[The old Russian does not stink of the Underworld this time, his lip curled as he surveys the damned school with a cold skim (familiarity covered everything else the eye did not). He has to be amazed at himself, at his ability to navigate through ... everything. That was what trundling up and down Possibility and What Is There is like. The Devil
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...Mistah Volgin?
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How can you forget being naked with a bunch of small puppies with that face looking down on you?]
I have business!
[Those puppies, oh god he can hear them as he turns heel and stomps away.]
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Where ya goin', sir? I ain't seen ya in awhile!
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But he keeps his pace brisk as that dead body will let him be brisk.]
I really need to go.
[She can only see his backside, and not that expression of raw discomfort.]
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Why ain't ya been here recently?
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I had other important business.
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Well, I missed ya! But you're back now, ya?
[She gets close enough to get ahold of his shirt and tug gently at it.]
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... This is all ridiculous.
Volgin almost jumps and whirls around to slap the insolent woman's hand away from his sweater (yes, a tacky sweater until time ended, for as long as the Soviet Union was dead). Given his state, he is a bit slow.]
There is nothing to miss! Where's Ivan?!
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Ivan?
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His shoulders slump and with a tired, drawn groan, he rolls his head slightly with his eyes. If there is anything he has going for him, it's indulging about Ivan long enough to this annoying woman that something might come along and eat the puppies, spawn that should not exist ever.]
Yes, Ivan. The man I am... was [Dammit.] with?
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