A Touch of Smirnof

OoC: I will be using Dmitri Ivanov. Yay me.

BiC:

In the deathly cold of the Russian winter, Dmitri shielded his face from the swirling wind. Small snowflakes stung against his thoroughly mutated skin. Taking his hand away from his face, he saw lights in the distance; perhaps an inn, or a small tavern. It would do. Anything with warmth and somewhere to sit down was welcome to him at this point in time. The envelope of night slowly set in, with it coming a silence that was so complete that it hurt your ears to listen to it. Snarling, Ivanov braced himself and walked the last couple of steps to the door of the bar.

Slamming open the door, he looked around with his good eye. Silence started to fall over the tavern as each and every eye in the place turned to him, speculating, hoping that he wouldn't make trouble. The seven or eight foot tall monstrosity sat down noisily at the desk, putting his disfigured head in his hands and sighing. Peeking an eye out of his fingers, he watched slyly until the patrons of the bar all turned back to their brews and commenced their old conversations. He sat up and ordered a drink, something fiery that would burn on the way down. It doesn't matter, really. He had stopped paying attention to these kinds of pains a long time ago.

A large mug of something ungodly was slid across the polished wood tabletop to him. Grabbing it in his large hands, he downed it in one drink and pushed it back for another. The bartender eyed him warily, and slowly refilled his drink.

"Hold off," said the bartender, gesturing at the drink. He had a strong German accent; most likely a recent addition to the motley crew of the bar. Looking around, Dmitri nodded slowly and took a small swig of the drink, sighing once more.

Nothing was good since the experiments. However, spirits often drowned his sorrows and he felt better with a brew in his stomach, so he kept drinking.

Drinking and drinking.

The freezing cold was unbearable, even with the heavy fur coat that Atropos had stolen wrapped tightly around her. She trekked through the deep snow, throwing it aside with her mind to make the path somewhat easier to traverse. She wished she could be anywhere but in this frozen hell, and as if an answer to her wishes she saw a building in the distance. In a few long, telekinetically enhanced leaps forward, she was soon standing just outside of the building.

It appeared to be some sort of inn or tavern, as she could tell by the large amounts of noise coming from the bar. She couldn't be bothered to pull her arms out from under her coat, as they were cold enough inside it, and thus she forced the door open with her mind. She heard some part of the door snap and break when she did that, and the doorknob fell to the floor and rolled under a table.

She watched the knob roll away, and then slowly walked into the room, slamming the door shut behind her. The door promptly flew back open, no longer able to latch shut. She spun around as she heard it swing open again and threw it shut with more force, only causing it to bounce back open with more force. Finally, she pushed it shut by hand, and dragged an empty chair in front of it.

By now, most of the people in the bar were watching her. She looked around, and calmly walked up to the bar. Behind the bar was, of course, alcohol, and plenty of it. She didn't particularly like the taste of the stuff, but the experiences afterward were interesting. Although, now that she thought about it, she couldn't really remember any particular experiences...all just a blur in her memory.

She threw back the hood of the thick fur coat, and telekinetically grabbed a random bottle of alcohol from behind the bar, knocking over several others on accident, causing them to drop to the floor and shatter, spilling their contents all over the floor. The bartender was immediately angered when he saw the expensive liquid splatter uselessly on the floor.

"What do you think you're doing! You're going to pay for all those, right!?" he said in a thick accent that Atropos could only partially understand. She thought about what she'd heard of the question.

"Nope," she eventually said, and tipped the bottle up to her mouth, gulping down several mouthfuls before the liquid had time to burn the inside of her throat, causing her to spray the current mouthful out of her mouth and onto the bar, and go into a coughing fit.

The bartender pushed up his sleeves, showing off his strong and muscular arms. He leaned over the bar and put his face close to Atropos', staring into her eyes. "Look now, missy. You might want to reconsider stealing my liquor. Now, you look a little young to be drinking, so why don't you just pay for what you've used already and leave," he said, cracking his knuckles in a threatening manner.

Atropos cocked her head to the side, staring back into the man's eyes. Once again, she'd only understood a select few of the words that he'd said, but she still could tell he was threatening her. Her grip tightened around the neck of the bottle, and she narrowed her eyes as their color went from indigo to dark red. It didn't take much alcohol to snap Atropos' unstable mind, and she'd already had too much.

"No," she said again. Then she suddenly reached out with her left hand, the small claws extending from her fingers latching into the bartender's neck. He tensed, but couldn't move as his veins slowly blackened and congealed, blocking off the blood flow to his brain. The blackness spread through his veins, visible through his skin, and when it reached his eyes they started leaking a thick black substance, which dripped down his face like dark tears.

She released the body, and it dropped to the floor behind the bar, dead. Several people in the bar silently slinked away, while others were either too drunk to notice, or just simply didn't care. Smirking, she downed the rest of the bottle, and threw it across the room, where it smashed against somebody's head. She turned to face the person as soon as she'd realized she'd hit someone, and saw the most grotesquely mutated person she'd ever seen before, staring at her with a somewhat angry and glazed over by liquor glare.

Yes, Dmitri watched the girl come into the bar. He was surprised to see her slamming things without using her hands; he had never seen such strange...witchcraft? He had heard of it being used, but never actually experienced it. Psychic, or something like that. Dmitri didn't put too much thought into it, and turned back to his brew, taking a swig every now and then and thinking how things would be different if he wouldn't have agreed to the experiments.

Suddenly, he heard some loud voices right next to him; judging from the thick accent, one was the bartender, and the feminine voice must be the psychic girl. Turning his head ever so slightly, he listened to their conversation and then watched as the girl slowly killed the bartender. Surprised, he looked at the girl as she downed the alcohol, and then winced as the bottle hit his head and shattered with a resounding crash. Thoroughly angered, he turned to the girl furiously.

"What do you think you're doing?" he said, his voice overwhelmed in a strong Russian accent. "Zhat was my head." Ivanov snarled, and drew his hand across the bar, knocking off several drinks and eliciting drunken stares. "You had better apologize..." He tried to hold off his anger; it was almost like being back in the Russian camps, with the soldiers throwing things at him and laughing. He had learned to control these fierce wantings, but it was becoming harder and harder by the minute, just seeing the girl's blank and somewhat-cocky stare.

"For what?" queried the girl, looking up into his distorted face, pulling an innocent look.

"You know very well what you did," Dmitri snarled once more. The girl started to move towards another table, tired of this mutation and his commands. Sitting down at a table with her drink, she slowly looked back over to him, where he was simmering in bestial anger. He made a move for the table and grabbed the edge with a humongous hand, and flipped it across the room with what seemed like no effort at all. The girl smirked, and looked back into his good eye.

"Do you think you're tough or something?" she asked him, with a bit of cockiness and sureness in her voice. "Flipping tables all over the place?" She reached her hand towards his body to try that stunt with the bartender again, but he caught her small, petite arm in his hand and pushed it away.

"I have already seen your...what you say, magick. Witchcraft. Whatever you want to call it." Dmitri was pushing himself into a drunken rage. "You killed that bartender and..." He turned back to the bar and place his hands on his head, an enormous migraine coming to him from out of nowhere; at least, that was his rationale. Any other sober person would tell him it was because of the fiery drink that he had consumed, in fairly large amounts.

Suddenly, a flashback came; the general of the army was briefing the soldiers on what seemed to him a joke; a magic, something called telekinesis, or the use of one's mind to manipulate objects and people. This was probably what she used. Telekinesis. He didn't know how it worked; he was smart, but not wise in the ways of otherworldly things.

"I will say it once again, and I will only say it once. Apologize."

Every eye in the bar was turned towards them, waiting to see what happened. A drunken man, sitting in the corner and drowning himself in spirits, yelled something unintelligible and nodded off to sleep. A few bolted out of the door, not wanting to be in the middle of this conflict of oddities. Dmitri looked around to see if anyone else wanted to leave and, getting no takers, turned once more to the girl to see if she was ready to apologize for thoroughly humiliating him (at least in his own mind) in this public place.

As if on cue, a bottle flew from the bar (not thrown by anyone or anything) and smacked Dmitri in the back of the head, making the expensive liquor spill down his shoulders and his back. The drunken man howled and dropped to his hands and knees, licking the precious drink off of the floor. Dmitri swiped him away and he fell on his face, out like a light.

"You should not have done zhat..." Dmitri made a wild grab for the girl, and she skipped neatly out of his way, hurling more random objects around the bar at him and in his path. Stopping, Dmitri grabbed a bar stool and hurled it at her; it narrowly missed her head and shattered against the wood wall of the tavern.

"You will regret your idiocy towards me!" he howled, these words echoing outside the bar and inside it. A few more people made a move for the door.

This would be rough.

Atropos Belladonna laughed as the strange pale skinned-mutant continued to throw various barstools at her. She kept deflecting the flying matter with her mind, sending it flying into various other patrons of the bar, who were either too drunk or just too stupid to have left earlier. By now several more people decided it would probably be best for their health if they fled as well, or simply hid behind the bar. A couple people thought that they would take this opportunity to steal some of the liquor, as if they needed any more.

The angered mutant threw a whole table at her, which she failed to catch in time with her impaired mind. It struck her hard and sent her flying to the ground. Dizzied and confused, and perhaps with a few cracked ribs, Atropos attempted to get back to her feet, but fell over on her back. What bones had been fractured quickly began to bind themselves back together. The drunk creature walked up to her, ready to grab her and make her pay for her insolence towards him. Atropos jumped up to her feet and spun around, throwing her fur coat into the mutant's face as she did so, followed by a couple more tables.

He tore the coat off of his face and smashed the tables aside with his arms. Atropos laughed again, nothing on her mind but mindless destruction, chaos, and mayhem. She threw all the bottles from behind the bar into the room at once, the glass shattering on all the walls, and liquid splashing everywhere. Only a couple of the bottles actually managed to hit her attacker, and they only caused him to become more ticked off at her.

Atropos jumped past the creature to avoid being cornered, but was hit with a barstool as she bounded by. She fell to the floor again, rolling across the floorboards and through the thin layer of alcohol that coated every surface now. Another liquid began to drip to the floor and mix with the spirits, a thick black substance that seemed to be coming from Atropos' hands. She rose to her feet and turned to face the mutant, who was staring at the black substance falling from her open palms.

Suddenly, the liquid turned into several small black tentacles, binding to her hands and arms, and Atropos held her hands out towards the creature. The tentacles wrapped around him, slowly constricting around his chest and neck, attempting to choke him. Atropos cackled at her own madness, which turned into woozy dizziness again, and she began to sway back and forth to keep her balance.

The ruckus resounding from inside the bar sent a chill through Vanessa Ricardi Tresco that was more powerful than the wintry air around her. The driving snow had forced her fatr off-course, and she needed a place to escape. When she saw this haven from afar, she thought it must've been providence. When she heard the sounds coming from inside, the noises of an obvious brawl, she knew it was fate. Heathens, she thought, pushing open the door with her body, which was wrapped in a thick fur coat she had bought off a merchant on Argium. The warm air was comforting, and the intoxicating smell of hundreds of smashed liquor bottles drew her inside regardless of the hazards of smashed glass, slippery floors and...

Giants?! Surely not. Such beings didn't truly exist, she reasoned. She saw the pain in his eyes... not just from physical duress, but from emotinal trauma. She pitied the being as she saw him cry out-- in physical pain this time. Various other people huddled under tables and chairs, women crying over their wounded and dead husbands, men trying to figure out why the hell they came to the bar this evening instead of heading straight home, and some curious bystanders just wanting to watch the mayhem from a safe vantage. One young girl was standing, a streak of some odd color running through her hair. Vanesssa's first instinct was to run to her, to save her from the rampaging brute, but then she saw the gleam in her eyes. The gleam of pleasure, and pain. The gleam of madness. Only then did Vanessa notice the black mass of tentacles leading from her hands to the brute's throat against the dimly lit background of the inn.

When the girl noticed Vanessa, her eyes seemed to radiate crimson for a moment, and a bottle of Smirnof randomly flew off a shelf and attempted to lodge itself as fragments in Vanessa's face. Vanessa focused on the bottle and caught it with her mind, hurling it against a wall behind her and away from the other patrons of the esablishment.

"Two can play at that game," said Vanessa, lifting a glass off the counter with her mind and hurling it at that wretched girl. "The wicked will be punished this day. I know now why I stumbled upon this bar..." her voice had cold, detached determination. She smiled, but not unpleasantly, "I am here because I must stop the people like you from harming others."

She tied back her hair. This was going to get messy.

The girl cackled. Strange, though Dmitri, I could've sworn I was winning zhis battle.. Suddenly, seemingly out of nowhere, strange, black tentacles uncoiled from the girl's hands and arms and started to bind themselves around him, constricting his breathing and wrapping around his neck, forcefully beginning to suck the life right out of him. He struggled to pick something up to try and break her concentration but there was nothing within reach; a pained look came across his face, and it was just like being in the test centers in the Russian camp; helplessness, almost like being bound to a slab of concrete and tossed into deep water. He could not move, nor could he barely breathe. His eyes flickered desperately around the room, looking for something to distract the girl that the enormous amount of pain might lessen for even one second, and, as if on cue, a bottle of something flew across the room and smashed itself into her head.

The tentacles lost their grip and slackened, and Dmitri made a move; grasping the tentacles and ripping them off of his body, he pulled the girl towards him and attempted to hurl her across the room when she suddenly flicked away, that strange grin still lit up across her face. Turning his head, he looked at the one who had saved him; another girl, wrapped in a fur coat, also seemingly telekinetic. Damned psychics... he said to himself, with a growl. However, when the girl looked into his eyes, she could see that, in those wells of immense emotion, Dmitri felt gratitude.

However, he was still drunk.

Picking up a table that several intoxicated individuals were laying, either unconscious or barely so, he once more hurled it towards the two psychic girls, who were now more closely huddled together. Then, picking up some bottles (as there weren't many other things that one could throw in a bar), Dmitri began throwing these with somewhat spot-on accuracy. He noticed he had hit the girl who saved him a couple of times, and also the other psychic.

In that second girl's eyes was a look of betrayal; a look that meant to say, "well, I saved you, and this is what you do to repay me?" Ivanov shrugged in her general direction, and proceeded to hit her in the shoulder with a bottle of Smirnof.

Ahh, good ol' Smirnof.

Another telekinetic? Atropos noticed with interest. She didn't have much to to think over it, when yet another bottle came crashing into her head. The shards of glass cut several gashes into her face, but the dark indigo blood that leaked out quickly healed the wounds; leaving only blood on her face, and an aching skull. Grabbing the same table the mutant had just thrown, Atropos sent it spinning across the room. It hit him firmly in the chest and knocked him to the ground.

Atropos was then attacked from behind, a chair breaking over her head. The blow sent Atropos to the ground, and she quickly rolled over to see the other telekinetic girl, looking altogether hostile. Of course, in her current state, Atropos thought everything looked hostile. She quickly jumped to her feet and threw a chair at the woman's legs, knocking her over. Behind Atropos, the mutant was getting back on his feet, steadying himself and preparing to throw another bottle of liquor.

Before he could, however, a barstool flew up from the ground and crashed into his gut; thrown there by which psychic, not even Atropos was sure. The scene was altogether chaotic, and Atropos was thoroughly enjoying it, although she'd probably greatly regret it in the morning, what with the headache she was likely to have. But at least for the moment, all her pain was numbed by the alcohol she shouldn't really have been drinking.

Atropos found herself in the middle, between the two attackers, and she didn't much like that position. She sent out tangled ropes of black matter and lassoed the raven haired woman, jerking the rope and throwing her into the middle of the room. Atropos then found herself dodging various flying material, and got knocked off her feet by a bench, the lasso she'd made becoming slack and melting into a thick black liquid. She rolled along the ground for a bit before managing to regain her footing.

She quickly looked around for something else to throw. Anything would work. She noticed a drunkard, hiding behind a table, and decided he would do. She pulled him out from his hiding place, and threw him clear across the room, at the other two people. She didn't care who she hit, who she injured, or if anyone died. She hardly even cared for her own wellbeing.

Vanessa wasted much more effort than she should have slowing down the inebriated man hurtling towards her-- he probably deserved to die anyway. She practically threw herself behind a capsized table so that she could recover some energy and compose her thoughts. The mutant couldn't be trusted, that much was obvious, and it appeared that the drunker the girl got, the less control over her power she had. That could be used to Vanessa's advantage. When she was sufficiently rejuvenated, she kicked the table as hard as she could, at the same time giving it a little psychokinetic boost so that it rocketed towards Andre the Giant with exceptional speed. He managed to sidestep it (Vanessa's aim was not up to par these days, really), and the tabled hit the bar like a cannonball, sending splinters, glass, and alcohol everywhere.

The crazy girl dashed for a table by the bar, tossing drinks left and right as she went. The tall man looked like he was stuck trying to decide between crushing either Vanessa or the girl, and Vanessa decided she didn't want to stick around to see which one he would pick. She tossed herself behind the bar and tried to sneak up on the psychic. She grabbed the bottle with the most alcohol she could find and uncorked it. She hoped to Whomever that the girl could not read minds.

"You vill regret your idiozy!" Atropos shouted, unsuccessfully attempting to mock the mutant's accent, but using an altogether different accent. She tossed a table in the giant's general direction; but before it reached its target, she caused it to explode into several sharp fragments and large projectiles, just to change things up a bit. The creature howled as the splintered wood ricocheted off his skin, and the larger projectiles rebounded off his face. Atropos laughed, amused by the mutant's apparent pain, and somersaulted across the floor, dodging another chair.

Nightshade looked around, but she couldn't see the other attacker, the female psychic. All the better, she supposed. Only one target to deal with at the moment. As she was thinking, an empty beer glass thrown by the giant crashed into her shoulder, throwing her to the ground. Confused and dazed, she tried to figure out which was up and get herself there. Guessing, she used a burst of telekinesis and pushed against the floor, sending herself spinning into the air. Her feet missed the floor, and she landed on her knees, and then promptly fell on her face. After she'd cleared her head, she managed to get back on her feet, only to see that the mutant was right in front of her and not looking very pleased.

A brief second (and large telekinetic explosion) later, and he was on the other side of the building, apparently out cold. Instead of checking and making sure he was out, which would have been the wise decision, she sat down at an overturned and bisected table, looking around for a bottle that wasn't either empty or broken.

Vanessa grabbed the psycho ***** by her throat and threw her down, no longer caring much for her wellbeing. She took the bottle and attempted to pour the liquid down the girl's throat, but she coughed and sputtered-- and then blew Vanessa through the ceiling. After apologizing profusely to the couple that she had... interrupted, she bolted out the room and down the stairs.

As she reached the bottom, she was greeted by a shower of glass as the ceiling light above her head exploded. Vanessa pushed on until she was able to hide behind a table, and assessed her wounds. She was covered in glass, cuts, blood and debris. She was in all likelihood concussed and everything hurt when she moved. She couldn't handle much fighting. She was about to thrust the table forward, hopefully into the girl, when she felt herself being lifted from behind.

"I crush you like twig, puny girl," the giant roared.

OoC: I will post a post these next couple days. Don't worry. I reserve it, though. ;D

He grabbed the girl and lifted her easily; she wasn't heavy and gave little resistance. In fact, she seemed to be totally limp in his hands. Turning her around to face him, he looked at her quizzically. Is she dead? Did the shock suddenly just kill her? Dmitri felt a rumbling noise, and looked over at the bar; each and every bottle was vibrating. Dmitri felt a terrible feeling in the pit of his stomach and slowly began to move backwards. Suddenly the bottles flew off the shelves towards him, every sort of alcohol you could imagine stinging the cuts that were made by the impact of glass to mutilated skin. Howling with a potent mixture of anger and pain, he flung the girl to the ground and was about to crush her head beneath his freakish foot when a barstool hit him in the torso, knocking the wind out of him and causing him to fall on the ground and struggle to regain his composure.

"Yes! Direct hit!" said the psychic that, moments before, had been out of his line of sight. Shaking his head and trying to focus the double visions, he slapped himself several times and vaulted behind the bar.

What was there to use as a weapon? Dmitri smiled slyly. Hello, pool cues. You would work just fine. Grabbing one and hiding the others behind the bar, he quickly leaped over the bar and swung the cue around like a madman, acting as though he were a crack-addict-turned-knight. He swung out at the first psychic, narrowly missing her head, and then at the other, giving her a good crack on the shoulder. The pool cue began to vibrate in his hands, and he almost dropped it out of surprise; seeing that the first psychic was concentrating intensely on the makeshift-sword, he stabbed towards her stomach, hitting her with the blunt end of it. Another bottle crashed against his head, two more following after it.

When he had wanted a drink, he hadn't expected this.


(sorry for taking so long i suck yeah whatever broskis)

Atropos Belladonna suddenly found herself ambushed from behind. The telekinetic woman grabbed her by the throat and threw her to the ground. Forcing a bottle in her mouth, the psychic was apparently trying to drown Atropos in vodka. Choking on the liquor, Atropos scrambled to get the crazy lady off of her, finally settling on throwing her through the ceiling with as large a blast of telekinesis as she could summon at the moment. Atropos groaned as she got back up from the floor, soaked in alcohol. "A fire would be the worst possible thing right now," Atropos said to herself, realizing that everything in the room was wet with alcohol.

The telekinetic lady from before soon reappeared at the bottom of the stairs, and Atropos snapped her fingers in that general direction. A lightbulb exploded above the lady, causing her to quickly duck behind an overturned table. Atropos frowned. The lightbulb hadn't been her target at all, how could she have possibly missed? She didn't have much time to think about it, as the giant suddenly showed up again. Atropos flew out of his line of sight, hiding behind the bar, leaving him to attack the other lady.

All around her, bottles began to vibrate and toss themselves across the room. Atropos climbed up on top of the bar to get a better view, and saw that the glass containers were colliding with the irate mutant, causing him to howl out in pain and wrath all the more. It looked like the perfect opportunity, so Atropos glanced around for the closest loose object that could be used as a projectile. Her gaze finally settled on an upside down barstool, and a flick of her wrist sent it flying into the creature's torso. "Yes! Direct hit!" she said, pumping her fist and then diving off the bar. She rolled behind a loose pile of wood and debris, coming to a stop flat on her back.

When she finally managed the equilibrium to stand back up, something hard cracked over her shoulder, sending her back down to the floor. The mutant had found a pool cue apparently. "Oh, hey, I didn't notice there was a pool table in here," Atropos slurred. Pool sure sounds fun maybe we should play some of that now... she thought, not able to summon enough energy to verbalize her thoughts. Her sight began to get rather blurry and for the first time Atropos realized she was very tired. Darkness began to obscure the edges of her vision, and when she tried to get up she could only manage to roll over. Muttering incoherently, Atropos used psychokinesis to pull herself back up onto her feet, but the mixture of dizziness, tiredness, and weakness in her legs and arms and every other muscle caused her to quickly topple back over, tripping over some poor drunkard's motionless body.

Shouting more gibberish and shaking her head, Atropos managed to find her footing again, and made her way to the pool table in the corner, ignoring the fight between the mutant and the psychic. She couldn't find any cue sticks, but the table was covered in pool balls. Laughing a stupefied laugh for no conceivable reason, Nightshade waved her palm over the balls on the table. They didn't respond at first, but eventually they began to lift themselves off the green fabric and into the air. As Atropos rocked back and forth in her inebriation, the billiard balls circled around her head, bobbing up and down. Noticing again the people she had been fighting, Atropos began to use the pool balls as projectiles. Most of them missed by a mile, and one of them somehow managed to hit herself. "Owww! Nooo, not meee!" she whined, throwing the insolent 11 ball by hand.

Surprisingly, the throw managed to hit one of the other fighters. Atropos was too intoxicated to notice (or care) which one.