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Apr. 11th, 2015 10:36 pm There's trouble brewing. Katya can feel it roiling, an uneasy prickly feeling like a lightening storm about to break. She stalks the halls, trying to ignore it, trying to work it off There's so many here, most not under her purview, most not wanting or needing her help anyway - most likely this has nothing to do with her.
Doesn't keep her from her rounds. It's a long-ingrained habit, she's given up hope that she'll ever be able to shed it.
She's down near the staff quarters, almost ready to call it a night with a bottle of vodka when the tension breaks, unrolling in a long wave and the crack of a thrown punch breaking bone. Rolling her shoulders, Katya meanders into the gym to investigate.
What she finds is infuriating. There's a heavily muscled man - trained, American, military by his tattoos and his posture, practically alight with his unreasoning hatred. There's a lighter-framed man, with a dancer's build and a bloodied nose sprawled across the gym mats, gingerly curling in on himself in self-defense. Not that the lack of severe resistance seems to be doing much to defuse the soldier, no - if anything, it seems to be angering him further. With the mood in the room, there's going to be a murder tonight.
That's just... something she can't abide, here. It's still not her purview, this is not a fight between Light and Dark, just a sordid and uneven brawl between humans.
But she does have an interest in who wins. One man she doesn't know other than in passing, with no interest in knowing further. The other... the other, despite a history that should make him anathema to a creature such as herself has proven himself to be a safe harbor, someone she can have at her back without worrying about him putting a knife there.
The lights go out in the gym, to the the accompaniment of a low, vicious growl.
She'll give the soldier credit. He doesn't panic when the lights die, he doesn't lose his head, and he even manages to get in a blow when she sacrifices closing safely for closing quickly. She isn't interested in a long fight, or in playing fair, a diving lunge turning in to a clawed swipe halfway through, tearing through clothes and flesh alike. Katya has never been one to go for half-measures.
The lights come back on with a flicker, and the situation is changed. Now two men are on the floor, but one is bleeding profusely. Katya flicks blood off her fingers, then reaches down to pull Tahno back to his feet, draping his arm over her shoulders and twining her arm around his waist.
"Come on, ребенок выдра ,it is now my turn to be the caregiver." She informs him a wry grin, the waitrats that came in the commotion skittering away from her path. They can take care of the soldier - she has other concerns.
Doesn't keep her from her rounds. It's a long-ingrained habit, she's given up hope that she'll ever be able to shed it.
She's down near the staff quarters, almost ready to call it a night with a bottle of vodka when the tension breaks, unrolling in a long wave and the crack of a thrown punch breaking bone. Rolling her shoulders, Katya meanders into the gym to investigate.
What she finds is infuriating. There's a heavily muscled man - trained, American, military by his tattoos and his posture, practically alight with his unreasoning hatred. There's a lighter-framed man, with a dancer's build and a bloodied nose sprawled across the gym mats, gingerly curling in on himself in self-defense. Not that the lack of severe resistance seems to be doing much to defuse the soldier, no - if anything, it seems to be angering him further. With the mood in the room, there's going to be a murder tonight.
That's just... something she can't abide, here. It's still not her purview, this is not a fight between Light and Dark, just a sordid and uneven brawl between humans.
But she does have an interest in who wins. One man she doesn't know other than in passing, with no interest in knowing further. The other... the other, despite a history that should make him anathema to a creature such as herself has proven himself to be a safe harbor, someone she can have at her back without worrying about him putting a knife there.
The lights go out in the gym, to the the accompaniment of a low, vicious growl.
She'll give the soldier credit. He doesn't panic when the lights die, he doesn't lose his head, and he even manages to get in a blow when she sacrifices closing safely for closing quickly. She isn't interested in a long fight, or in playing fair, a diving lunge turning in to a clawed swipe halfway through, tearing through clothes and flesh alike. Katya has never been one to go for half-measures.
The lights come back on with a flicker, and the situation is changed. Now two men are on the floor, but one is bleeding profusely. Katya flicks blood off her fingers, then reaches down to pull Tahno back to his feet, draping his arm over her shoulders and twining her arm around his waist.
"Come on, ребенок выдра ,it is now my turn to be the caregiver." She informs him a wry grin, the waitrats that came in the commotion skittering away from her path. They can take care of the soldier - she has other concerns.
