pride and zeal.
Today was the day.