I'll eat you.

Sergej St John | 38 | hitman | "Saint" I trust you. Say one word and I'll do it. I'll do it. I promise. "For me, to be trusted is as good as being loved, because without trust I can't see how I should be able to even begin to love." [fyi: Kind of indie RP, open]

[gerrythebutler]

[gerrythebutler]

[quotemadness]

The most frightening sound in the world is your own heart beating. No one likes to talk about that, but it is true. In the midst of deep fear, it’s a secret beast pounding a giant fist on some inner door, demanding to get in.

Jonathan Carroll (via quotemadness)

[mrsmerylstreep-deactivated20160]

[gerrythebutler]

[sineating-saint]

Back in Time - Prison - Open

[virginiaxhill]

"I got a message from the Boss." she whispered, walking up to him, pushing the table back a bit until she let her legs bracket his own, lowering herself on his lap, her lips on his in a fiery and tempestuous kiss. She had to act quickly; if she was slow, then he wouldn’t be able to get out of there. The Boss needed him. Virginia was reliable, in both killing people and getting things done.

Her hand took his and directed it to the Beretta mouse gun strapped to her thigh before she pressed her lips to his ear to whisper. "Hide it before anyone sees it.

Soon she was pulled away by the warden and made to sit down on her chair with the threat of handcuff in her there, to which she made a saucy comment about how she’d love it. Green eyes looked at the man before her as she brought a finger to her lips to fix her red lipstick. "I need a partner—it’s hard to do things on my own, ya know?"

[sineating-saint]

Sergej had expected a lot of things, though never to be jumped by a woman whom he'd never seen before nor would again, probably. The last kiss had been from his wife so when the green eyed women got pulled back, his face was carved into stone. He stared at her, thinking about her words. He'd told his boss he'd stay in prison, that he'd be here till his light sentence ended. Two years was nothing. Still. He didn't trust her completely, although her words made him think about who was now his boss and he sure as hell didn't want to disappoint. He breathed in deeply, the weapon hid carefully from the guards view. For a second he'd thought about returning it, but then again, he kind of feared what this brass woman would do with it. Sergej flicked this fingers over his lips, inspecting them. Sure, his lips were smeared with the collour of her make-up. "So," he started slowly. "You're either here for yourself, missy or you're here on behalve of the MacAleese." He paused, placing a hand on the table, his finger making tipping noises on the hard wood. "If it's for you searching for a partner, I ave to disappoint. I'm not good with partners plus I only follow one Master at the same time. So if it's for the MacAleese, I think they know where to find me and they know what I'm doing."

[the--russian]

The mutt staggered there and thought his friend’s offer over. It wasn’t like sitting in the middle of a city park, this late at night, this drunk, wearing this suit was a safe alternative, and Sergej was kind enough to offer to play bodyguard for the occasion. Niko nodded and reached out to grab his friend’s shoulder to right himself, gain some balance and not topple over. “Yeah, efirnyy. I’d be—” He hiccuped once and decided then that he should just go home. “Please, take me home.” 

[sineating-saint]

He took Niko's weight, supporting him when he almost fell over. Sergej didn't voice his concern, but he surely didn't have to. If he'd be drunk he wouldn't like to hear about it as well, so he just offered the peace of mind they both seemed to need at the moment, by saying nothing. Grabbing the guitar and pinning the Russian to his side, he nodded again to the bartender, signalling that they would leave. "I'll do." He answered, mumbling the words half into the others hair, due to them being so close. Outside he called a cab, placing all three of them into the backseat, to get home.

[sineating-saint]

Back in Time - Prison - Open

"They said visiting hours, not that I had a visitor," Sergej looked up, covering the bruises on his knuckles with the other hand. "So excuse my surprise, but I really didn't expect anyone." His handcuffs rattled over the table as he righted himself, leaning back a few inches, while eyeing the person right in front of him. "Why?" He asked shortly, without emotion, knowing that they both knew that he'd rather go back to solitary, where he could work out the pent up angry energy. This wasn't the man crying over his wife's death anymore, this was the man who wanted to get back at life for the shite that happened.

[m4mbore]

[sineating-saint]

m4mbore:

Are you here to kill me?

No. That will be too nice. First I’m gonna make you feel everything I felt, then I’m gonna kill you.

[beyoungkang]

[the--russian]

Back onto the touchy-feely subjects that Niko was no good with navigating through. He didn’t think with his heart, he thought with his dick and the rest fell into place. He gave Sergej one more smile, a wink to go with it and he was standing up and paying their bill. “Alright, Saint John. I think I’m gonna’ go find myself a park bench to stagger to until I sober up a little bit. You’re free to join me, or take your lucky arse home. But lemme’ know when you get home safe when you get there, yeah?” He stood and wobbled a little in place, laughed at himself as the night’s drinking caught up with him. “Love that warm feeling.” 

[sineating-saint]

Never would he be the one to throw feelings into a conversation with anyone, though the gift had made him spill unintentionally. Though he was glad that Niko didn't go into details about the past. There were a lot of things he rather wouldn't be reminded of. Deep in thought he stared at the glass, emptying it in one go, befor dumping his almost untouched cigarette inside. He wasn't big on smoking, but it had a calming effect that he - today - kind of needed. Sergej rose with Niko, amusement faintly recognizable in his eyes. "A park bench in the rainy cold... sounds fine to me. My place ain't so far away either, so only if you don't mind me, álainn." He probably wouldn't have much to do or say anyway, he would hate to bore the other plus he'd have to carry the instrument. His lips twitched at the comment. "Don't we all?" He mumbled under his breath. He waved to the bartender, a known face. The Irishman had been here so often that he wondered why he never bothered to ask for the name. He turned back to álainn with an offer. "I could accompany you back home, if you rather?"

[the--russian]

It was a silly question to ask, he saw now. But the confirmation was all he needed and Nikolai was grinning and pleased with the answer. “That is comforting to know, moye vse. Moye efirnyy. You know I’d do the same for you.” Niko took his arm and squeezed tight to let him know he meant it. To become a little part of his personal space. To be at one with him. “You’re like my brother and without you, well, I’d be lost, Sergej.” After he stubbed out his cigarette, he finished off his scotch, figuring he’d probably had enough for the night. “Seems like yesterday your ass was getting out of prison.” 

[sineating-saint]

He felt relieved when he saw how happy he was with his answer. For a second he'd thought that he'd done something to make Niko doubt him. There was nothing more dangerous to him than to fail. He'd failed his macushla, he'd like for it to be the last thing he failed at protecting. "I know." Finally Sergej put the glass to his lips, trying to chase away the tiny spread of cold between his ribs. It didn't burn like the first time, but he felt the alcohol slowly eat away the bits and pieces of his insides. "I'm honored that you think of me that way, álainn." The shy and rare smile returned to his face, wile he set down his half empty glass. Sergej shook his head as he remembered the day of his release. "Don't remind me. It was a stupid idea of a time out. Me sorry ass didn' thank me mind for doin' it." He shook his head again, laughing.

[the--russian]

"Yeah, well, when you wanna’ go, you’ll find a way to go. Chances are, I won’t be able to see you off." He sighed and nodded. "Yeah, I’m staying. This is home, I mean, it’s all I got right now. I can’t leave. Someone has to try and rebuild an old empire. Can’t leave the territory up for grabs. Jacob wouldn’t have wanted it that way." Niko could hear the man turning in his grave now at the thought of losing everything they’d worked so hard to gain. "Anyway, it’s all I’m good for. You staying my soldier or are you taking this as your time to get out, efirnyy?” 

[sineating-saint]

Sergej turned his head to him, raising a brow in silent scrutiny. "When...!?" Did Niko really think he would just up and go? He wouldn't. Never, for as long as he would be needed. Normal people had marriage, rings or whatever to bind them together, but in the St. John household the sense of loyalty ran so deep that if they trusted a person, they'd go so far as to die for them. His parents had instilled that believe more strongly into him than any other lesson, even more than his christian belief. "Álainn," he frowned. "Wherever I might be I'll stay your soldier till the day they'll put a bullet between my eyes. I'll stay if you need me, for as long as you need me. I won't hesitate, álainn, to come back from the grave if that's what you'd wish for."

[the--russian]

"I am pleased that you like it." Nikolai dismissed the comment and the way Sergej failed to see what he saw, because as people, we are our own worst critics and none were harder on themselves than Sergej Saint John. Nikolai finished his scotch, ordered a refill and had his companion’s topped off. "Somewhere where they have snow. I hope you’ll send me post cards and photos while you’re away, efirnyy. It wont be the same ‘round here without you.” 

[sineating-saint]

Sergej rubbed his face with his hands, chuckling roughly. "I'll spam you and send pictures of the Northern Lights or from Kanada or Iceland. You won't even notice that I'm gone. Maybe I'll even find you a good late Christmas gift?" His big hand wrapped around his glass and turned it slowly around. "It's still a pretty big if. I haven't booked any ticket yet." He just fantasized most of the time about visiting Dublin, or any other place. There just never had been such a great pull after he'd been following his parents around and seeing a lot of the countries while they did their job, sometimes including him. "What are you going to do? Stay?"

[the--russian]

Of course Nikolai would remember something like that about one of his dearest friends. He was secretly jealous he never was able to hear the man play for himself. But contributing to a talent was the next best thing, and the guitar was lovely and Sergej was hard to shop for beyond the gun section. “You’re natural with artistic elements, efirnyy. guitars and pens. I envy you for that.” Niko dabbled in some art, but he was his own worst critic. “So. What’s your plan for New Years then?” 

[sineating-saint]

He plucked the strings as he looked up and back at Niko with one of his fondest smiles. He opened his mouth to protest. It wasn't that he could make money with singing or anything, but he liked to do it for special occasions. "Again, thank you, álainn," he breathed the words more than that he said them. When he put the instrument down with as much care as if it was made out of glass, he was tempted to pull the other into a bear hug. He'd made him the perfect gift, but he didn't know how to show him, that he loved and cherished it. "You're perfect, you don't have to envy me. There's not much I've done to deserve this..." He smiled though, because he knew the Russian would like to differ. "Ah, I don't know. I've been thinking about maybe going on a trip if everything's going to stay silent. Maybe I'll go somewhere where they have snow?"

[pedrospascaled]

[the--russian]

"Right, we’re sounding like bloody fools now. ‘Nuff feelings talk." Niko yanked the flask back when Sergej was done with his sip and he took his own. "To old times, and having a very, Merry Christmas. Here—" he reached down onto the floor, picked up a long box and handed the gift over to his friend. “Dunno’ if you can use it, or if you even play anymore. But, saw it and thought of you. Hope it’s alright.” 

[sineating-saint]

"I tried," he shrugged playfully as he automtically tried to reign himself in. Trying to comply without feeling that tidbit giddy now.  Sergej coughed discreetly. "A gift? You gonna make me look bad, álainn..." Saint took the box and fiddled around for a moment, till he got it open. When he did he just stared for a moment, looking at the beautiful instrument. Licking his lips he let his fingers touch the strings before he wrapped them around the slender, wooden neck of it. His mouth opened in silent awe and he could remember mentioning that he'd once played songs for his wife.He hadn't thought that Niko would remember, but he did and so he couldn't decide for what to thank for first. The thought, the actual gift... He couldn't deny that the sudden thought of his dead wife didn't make his eyes shine brighter with unshed tears, but his voice didn't waver when he spoke. "Let's see." His mouth twitched into a slow smile as he gazed at the strings, pulling the guitar back to his own body and trying out a sweet short melody.