Jonathan Obstrovsky-

"BECAUSE THIS WORLD IS A FIELD OF DYING, DYING THINGS THAT THINK THEY'RE BEAUTIFUL, BRING ME THE ROSES. HAPPILY I SHALL BLEED FROM THEIR THORNS, RECOLOR THEIR PETALS, AND SNAP THEIR STEMS WITH MY TEETH."

[the-obstrovsky]

open!

[the-obstrovsky]

pennedxin:

Penn let out another laugh, clearly far more at ease now than he had been the other nigh. Maybe it was the fact that it was a chance meeting, or maybe the fact that he was doing work he really loved, but either way, the conversation was easier. “No? But in restaurants?” He hummed, giving that some thought and tapping at his chin. “Not sure? Depends on what kind of dancing you like to do. I pretty much only know how to white boy shuffle in a club or lose my fucking mind in my bedroom at home and neither of those dances are appropriate for here.”

The vampire shrugged casually, chuckling. “I am a man of varied interests,” never mind that place had marrow so runny, he could actually eat it somewhat. Get some sense of normalcy. Of course Jon had become a partner in the place. Laughing again, Jon rolled his eyes. “White boy shuffle...” that was a new one. “I just like to move. Nothing in particular, so long as it is far and away from a waltz,” he shuddered, grimacing. “Ballroom dancing is absolutely horrid.”

[the-obstrovsky]

open!

[the-obstrovsky]

pennedxin:

“You’re not old,” Penn laughed, moving a little closer and took a seat at his table. “I already did most of my part, and I don’t need to be up there again until the set change. I’ll let you know. Let me guess. You own this place too?”

Jon laughed, shaking his head. “No, no!” he said, waving his hand. “I do not own this establishment. I may know who does,” he added with an innocent-enough look-away. His blue eyes were back on Penn though. What luck... he thought. ‘But I don’t really invest in things like clubs or bars. Too fleeting in this town. So what music is on the list tonight? Anything worth dancing to?”

[the-obstrovsky]

open!

[the-obstrovsky]

pennedxin:

Penn stopped and blinked up at the man, a quirk flickering over his lips when he recognized him. This time, he was head to toe in black, sticking to the shadows. “I mean, not really my scene, but a friend of mine heard the light and sound tech was out for this place and I picked up the shift. What are you doing here?”

If hearts could jump... Jonathan’s posture, ever calm, turned casual. “I frequent the place from time to time. It’s ah - well it doesn’t matter...” he sat up more. “Do you have to work soon? Perhaps you could sit, keep an old man company?”

[the-obstrovsky]

open!

“Quite surprising. I didn’t think you would ever venture into this bar.”

[the-obstrovsky]

pennedxin:

“Oh, no,” Penn laughed, shaking his head instantly. “No, god, I work backstage. Lights, sound, props, whatever I can get into on crew. Lights is my favorite. Unless casting lights in just the right way counts as art, I’m not artistic in the least bit.” He laughed softly again, shaking his head a little more. “That’s what I’m in New York for. I work on Broadway when I’m able to get on a show, but that doesn’t always happen. That’s why I work for Nik. I can’t make rent and groceries and stuff on a check that doesn’t always work out.”

“Ah,” Jon said, eyes lighting up when Penn illuminated on his life. He was backstage, not the sidelines, behind the lines. “Lighting can mean everything,” he said, shifting to hook a leg over knee, turning more to face Penn. “Like the timing of a song. Sets the mood. Broadway though, I do love to go see a play when I’m able. Tell me... what’s your favorite?”

[the-obstrovsky]

snowshxe:

“Lovely to know I look like shit,” came her retort. She ran her fingers through her hair, gripping it and actually lightly pulling for a moment. As if that felt better than her ache. “It’s like being stabbed and the other is twisting the knife– I think more liquor would solve this, but tea does sound a lot better.” Morgan looked at him now, taking it that she actually may now know where she was. “You can call me stupid this time, but where am I?”

Snorting, Jon didn’t reply. He knew Morgan just enough to let her have the moment of self-depreciation. Looking over the brunette’s shoulder, he nodded to a waitress towards the kitchen, raised two fingers, and then his attentionwas back to Morgan. “Cafe Mekta, my dear. Though, we serve more than the standard cafe fair. I think some hair of the dog might help, as well as some aspirin and something fried, perhaps?” he couldn’t help it, he was amused. Perhaps even a bit envious she herself could get hungover.

[zeemoriarty]

[the-obstrovsky]

bloodandbxllets:

“Do you?” Rina asked, hands slung in her pockets easily, moonlight glancing off of fiery ginger curls. She gave him a small smile when he turned and then rolled her eyes. “Don’t be such a drama queen, Jon. You’re such a lonely old coot.” Hopping over the safety rails, she planted herself down on the edge and looked out over the city. “I missed New York, though, that’s for sure.”

He frowned some, thinking why is everyone calling me that lately? But he let it slide. He figured he had room to have ruffled plumage, or be flagrant. At least he was in a fairly decent mood. “Lonely only per lack of your company, dorogoy,” he false-swooned. After a moment, he moved to join her. Though he stayed just shy of the edge. "I trust everything went well? No upsets, things where they need to be?”

[the-obstrovsky]

snowshxe:

“Look, I have a very bad headache. I promise, you yelling isn’t going to make it better. Just sit down and we will talk calmly.” Morgan wasn’t in any mood today, it seemed. Old habits were scratching at the surface, begging to be freed. “You listening?”

“I wasn’t yelling...” Jon said, sitting down across from her for a moment. “I was simply saying it was a surprise to see you here and not on some lonely park bench... you look as though you might need some tea, though. Everything alright?”

[the-obstrovsky]

for Rina

“I always find it so odd we consistently gravitate to this peak, but never farther...” Jon only spoke once he knew it was Rina, once he knew she  was the one approaching. He had spent the better part of the day in Brooklyn, travelling via tunnels and sewers, and now he stood atop the Woolworth building. “I was starting to think you wouldn’t be returning from your trip,” Looking over his shoulder, he smirked at her, before scanning the twinkling city beneath and around them.

[the-obstrovsky]

runbxyrun:

“I’m trying hard to not be an unreasonable asshole here, but I really don’t have time for this.”

“I suppose you should make time then, lad.”

[the-obstrovsky]

from-the-foot-of-the-hills:

Julian was amused to say the very least. There had only been two occasions Jonathan had actually succeeded in breaking his neck, both times he had been utterly inebriated. This evening wouldn’t have made for a third time, but he let Jon have that one. Instead of arguing with his junior, he smiled and added cheekily, “oh, I’m sorry. Was the queen offended by the manhandling?”

Calming down fully now, Jon scoffed at the other vampire. It was impossible to give Julian the same treatment as he did others. If he were king, well - Julian was another king merely on holiday in his lands. “If that is your ‘manhandling’ you’re still a pisspoor boxer as before...” Now though, he smirked some. 

[the-obstrovsky]

brxkencrowns:

“I hope you realize that every time you call me mollyushka, I have a very strong desire to punch you in the throat,” Nikolai commented, sighing as spread his shoulders back to rest his arms against the top of the bench. He was quiet for a few seconds, as if imagining doing so. He raised his eyebrows disinterestedly when he asked about the courier. “The skinny kid? His name’s Penn. Did he do something stupid? I told him to keep his mouth shut when he picked that up.”

Jon rolled his eyes lightly. “Then remind me of another creature and I will happily delegate to you another,” he teased. Growing quiet, the vampire shook his head. “Quite the opposite! I found him rather... fascinating. I think I might like to see him again, but by other means.”

[the-obstrovsky]

pennedxin:

Meek wasn’t often something Penn displayed, nor necessarily shy, but being on a job and being the center of someone important’s attention could do that to him. Jon was important because Nick deemed him important. Despite that, he let out a huff of laughter as well, shaking his head and relaxing just a little in the seat. “I wear them when I don’t have to see him,” he shrugged. “This is the nicest place I’ve ever brought stuff for him. This is… the nicest stuff I have that I don’t use exclusively for shows.” Although none of that was terribly nice either.

Tipping his head, Jon crossed his arms casually. He was still trying to nail down just what it was about the lad in front of him... the list was merely growing. “It’s a flattering color for you...” but then, shows. That word had Jon’s eyes narrowing in curiousity. “You are an artist when not dealing with Nik’s list?”

[the-obstrovsky]

from-the-foot-of-the-hills:

Julian smiled as he spied a familiar frame picking their way down a crowded street. Much like a cat he slunk his way around every person who shuffled in his path until he was upon the man. Without any warning he smacked the man on his back and heartily exclaimed, “davno ne videlis Miloslav!”

It was an uneventful night, a quiet stroll down the street. Jon was ever grateful for the cooler seasons - it afforded more time out when more humans were. And it wasnt that he let his guard down - he just wasn’t used to being touched. So that clap on the back had him whipping around, fist raised. His eyes wide, they then widened in annoyance. “Julian...” the vampire growled, running a hand over his face, features relaxing. “I could have snapped your neck just then!”

[the-obstrovsky]

maniaphxbia:

The man approached quicker than he would have liked. Dexter stepped to the right a few paces on the ledge to keep his distance from him as he got closer. He wasn’t used to an audience anymore when he played on the roof, though on occasion he heard clapping following his finale - but that could have been in his head, for all he knew. 

Dexter didn’t answer him immediately, starring at him carefully, cautiously, before he stepped back down onto the roof to try to slowly B-line for the door around him. “N-no, not anymore,” he stammered, fingers tensing around the violin. “I don’t really play like I used to. I’ve got an audition for the New York Ballet’s orchestra in a week.” Assuming that they didn’t look too heavily into his background and made their decision entirely based off of his talent, however. His episode during a performance in the Czech Philharmonic had stained his career. No one wanted to take the same risk. 

Again, Jon held up his hand - a gesture that he meant no harm. Then, he lowered it, standing straight, praying he didn’t look as intimidating as he, at this point, naturally tended to. His eyes lit up at this prospect fed to him that perhaps, just perhaps, he’d get to hear the beautiful craft in a hall full of other people. “I just... I have not heard such playing in years,” he admitted. “It reminded me of someone.”

Tentatively, he took a few steps forward, but kept a wide distance. Like trying to approach a deer just to get a picture, a moment. “Very rarely do I hear music played in this city as you just played and it be worth hearing. Do you.... Do you know any Arvo Pärt by chance?”

[sexorcised-a-blog]

[the-obstrovsky]

grepfroot:

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