Post by Anastasia R. Volotskaya on Sept 12, 2019 17:36:13 GMT -4
 Don't Let It Bring You DOWN Japan was accommodating enough, to say the least. The journey over hadn't come without a cost. Countless lives were on the line the second they left Soviet waters, and the risk that their redheaded leader was putting them at was too high. Though the lot of them were paranoid, Anastasia had always enjoyed the thrill of a gamble. Instead of money this time, however, she was putting their lives on the line. And it had all worked out swimmingly. Now that the product was loaded safely and securely into a warehouse nearby, the woman could rest easy. With a glass held just at the tip of her fingers, Ana threw back yet another shot of whiskey. The burn it left as it slid down her throat was not unlike her Quirk's, and she'd slam the shot glass back down onto the bar's hard surface with a clank that echoed around the pub,"Again." The Russian slurred out in poorly spoken Japanese to the bartender, a drunken smile plastered on her lips. The redhead couldn't pinpoint the time she'd come into the bar. It was sundown when she'd arrived, but the moon had crept high into the sky by now. If that wasn't enough, the henchmen she'd practically threatened to come with her to drink their sorrows away had all but left. It left Ana isolated to herself at the far corner of the bar with nothing but her empty glass to call her own. Which, as the bartender shook his head at her request, would remain empty for the rest of the night as the drunk was cut off. Scoffing as she stood and stumbled from her seat, Ana's typical feminine gait was replaced by drunken staggering as she stepped past the other patrons sat at the bar. She'd expected to leave and wobble over back to the hotel she was staying at for the time being nearby, but it seemed that Japan had a way of making everything much more complicated than they had to be. "Drunken whore." Like any person just learning a language, the redhead had decided that swear words were the best place to start. The words were muttered by a large, balding man who was sat down in one of the bar stools as she passed by, and he was none the wiser of the rage of a woman scorned. It made her stop just inches from him dead in her tracks, fiery red hair doing it's best to hide the flurry of anger stewing just underneath the surface. She stepped over to the nearest table, reaching for the wooden chair pushed just next to it with a gloved hand. With a quick motion, the chair was in her hands and crashing hard against the backside of him- both his head and his burly back,"Кого ты называешь шлюхой, уродливый клоун?! (Who are you calling a whore, you ugly clown?!)" The sudden violence brought silence to the establishment, and the man looked unphased from the assault as he stood up from his bar stool. Anastasia, though drunk, held the same blind confidence that she had when sober. This man, though taller and larger than her in every aspect, did little to frighten her. She'd seen bigger men, after all. The bartender shooed the two outside to save the rest of his furniture from the same fate as Anastasia's improvised weapon, and the two did just that. Now, in the streets of Kabukicho, were two equally dangerous individuals ready to face off. And, with her pride on the line, the redhead knew that she'd go to any end to make sure he bowed before her. It's Only Castles BURNING |
| BRY of W&&R, ADOX, and PIXP | Tags Dima Damira Words 607 Notes |
