//REALLY Wanna Be HERE? {OPEN}

[modernmotz]

Alyona would like to say coming here was a job assignment. She'd also like to say she was really looking forward to it; comfortable with it. But all of those would be false. And lies weren't an enjoyable part of her lifestyle. Of course, this was her first time coming to Russia, the land of her ancestors. That was technically exciting. But everything about it had an uncomfortable, suspicious aura about it.

Firstly, she'd been assigned by a magazine she hadn't exactly heard of before. She'd looked it up online, and yes it did exist (excessive signs of paranoia), but it was low-key. Secondly, no magazine in their right mind would pay for a photographer's trip on their first assignment. No matter how popular (okay, that was a lie, but in all truth, she wasn't famous...at all). And third, she remembered faintly stories her uncle told her of Russia.

How, yes, this was where her root's began. But also how her kind were persecuted, were meant to be massacred. How she wasn't even meant to exist. The mere thought of being in the same country as where that began gave her shivers. Of course, that could of been the chilly air as well.

It wasn't snowing, but the air was chilly. Above her, the sky was clear, except for a few puffs of clouds here and there. The sun was shining in that glaring way that meant it knew it was cold, and it was fighting to make the land warm. All signs of winter, and cold weather. Both things Alonya just didn't like, despite her blood lines. But, alas, she was here on a job assignment. A fully paid job assignment, at that.

One she couldn't exactly shirk.

Before her was a tree, winding around itself. Its bark was worn, with knobs here and there, and old looking branches. It was huge, and it looked like it had been fighting to live for quite a long time. Aloyna couldn't help the wry smile that came to her lips...they had something in common. Well, she herself hadn't been fighting, but the point was there.

She flexed her fingers, to try and dispel the cold there, wincing just slightly at the pins and needles feeling. They moved, instinctively, to the camera, held by a neckstrap, and pulled it up to her face, so her eye could peek through to the picture. It was a gorgeous sight, so ancient, so surreal.

Click...
Clickclickclick...

That was good. Enough of that to satisfy her mysterious employers. Her assignment was rather simple. Find something that portrayed a fairy tale. Something that you could see in Hansel and Gretel, or Snow White. It was for a spread they were doing, about Russia, specifically.

"It would've looked better if it was snowing," she murmured, the corner of her mouth coming up in a slight smile. It was hard to smile in this insufferable cold, but she allowed herself this one. And it was pretty...

[° Rayna °]

Ah, Russia. It had been less than a week since my last visit. What could I say? I frequented a dangerous area, maybe for the kicks or maybe to sincerely help others. Whatever the case was a morning found me on a redeye and an evening or two later here I was. Naturally there was quite a bit less formality in traveling since I had grown so accustomed to doing it. I packed a single backpack, wore comfortable shoes, jeans and a hoody. It was grunged down for the most part but in my bag were the work clothes. A pair of professional looking glasses that I didn’t need – second measure to hide the line of my contacts, suit pants and a button down blouse coupled with a pair of no-nonsense navy heels was certain to draw some attention.

Thankfully the Russians were somewhat formal themselves and so my presence wasn’t so lucratively conspicuous I had to constantly glance over my shoulder. Even if it were necessary I doubt I would have. I listened first. To the pace of their footsteps and their breathing and lastly if it was quiet enough their heartbeats. It wasn’t too much dissimilar from how a snake could tell things about its surroundings without moving more than a single tick of its skull. A frightening metaphor but ah well. I pulled a jacket on over the suit top as I finished changing in the airline’s bathroom, leaving my informal clothes on the stall floor. At that point I took off my lacey gloves as well. No need to hide those prints now.

It would appear I had taken care of each minor detail to the letter. That was how I functioned best – slightly OCD but it hardly mattered. There was no one for me to annoy. Dark locks were pulled back into a low ponytail, sultry lips tugging themselves into a firm, thin line that stated, under no uncertain terms, Back the hell off. I was a no-nonsense girl with no-nonsense business and no time to fret with others who did have personal drama. Exiting the airport, finally, I strode down the walkway, my nostril cavities now put in overdrive as they searched. Ideally there would be someone nearby who needed assistance. Why did I continue this search? There were always more.

It wasn’t my nose that discovered her though – it was my lobes. Click. Over and over – a camera. My cranial zenith had already snapped towards the sound, slate oculi perusing the scenario in a meandering and, somehow simultaneously, slicing, manner. A lean blonde feline was currently taking snapshots of a gnarled, scar ridden tree, a spectacle I noted grimly; pausing before I approached. After all I would like at least some notes before I faced this new cat. Not having anything up my sleeve with Daemon had proved a mistake, perhaps this would go better if I did know a little something about her. [iSnow.[/i] I caught the word whispered on the breeze and a faint smirk attempted to peek through.

A romantic? Bah. Casually approaching now, I feigned a leisurely appearance – calm and at peace. Though I was mostly placid there was always a bit of angst to be had in Rayna Petrova. ”The first snow is always beautiful.” I remarked, not apologizing for having appeared to eavesdrop. She would think what she liked despite what I said to her. Words were just words.[/color][/size]

[modernmotz]

Alyona flinched violently at the sentence. It pierced through the cold silence like a knife, ruining the dreamy fairytale-scape she'd immersed herself in. Usually she wouldn't be so shocked, but she was preoccupied. She waited a moment to calm herself, as much as possible, before turning to face the woman who spoke to her.

The figure before her didn't look like the kind of person to strike up a conversation. No, she looked like the kind of person to ignore others, and then snap at them if they tried to speak; even if, at the moment, she looked calm. Intimidating, to say the least. But, she'd spoken, it'd only be polite to reply. She turned back to face the tree.

"Yeah," she spoke, quietly, yet loud enough for the person behind her to hear. "We don't get it, where I'm from. And I don't travel much, so it's rare I get to see it." She chuckled ever so slightly to herself. "I'm simply mourning over the fact that I don't get to see it this time..."

She snapped one more picture, humming in appreciation. Then she turned to fully face the woman. Her eyes flitted over her outfit, quickly. Native, perhaps. Though, she didn't speak in Russian. Bilingual? And she was dressed rather formally. Once again, Alonya regretted packing t-shirts, and hoodies. She'd expected to feel out of place in the village, but even at the air port (it was an absolutely awful flight), everyone looked like buisness people. Hell, even the young people.

Pushing her thoughts aside, she spoke. "Is there something I can help you with?" she asked, inclining her head in a delayed greeting.

[° Rayna °]

The obvious grimace that resulted from my quiet sentence induced the arch of a brow at her sudden change of character. What an odd sort. Surely…no she hadn’t heard me. A quiet sneer made its way over my countenance. So easily impressed upon. First impressions are fairly important and this individual had failed to impress me in the slightest. Perhaps this was because I had come to the conclusion that those who could not control their own responses to other people were weak. Malleable like clay and given to melting away into nothingness. Useless sorts. As she responded to my words I listened but much less intensely to her words.

Frankly I perceived her as something of a boring individual, a meek mousey creature who despite her looks was stuck in something of a juvenile sense of self. She was so not in her own element that it was difficult to deal with others. Narrowing my gaze, it was a sheer blessing that I had thought of contacts or I would appear quite the predator at present. ”If it makes you feel better, snow loses its charm after the first day.” It gets dirty and in the way. Blinking slowly as she clicked another shot and turned towards her.

While my accent was sultry in my placidity it was evident I was in my element. One of the many elements I had grown accustomed to at least. There was no single element I claimed as my own really. That would mean some sort of dependency on that thing and we simply couldn’t have that. I had to be flexible in what I depended on and prepared for it to fail so that when it did I could power on to a separate route altogether without faltering or dragging others down with me. That was always a plus. Strength in preparation of course.

Breezily straightening the front of the sport coat I wore, I watched the she-cat’s quick attempt at a subtle looking over. That was fine. I had grown accustomed to being sized up. After all who would take me seriously if I crumpled under the pressure of a skeptical glance? In fact I believe my confidence was tangible as I stood there and allowed this mockery of my persona. She was entitled to have doubts or curiosities though if more of the latter she would probably be disappointed to some degree.

Her apparel was definitely more lax than my own but then again she had valid reason for being here. Russians responded well to work visas which was probably what she had received in order to get into the country to take her cute little photos. She was safe to some degree, thus my relaxed demeanor. Poor Daemon had received the opposite end of that stick now hadn’t he? Smirking in remembrance, it took a moment for me to drag myself out of that yesterday and back into the here and now. What was she saying now? Offering help?

”Help me?” I questioned with a quiet frown which slowly molded itself into an amused expression, lips twitching with what could be construed as a laugh imprisoned – that’s exactly what it was actually. ”Not at all. I simply noted certain…similarities and thought I might enjoy a conversation in comfortable companionship.” The words were carefully constructed to fit a leisure, civilian conversation at this point. Mostly because the moment I said she risked death here she would get all tense and teary eyed. I liked to save the truth til I was certain it was necessary and at present we were in fairly good shape as far as being watched as. I had managed to leave the airport without followers thanks to my quick change of clothing. Let us hope their ignorance took its time to vanish.

[modernmotz]

She couldn't help the empty smile that came to her lips. "Comfortable companionship? That seems awfully far-fetched. Why, you don't even know my name." She couldn't say she actually wanted to remain in the presence of this strange woman. She did make Alyona a little nervous. Although, that could just be because she'd never spoken to her before, but either way, the cold solitude was preferable.

Though, it was rather nice to not have to scourge her mind for broken Russian phrases, and try to guess her way around the village. Foreign languages were never her strong suit. Her small knowledge of other dialects definitely made it hard to travel too much, and she'd come to appreciate people who could speak English.

And yet, this person had a fierce, distinctly predatory look. Like...well, a lot like how her Uncle Dimitri had looked. Though, he always had a smile on his face when he saw his Little 'Yona. Hm...she could always be a werecat.

...

Alyona almost choked on her breath, and forced herself to remain composed. Her eyes quickly took in all of the woman's features, again. She bit the the inside of her cheek in, not so much a particularly nervous habit, but more of a comforting one. She hadn't talked to a real werecat since her uncle. And that didn't really count...