mccallofthewildâ:
Scott grinned and nodded, glancing around them. âSure.â Scott replied, brushing his fingers over Ilyaâs shoulder. âBut are you having a good time. Youâve been holding that wall up pretty much all night. I want you having a good time too. Tonightâs about helping the pack unwind a little. Youâre a part of that.ââ
ilya hums a little, glancing over to the spot on the yard where the pack sat. the little camp fire they lit provided warmth, alongside the open bar set up in the kitchen. he could see the odd combination of various shifters and humans laughing, strumming a tune on a guitar, some dancing rather tipsy. and here he sat on the corner of the patio with a few lit candles on the banister, thanks to the one called lydia.
âyou know i like a bit of quiet at a party, scott,â he smiles. âiâm doing okay, you should go and have fun with the others. leave me to my old guy stuff,â he joked, adjusting the warm blanket he draped on his shoulders.
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myersbprdâ:
The current Ilya appears the antithesis of the usual Ilya, and itâs a divergence John finds rather amusing. Regardless, to the casual onlooker, a priest is liable to be exactly whatâs deduced at a first glance, even if that couldnât be further from reality.
At Ilyaâs inquiry, a subtle grin curves his lips. âIâm sure theyâll all be swooning. Youâve got a very nice smile â just donât have that glint in your eye that you get, or you wonât be fooling anybody.â
His quiet teasing grows a bit more practical as his hands reach up to straighten the collar of Ilyaâs shirt just a bit. âThere. Perfect.â Then, Johnâs visage adopts its own sudden severity, though his gaze remains alight with humor. âNow Iâm ready to confess to you all my deepest, darkest sins.â
He wasnât really sure of what John meant by the glint heâs got in his eye. Ilya was aware of what a dashing smile he can put on for good use while on an intel job, charming even the hardest of cold businessmen or desperate mistresses. But he tries to soften his visage anyway- less of the charismatic hunter, more of a hopeful and genteel, courteous man of the cloth.
He lets John adjust his collar, looking at himself on the full length mirror propped against the wall behind the agent. âNow what sins would a cherubim face like yours carry, John?â he asks with a grin, before adjusting the sleeves. âUgh, this fabric feels scratchy on my skin. How are they able to wear it daily?â he complains.
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- Faeron -
burglar of the Grey Company
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myersbprdâ:
When Johnâs focused, itâs rather difficult for him to turn his attention to anywhere else. This latest case seems to tie into a litany of others, which has resulted in whatâs now become an hours long attempt at cross-referencing his own mission reports with other recent submissions to compile all relevant information into a new document to discern whether or not his theory holds any validity â
âWhat?â When Ilya speaks, it doesnât quite register. Oh, thereâd been something about hotdogs. âI mean, I just ate.â Wait, that was a few hours ago, wasnât it? âOr maybe I didnât.â His gaze flickers between Ilya and the computer screen in front of him. âI guess I could leave for a little while.â
It seemed as though Ilyaâs frowning went more towards bewilderment when John tried to make out the time of the day. They had lunch over 4 hours ago, and it was a late lunch as they had debriefings and meetings all morning, with no snack cart anywhere in the rooms. All they had were those small bottled waters at room temperature to help keep them hydrated and awake.
âHeâs itching for a hotdog or five, John. You know how grumpy he gets when he doesnât get his food,â the hunter grumbles, rather embarrassed, recalling the reports he received from their colleagues on how the wolf nearly scratched up one of the sofas in the professorâs study to complete fluff.
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@mccallofthewild from x
Ilya couldnât help the smile growing on his lips when Scott approached him. He even sits up a little in his chair. âHeâs doing alright,â he smiles, brushing his hair back with a hand. He didnât even mind how Scott took a sip from his cup. âItâs a nice night, and everyoneâs having a good time. Itâs been a long time since Iâve felt comfortable around a gathering,â he admits. âI suppose I owe my thanks to you, on encouraging me come today.â
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These two.
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myersbprdâ:
âGood.â Johnâs relief at Kieranâs acquiescence tinges the edges of his voice. The longer they spend debating what to do, the greater the chance that theyâll run into danger before he delivers the nymph to safety.
Their palms pressed close, he leads the way back into the hall. Although he doesnât pass more than a cursory glance at the bodies strewn across the floor ( it wonât do any good to linger right now, not really, and he knows there will be more than enough time in the aftermath ), itâs all John needs to know that theyâre a result of the wolf, and not simple bullets or knives.
He needs to find Ilya, too. When heâs usually so adept at compartmentalizing his emotions, at swiftly discerning where to focus his attention first â the chaos is almost overwhelming. Even so, John canât allow it to distract from what matters, and thatâs defending the people he cares for. At the sound of the quiet voice behind him full of fear, he squeezes Kieranâs hand. âI know. But Iâm gonna protect you no matter what. I promise.â
Glancing back over his shoulder, he holds Kieranâs gaze firmly with his own. âDonât look down, okay? Just look at me. Weâre almost to the stairs now.â They canât risk using the elevators, even if theyâre still working. âYouâll be safe.â
The nymph gave a squeak of a whimper, nodding to Johnâs reassurance. His hand felt hot and clammy in the manâs hold, and he does his best to keep his eyes on the back of Johnâs head. There was a sickly scent of death and gore in the air, and Kieran does his best to recall the smell of fresh earth and apricots from the villa orchards.
Kieran dearly hoped that they wouldnât come across any trouble on their way, sighing a breath of relief once they reach a door leading to the stairway. Meeting the rather still air of the hollow flights, it was almost too quiet. âIs Mr Tarasov okay?â he couldnât help to ask. âHe left to do his paperwork just now. Maybe heâs with everyone else, and theyâre safe in the offices.â
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@myersbprd
Ilya expected for John to take a break right about now. The agent has been in his chair for hours, only moving slightly to reach for his coffee or for a piece of paper to read through. He knew that paperwork filled Johnâs time daily, but it was nearly tea time, and the wolf is itching for him to walk around a bit.
âThatâs it, weâre going for a walk,â the man announces, this time carefully closing his laptop lid instead of slamming and breaking it. âMold will grow in your seat if youâre on it for another minute, John. We need a break, and I want to get hotdogs from the cart outside.â
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Josh Stewart as Arkin O'Brien || THE COLLECTOR (2009)
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