WHEN: june 25th, 2017 ; circa 16:53 WHERE: some smoky french café near the constellation compound WHO: closed to @ladvchess
god was he feeling tired. for someone who constantly boasted about how resilient his systems were, a lack of a good night’s sleep had been more than a tough blow for the lone survivor of the bolkonsky bloodline. he was surprised -- he’d gone days without a drop of rest in the past. many had been the cold nights plagued by winds much too strong for his weak structure to handle, as had been nights where he’d preferred to remain awake than allow some sneaky fellow street rat to dispose him of his belongings. he knew the game, and thus he knew there was nothing a good cup of strong coffee couldn’t fix.
now, in the room with velvet walls where the clinking of porcelain cups and hums of human interaction reigned in lieu of your usual silence, dmitri stood out like a sore thumb. his back relaxedly placed against the back of the seat, a hand around what seemed to be his fourth or fifth espresso. in an even more comical twist of the events, the man had insisted on wearing his pair of sunglasses even the closed room. thank Бог that neither vlad or anya were around to witness such tragic version of him.
“ ah, milady, i’m glad my invitation made its way to your chambers, ” dmitri grinned and motioned at duchess as soon as he caught sight of her. “ this might not be as elegant as that suffocating elevator, but i hope it’s nice enough anyway. ”
