[When the camera flickers on, instead of getting a fabulously framed shot of a random Inmate/Warden, you get a close-up of what appears to be wood-grain. In the background, there's a series of loud bangs, followed by some gravelly voice mumbling something vague in Russian. The screen twists around, and OH THERE WE GO! It's Mikhail
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You are hurt. [Duh, Sveta.] You need to see someone about those injuries, Mikhail Bakunin.
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I'm fine, but thank you for your concern, Miss...?
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We spoke...before. At the camp.
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[He then frowns for a second, because he's been desperately trying to purge the camp from his memory. :c]
...You're the girl from Moscow?
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If anything gets worse, please let me know. And yes, I'm from Moscow.
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[There's another pause. He's probably holding his cheek again right now, frowning big style.]
I wouldn't say no to a dentist, either.
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I'll do what I can. As for the dentist, I don't know if we have one and I'm not trained for that. I can give you something for the pain, though.
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...And I suspected as much. Not to worry. If worst comes to worst, I'll simply remove it.
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[Long pause, longer pause.]
What happened that you are so hurt?
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I fell down the stairs.
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You didn't break a bone, did you?!
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I'm already dead. What's the worst that can happen?
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