The old car was World War 2 issue and covered in rust. The vehicle was a complete write off and Vlad knew it. He had bought it for a few hundred euro of a local and doubted it would work, but the fix up would at least be fun. He had it shipped up to the Villa he was staying at and it sat on a slight incline just outside.
Vlad, after his usual strict morning routine or working out, coffee and writing, had thrown on his old jeans and and headed out to work on the car. An hour in and a fine sheen of sweat had begun on his forehead, his hands oily and fresh prints donned his pants.
He was that deep in concentration, that he barely heard the 80s rock and roll blaring from his phone, hooked up to speakers on the backseat of the car. He also never heard the persona approach until there was a shadow thrown over the car. He glanced over his shoulder, cheek smeared with oil and smiled at them. “Hey…sorry, is the music bothering you?”
since arriving to his current location, thomas had been bombarded by the drag of diplomatic matters and constant meetings with advisors who reported back to his father. not that he particularly minded the duties that he’d been gifted with, but he’d hoped that at some point he might be able to catch up with people that had not crossed his path in a long time. knowing the older he got, the less he seemed to see others who did not border with switzerland. it was not for any one reason, nor was it intentional — it was purely down to life. so upon learning that the ukrainian prince made it safely to greece, tom went to seek him. the search was short-lived due to starting out in the garage, yet it was attention that needed to be caught among the blaring music. for a moment he considered kicking the other. avoiding it for fear of unrest between two countries. instead he moved to block the light, causing vlad to turn. “music bothering me?” he questioned, quirking a brow. “what’s bothering me is your inability to check your phone.” motioning to the device’s whereabouts.
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