Sisbera
Obsessive Cultist
Sisbera
Obsessive Cultist
There was something there; he knew it. A darkness that seemed to erupt the girl nearest him. A sneer tugged at his lip as he had read it; smelt it. It was like a predator that had found another predator to play with. One that was much smaller than himself; weaker. However, Ivan pushed it off for now. The whisper in his ear that invited him to play would be silenced for the time being. Instead, his attention moved across the compartment and to the smaller female. She was nice, dressed in a couture that he knew nothing about though Russian's weren't known for their fashion. He was dressed in a double-buttoned peacoat, gold buttons running all the way up to his shoulders though they served no real purpose. The collar was folded down, one side tucked beneath the other. Beneath it was the start of his uniform, the white button-down with it's own collar that poked out the top of his peacoat and the Slytherin tie that was coiled around his neck and disappeared down the front of the garment. His pants were black, pressed with the line down the length of them and shined dress shoes that seemed rather large and for good reason. Ivan was rather large in height though his frame lean which caused for him to duck through things most times. He wasn't quite as tall as Hagrid was but...who was?
Gray hues narrowed just a little, the edges wrinkling as he smiled at her. It seemed far more malicious than anything though the feeling behind it was anything but. Russians were rather serious individuals and smiling, especially in public, was frowned upon. In fact, if one did decide to laugh or smile they would think that you were crazy and so Ivan rarely did it. His demeanor melted in to a more serious one only seconds after, the smile fading quickly. “Thet very kind.” And it was considering that it was rare when anyone offered him anything. Usually the sat quietly behind and allowed for him to do everything himself. Though his close friends helped out as much as they could, Ivan was more of a lone wolf. He did everything himself and yet when it was offered it was something to be remembered and he would not completely reject the idea of it.
Ivan's eyes returned to the other female, the one with large assets. Apparently, as she had claimed, her name was Aislin Rosier and they both belonged to the Quidditch team yet he could not place her until she had told him what position she played and another malicious grin tugged at the edge of his lips, the dimple becoming more prominent now; more defined. This one was meant to be malicious and with everything feeling behind it as he had smelt something that roused something within him. A voice that hissed back at the one that hissed from Aislin. “Da. You ere looking at new Ceptein.” He leaned forward just a little, bracing himself against the wood framing of the door. It was as if he were challenging her, beckoning her in to his own darkness and drawing her in. It was a challenge in his own right as he now had the power to reject her from the team. Ivan practiced hard, worked hard and would be expecting the same out of his team. He wanted to be the best, better than the rest and would ensure that their team was one of the best; that they were a winning team. If she could handle the hard work then there wasn't a point in her staying on the team. “I essure you herd work needed.” Canting his head to the side, his gaze fell on Sabella again. “You try out, too?” She hadn't been on the team, had she? He couldn't remember but then again he couldn't remember Aislin until she had said something and it had finally clicked. He had seen her a few times but never noted her style of play or how well she played. It was possible that Sabella had never even flown a broom let alone owned one.
Straightening his posture, Ivan leaned back and away from the two. Out of the compartment as he had practically invited himself in by leaning in toward them. These two were interesting enough but Ivan's interest in them was fleeting. Even with the hiss that came from Aislin though he suspected the smaller “hunter” didn't even notice it. He suspected that she wasn't aware of the darkness that was creeping through her but then again, pasts were always an interesting thing and played a very interesting part in people's futures as well as how they developed. Though Ivan knew nothing of the female that was now known to be on the same Quidditch team he was, sooner or later he'd find out. Whether or not she told him directly or someone else did. Information just seemed to circle through like vicious rumors. You couldn't sneeze in a goblet without everyone finding out.
His entire body stiffened when his native language escaped the other female's lips and he stared at her for a moment. What.. was this? She didn't smell of Russian blood nor look it. Had she studied the language and he just so happened to run across her? He grinned just a little, taking every invitation that was thrown his way now. “Вы говорите на моем языке? Изучали ли Вы его? Я не очень хорошо говорю по-английски. Это мой второй язык.” He smirked and leaned back toward her again, his voice low and as he hissed. “Я чувствую запах тьму внутри вас.” Another smirk, this one darker as gray eyes darkened as well. This year would be very, very interesting and he was looking forward to every moment of it.