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Post by Lysander Bassarov on Jul 8, 2005 19:20:06 GMT -5
I nod my head.
"Sweet."
I pick at my finger nails a bit.
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Post by sonjasorokin on Jul 8, 2005 19:23:40 GMT -5
'You'll hate it,' Sonny told him honestly. 'It's an old Russian remedy. My grandmother force fed it to me every time I got sick as a child.' Sonny realised that she wasn't exactly selling it well. It was more of a superstitious thing with her anyway. 'Great for the immune system,' she insisted, adding offside to him; 'and if you're lucky, it might even give you a bit of a rush.' Sonny winked.
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Post by shizue on Jul 8, 2005 19:28:00 GMT -5
"You think so?"
Then I carefully gave Aingeal to Stace and kissed her on her head.
"She is very adorable girl..."
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Post by Lysander Bassarov on Jul 8, 2005 19:29:08 GMT -5
I nod.
"Hey, hook me up with some of that, hu?"
I do a riff on my air guitar.
"You know, I really need to get myself a guitar... I've been saving up too!"
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Post by Valodya Bassarov on Jul 8, 2005 19:31:19 GMT -5
"I know this is rather inconvienient, but the trolley buses do not pick up at the train station. We have to walk a few blocks." Bassarov explains and picks up his bags. The train station is built on a hill, and it is somewhat isolated from the main street. In fact, to meet the main street, everyone must travel a small path downhill, through the bushes. Bassarov isn't sure why they never made a larger path or connected the trolley bus line to the train station, but concludes that it would be "too easy" and therefore hamper the process of character building in the Russian people.
So, they head downhill, down the cow path, and finally meet the side walk. They walk a few blocks, passing the university where Bassarov attended school.
"I went to school there..." He says pointing at the campus. Unlike American campuses, the university is one major building where all classes are held, and there is no sprawling lawn, rec centers, of playing fields. There are some students sitting by a fountain in front of the main entrance. They are studying for their graduation exams.
"We don't get tested as often. We have a series of major tests before graduation. I suppose as long as I am here I could see if I could take the exams early even though I am a few courses short. The graduation exam includes an oral interview/test which all students must endure if they want to graduate. These tests take place in June and July, so that is why so many students are still in school." He explains as they pass. He listens to Sonny talk about her mushroom tea, but doesn't have much to imput on that conversation.
Finally they arrive at a pickup point and wait for the trolleybus to arrive. It seems that everyone is eating icecream today and on every corner there are little icecream stands.
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Post by sonjasorokin on Jul 8, 2005 19:36:58 GMT -5
'You need to tune that sucker,' Sonny nods towards Lysander's air guitar.
'Bassarov?' Sonny catches up in a moment. 'Do your parents know about everything?' The very idea of supportive parents in this kind of situation was completely foreign to her. 'This is a really nice place by the way, it must have been nice to grow up here.'
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Post by Lysander Bassarov on Jul 8, 2005 19:40:02 GMT -5
I nod, and catch up with the other two.
"You know... it seems to me that Russia would not be a wise place to hide from Aleks. Don't get me wrong, I appreciate it, but... Eh, maybe im just paranoid. I mean, its not like she has the mafia after me or anything!"
I chuckle.
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Post by sonjasorokin on Jul 8, 2005 19:47:14 GMT -5
'What did you do to this girl anyway?' Sonny asked Lysander. 'I mean, a girl has to be pretty pissed off to send a hit man after you, or maybe I'm just underestimating her. Either way I'm guessing that this isn't over drinking the orange juice out of the carton.'
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Post by Valodya Bassarov on Jul 8, 2005 19:49:42 GMT -5
"This city is pretty remote, Lysander." Bassarov assures him.
"I don't talk politics with my parents. They are pretty apolitical. They know, but don't approve of it." He replies and they get on one of the trolley buses. The bus takes them across the city, which is a contrast of gray and green. The grass of parks and lawns is shaggy and unkept. Birch trees line the streets. Buildings are in want of paint, chipped and grey. They pass monumental grey apartment buildings, all identical in shape, size, and color. Each are drab and angular.
They finally arrive at the apartment his parents live in. Unlike in the United States, people tend not to own their own homes, thus there are fewer neighborhoods of individual houses.
The arrive at the apartment after 20 minutes, and travel up seven narrow flights of stairs in a building which must house 500 apartments. He knocks on the door and his mother comes to the door. His father is not in.
Bassarov's mother, Masha, is about 5'4 and a medium set. She is wearing a jean skirt and a shirt with a large sunflower on the chest. Her brown is unkept, her face worry worn, and her eyes are tired. She is a kindly woman, who is a little reserved, and teaches primary school.
"Hello mother, I am back for a while and I have some friends with me. This is Lysander, Helene, and Sonja." Bassrov says after giving her a hug. He enters the apartment and beacons the others to follow.
Masha puts some water boiling for tea and everyone goes to the living room to sit. On the wall is a large tapestry, which is common in Russian apartments, since the walls are poorly insulated, and having a tapestry on the wall keeps the room warm. There are some icons in the corner.
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Post by Lysander Bassarov on Jul 8, 2005 19:52:04 GMT -5
I go in and sit down in the living room.
"I did nothing! One day, I realized that our relationship was going no where. That, and she was a horible person. So, I left. She just has to have things her own way. Shes a horid, spoiled, rich capitalist."
I shudder.
"I mean, I left her a note and everything!"
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Post by soledad on Jul 8, 2005 19:56:47 GMT -5
I think about what Jose said and try to come up with something we can do.
It seems hopeless here.
"Maybe there are other people working in this country. Maybe we could work with human rights people here. They may have the information we need, and human rights people usually are more immune to attack. We could even pretend to be human rights activists to fit in with them."
"And we are human rights activists, kind of. So it is not a lie." I suggest to Jose.
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Post by Valodya Bassarov on Jul 8, 2005 20:00:15 GMT -5
Bassarov's mother introduces herself, then goes to the kitchen to let them talk. His father aparently is visiting some other relatives. He was never close with his father and is glad that he isn't around.
"I am sure you will be safe here Lysander, so don't worry. I don't think she would be able to find you here." He replies.
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Post by sonjasorokin on Jul 8, 2005 20:04:26 GMT -5
'Fair enough,' Sonny shrugs. 'Kudos for the note, at least you tried.'
'Privet, Rad znakomstvu.' Sonny greets Masha, feeling a little out of place. She looks about the room, her eyes like magnets to the icons in the corner. She noticed that one was a patron saint of Russian, Nicholas of Myra. Sonny recalled from her childhood orthodox teachings that he had raised to life three young boys who had been murdered and pickled in a barrel of brine to hide the crime. She felt silly for a moment. It was ridiculous. At least she wasn't the only one who believed it.
'Are you feeling alright, Bassarov?' Sonny's attention switches. He looks troubled.
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Post by stacy on Jul 8, 2005 20:06:16 GMT -5
*Stacy smiled and cradled Angeal in her arms.*
"Yes. Very adorable."
*Stacy gentily moved her head up to kiss Shizue.*
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Post by shizue on Jul 8, 2005 20:11:49 GMT -5
I kissed Stace gently and stroke gently Aingeal's hair.
"She such a cute baby and its a good thing that your mom is dead or she might us."
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