[Mihael's been sorta lonely, so he's finally wandered out of the room he's chosen on the second floor to a bar on the fifth. It's a fairly large bar, relatively empty when he walks in; immediately, though never really one to drink, the soldier makes his way across the expansive room, walking right behind the bar and starting to dig through the ( Read more... )

[The house is cold, and Mihael's been arguing with his seventeen-year-old brother over whose turn it is to run outside in the snow and chop firewood. Finally, Mihael just groans, grabbing his coat and throwing it on; he slings his military-issue rifle, an AK-47, over his shoulder, strapping it securely across his back, and bursts out the back door ( Read more... )

Oh for the love of God, isn't there anyone around here who knows how to make a decent double macchiato?

[Mihael, huffing in the kitchen, hands on her hips, rolls her eyes and sighs loudly. She can't believe she's stuck in a building without at least a Starbucks cart.]

[There is a blonde woman in a sleek black business suit clipping along down the hallway, yammering loudly into her cell phone:]

Look, Halle, I don't give a shit what it takes, just keep this out of the papers, all right? Mail's been AWOL for months, and the last thing I need is -

[She comes to an abrupt stop in the hallway, realizing her line ( Read more... )

it's been almost two weeks since emo_raito and commeo ran away to their cozy eighth-floor super-secret hideout, and they've finally gotten to the point where neither of them can stand to face another peanut butter sandwich, so they've decided to venture out into the mansion in search of one of the lesser-used kitchens for something ... not peanut butter to eat.

emo_raito ( Read more... )