|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
 Posted: Fri Jun 28, 2013 4:02 pm
Smiles never lasted long on Kozel's face. Maybe because true contentedness was rare and fleeting, quick to be replaced by more-familiar negative feelings like fear, shock, disgust... Or, in this case, embarrassment as Zharkov caught his slip-up into formality, the teasing screwing his smile back into a self-conscious frown as he slouched over, muttering a bashful apology into his tea. If Zharkov was full of surprises, Kozel was simple to understand: entirely too easy to rile up. It certainly didn't help that there was something about this man that made him even more jittery than usual. Despite that, he still found himself enjoying his company.
Now, if only Zharkov could remain the only company here. Just as Kozel was about to answer his question, clearing his throat and trying to resettle, the beast came over again and he straightened up, tense, only vaguely registering something about Northport. He would have liked to ask, but as he watched the cat, he found to his horror it was approaching him again and seemingly growling. Eyes widening in horror, Kozel pulled his legs away from the creature and whimpered to Zharkov. "It is growling at me! What did I do?! Zh-Zharkov should I leave?" That was it, it was clearly being territorial! Standing up, he backed up from the no-doubt confused grimalkin. This is exactly the reason why pets shouldn't be allowed.
|
 |
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
Posted: Fri Jun 28, 2013 9:00 pm
Zharkov couldn't help but chuckle at the drastic change in the poor man's expression, and his mumbled apology. It was almost enough to make him feel guilty, but not quite. "It is alright! I am only joking." he tried to reassure Kozel, wondering if he really was being a bit too informal himself. Ah, but they were countrymen, weren't they? It was quite possible that Kozel was finding his demeanor wholely improper, but then, he had been the one to offer to bring tea. Zharkov had the sneaking suspicion that it wasn't one of Kozel's usual jobs. Not in a scuzzy little inn like this where the pay was probably abysmal.
What happened as he waited for Kozel's response to his question caught him quite off guard, and for the millionth time that night he was biting back laughter. "What? Growling?" Zharkov bit his tongue. He was sure if he cracked, Kozel would probably leave. "Kozel, it is a cat, not a tiger. He is purring, he likes you. Trust me...you would know if he were growling." He took another sip of his tea and leaned back in his chair. "Surely you have heard the purr of a cat. It's supposed to be a content sound." He reached down and clicked his tongue, trying to draw the purring menace away from his startled victim.
Whisky offered up a quiet meow as Kozel rose from his seat, his ears giving a flick before sauntering lazily back towards Zharkov.
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
Posted: Fri Jun 28, 2013 11:06 pm
Having had experience only with horses, out of necessity, and hounds, through mostly negative experiences, Kozel knew nothing of this "purring" business. What he did know was that he didn't like how dismissive Zharkov was. "I am quite aware it is not a tiger, thank you," he managed to sound as indignant as he felt as opposed to how fearful he looked, pale eyes still tracking the beast as it made its retreat.
With the cat gone, at this point Kozel wanted to leave more for his ignorance being revealed to this man than fear of encroaching on the creature's territory. But still, for how much of a fool he had been making of himself tonight, Zharkov seemed patient with him, if not almost careless. A welcome change, somehow, when before he had been expecting this man to be the difficult one. Suddenly awkward, he looked up from the grimalkin to its owner and back again, then sat down obediently, as prim as ever, eager to busy himself with another drink of his tea as he thought back to what they were speaking of. Finally, setting the cup back down, Kozel spoke up.
"My apologies, I... do not know much about cats, this behavior is unknown to me," he explained lamely, then, eager to change the subject, moved on to what he last remembered. "To answer your previous question, yes, I have remained only in this city since I arrived. What brings you here, Zharkov?" Kozel's interest was piqued again as he remembered he never did get confirmation as to exactly where his supposed-countryman was from, leaning in. "Sunderland is quite the change from Belastrana."
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
Posted: Sat Jun 29, 2013 3:04 am
Zharkov pursed his lips in an ill-concealed smile at Kozel's exasperation, trying to hide it by drinking his tea. Unfortunately, nothing could cover up the mischievous glint in his eyes, and he reached down to scritch Whisky's back and flick the end of his tail as he came wandering back. Almost as if he knew what was going on, the cat stopped beneath Zharkov's chair and sprawled out on the floor, no longer interested in his human companions.
He was relieved when Kozel finally took his seat again. How could he be anything but laid back around someone as jumpy as Kozel was turning out to be? Being gruff or aggressive would be a wasted effort, and he didn't care to scare him off just yet. He only hoped that Whisky would cooperate, as it would be silly to send Kozel packing by the actions of a harmless kitten. It was hard not to think about the hilarity of mistaking a purr for a growl, though...
"It is alright. Cats aren't for everyone, I suppose." He accepted the apology, satisfied enough to move along and mercifully abstain from giving Kozel the ribbing he so badly deserved for being so jumpy over a -purring cat-. No...that would probably embarrass him right out of the room. Maybe out of the whole inn. "Business. Better work opportunities, and of course, even Belestrana is having its troubles. I have grown tired of it, to be truthful. Moving seemed like the best course of action, and I took the chance when it came. How about you? What brought you to this place?"
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
Posted: Sat Jun 29, 2013 1:30 pm
It really was a good thing Zharkov didn't press him any longer on the cat as chances are, yes, Kozel would have been embarrassed right out of the inn just when the conversation was turning interesting. Those embarrassments forgotten for the moment, he regarded his companion thoughtfully. He really wouldn't have considered this man the business-minded type at first, but he respected that. Perhaps Zharkov's gruff countenance was more the result of a life spent struggling in a country in turmoil than a life spent, as he had assumed, drinking and brawling. Kozel was the judgmental type, true, and he never imagined a pretty picture for anyone.
Fortunate that Zharkov would never have to know what a low opinion Kozel had had of him at first, and anyway, he'd still given him a chance, right? Right! Swallowing his shame along with another drink of tea, he considered the question turned back on him, the question he had both been dreading and expecting. It was not as though Kozel would ever tell Zharkov the truth, of course, but he could imagine it clearly, laughed right out of the room, mocked for trying to come off as a big shot before he could even finish his explanation of "exiled for conspiracy." If Zharkov didn't look like a businessman, Kozel didn't look like a subversive. The thought had his face burning as he stared down sullenly into his cup of tea, down at the reflection of a gaunt and anxious man who only ever got swept up in bad circumstances.
So he'd lie, as he always did. "My story is similar. The unrest of Belastrana became too much, Okraina and Katchia were not much better—" he glanced up for a reaction, if any, from Zharkov as he continued, "—so I thought I would look for opportunity elsewhere." It was his hope that Zharkov, still fresh from the country, would have news of the conflict, but a part of him was still afraid to ask outright. He wasn't quite sure what affiliations he should have to appease this man, but if Zharkov was from Belastrana proper, he could only assume he opposed Katchia's independence. The thought stirred up bitter feelings, too bitter, so he stirred some sugar into his tea with a quiet sigh, allowing a brief moment of honesty. "This is probably the best opportunity I will ever have." For all the talking up Kozel did, they both knew this inn really had nothing to offer at all.
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
Posted: Sat Jun 29, 2013 5:50 pm
Zharkov did not pick up on the man's lie right away, attributing his sulk and blush to the embarrassment dealt to him by his mischievous feline. He had no inkling of the more sly thoughts running beneath the surface of Kozel's jumpy demeanor, and was practically allowing his own judgements to run his reactions as well. Kozel was still a harmless acquaintance in his mind, someone he might or might not befriend. Who knew, with how long he'd been living in Sunderland, he could prove to be a useful ally. Zharkov did react when the latter two countries were mentioned, perking up with interest, grin darkening again in his characteristic way.
"Oh, I see. So, the conflict there affected you as well? I am from Okraina, but I have been living in Belestrana for the last couple of years. Never imagined the trouble would spread so quickly." He admitted his native country casually, but did not press Kozel for the same information; after talking to him at length, he was almost certain of the origins of Kozel's accent. There was a sort of predatory glimmer as he watched for a reaction in turn, though he made it a point not to stare, his body language remaining relaxed and casual as they continued their 'friendly' conversation. "It grows worse back home with each passing day. Always bad news." He let out a heavy breath that held an actual edge of unhappiness as he admitted it. He had no idea how well-connected Kozel was to his homeland, but he assumed the knowledge that the three countries being gripped in turmoil was rather commonplace. It was both a gift and a curse to live in a port town as he did.
The next comment garnered a playfully derisive snort. "Are you sure about that? Places like this have a way of beating foreigners down. I am surprised you did not stick to Northport. Much better, in my opinion. Smaller, but more business, you know? Less about where you're from and more about getting things done." he tried to explain it as best he could.
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
Posted: Sat Jun 29, 2013 7:04 pm
At one time in his life, Kozel could have similarly concealed his reactions. Perhaps he might not have come off as casual as Zharkov, but he wouldn't have betrayed his feelings so easily. Granted, his feelings were rather muddled once Zharkov admitted his true homeland, but his reaction was one of alarm as he sat back tensed, almost in a recoil. Unlike his companion, Kozel did stare in a gaze too intense to be just listening, unsure of how to gauge him now. His reflex was to find this man an enemy, part of a subservient nation fighting to keep his own down, but hadn't he come to find Okrainans his comrades, too? He'd worked with them, and in fact lived in Okraina after the ordeal with his brother. After he'd turned traitor.
Kozel tried to tell himself it shouldn't have to matter anymore, because this wasn't Belastrana or Okraina or Katchia, this was a country they had both fled to—well, he hesitated to apply "fleeing" to Zharkov, but it was with the intention of escaping the conflict. This supposed "enemy" had been amiable enough during their time together, did Kozel expect him to immediately grow hostile if he found out he was Katchian? Nonsense. But he still wouldn't tell.
Finally looking away, he decided there were bigger things to worry about. Namely, "Bad news. I see." The fact that only the slightest tremor caught in his voice was testament to the fact that Kozel hadn't completely forgotten his ability to keep measured when needed after all. Despite the cold ache in his chest, the image of his brothers resurfacing in his mind when that was usually reserved for sleepless nights, he kept himself together. It wouldn't do to show any further weakness in front of this man, but all the same Kozel wasn't sure how long he could keep it up so he deflected the topic, onto Northport, not that it was any better. The thought of losing his place, no matter how meager it really was, frightened Kozel. Still, Zharkov had a way of making it sound appealing. Less about where you're from and more about getting things done. Was that his own philosophy, too?
"I do have vague memories of Northport, but I thought it would be easier to... assimilate in the capital," he admitted, not that it how worked out for him much. He managed a cynical smile, another rare concession Zharkov managed to draw out of him. "Perhaps you are right in that it is more like beating down." For a second he almost considered the idea of relocating, but it was too sudden, and too improper to talk about other job prospects while, well, on the job. Still, he was curious. "What is it that you do there, Zharkov?"
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
Posted: Sun Jun 30, 2013 4:47 am
There it was, the reaction that Zharkov had been waiting for, and the confirmation to his assumptions. Though it wasn't as strong, the man did have the right accent for it, and he was certain now that Kozel was from Katchia, or had lived there for some time. It almost felt villainous to do what he was doing, and he met the man's pale gaze with his own grey-green eyes for a moment, unbothered by the short stretch of awkward silence. Zharkov could tell that Kozel was intimidated, and he wondered just how much the rivalry between their nationalities meant to him. It certainly meant very little to Zharkov, too jaded to care for such trivial details when they had both been removed from the war and their countries for so long. There were no enemies for Zharkov in that sense anymore, only rivals and allies in a day-to-day sense. Whatever nationalistic sentiments he'd had had long since been bled out of him by years of fighting and hardship.
Perhaps that rivalry didn't mean much to Kozel either. Perhaps it was a ballsy thing to admit for Zharkov too, because did Kozel not present an equally significant threat? He probably had access to the rooms, the food that was served...but, ahh, there he went, thinking those paranoid thoughts. The man sitting before him was too much of a coward for such things. Too jittery to plan an attack on a complete stranger. It was silly to think such things, when truly they were just two people trying to find their way through the foreign world in which they'd been displaced.
"Da. The war slogs along, back home." He said with a sigh and a shake of his head, his voice somber as he glanced away. The wavering tone in the other's voice had not gone unnoticed by him, but he wouldn't pry yet. He would let Kozel have his secrecy, if it made him feel better, if it kept them talking. He wouldn't allow himself to think on it very long, and cleared his throat a bit, trying to put on a grin as Kozel asked another question of his life in the port city.
"I am a dock worker, for the most part. Sometimes other small jobs, mostly labor. Plenty of work to be found in Northport." He explained, his smile widening naturally. It was hard work, to be sure, but Zharkov liked to think it wasn't nearly as thankless as some kinds of jobs. Often times he was working with other foreigners anyway, and there was a sense of being in the same boat as other people. "Usually good pay, too. This place treating you very well, Kozel?"
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
Posted: Sun Jun 30, 2013 9:49 pm
Glum as he always was, especially now with the thought of his brothers lingering in his mind, Kozel generally found the good moods of others disheartening at best and irritating at worst. It was odd to think it could be comforting, but sure enough, Zharkov's grin somewhat reassured him. Deespite the man obviously having troubles of his own, he managed to smile, moved on, seemed pleased with his place now. He expected to have felt disdain for this man once his worst fears had been confirmed, but those fears were clearly unfounded. The topic of home was out of the way; Zharkov hadn't even pried and nothing had changed between them. Although Kozel looked no less tense settled on the edge of his chair, it was although a weight had lifted from him, dread dissipating as he felt more at ease. Now, if that grimalkin would remain absent, the rest of the night would surely pass by swimmingly.
Oh, but so much for Zharkov being a tradesman as Kozel had assumed earlier. Just a simple laborer instead—not that there was anything wrong with that, no, of course not!, but work like that was never Kozel's strong point and whatever vague interest he might have felt about a new job in Northport waned. As he considered the best way to answer Zharkov's question, Kozel tried his now hopefully sweeter tea, and decided "Not bad. It keeps me busy, certainly, but it is honest work for honest pay." He'd made more of his displeasure obvious before, but there was the slightest hint of arrogance in his voice now as he set his cup down. It wasn't as glamorous as he would have liked, but it was better than toiling outside, not that he didn't think he could do it. "I meet all sorts of people passing through." Normally, he didn't even like most of the people he met, so why was he mentioning that like it was a good thing?
Because it wasn't always so bad. He was grateful to have been able to meet Zharkov tonight, and felt guilty for having looked down on him, if even a little. It wasn't like he had much more than him. A bad habit of his, always looking for something to make himself feel better than others, be it nationality, profession, so on. "You must also meet many people," he added, more sheepishly now. He could just imagine the unpleasant sorts Zharkov had to deal with, but he kept that to himself. Another thought occurred to him, anyway, that had his interest in Northport rekindled. "Have you met any more of our countrymen?"
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
Posted: Mon Jul 01, 2013 6:36 pm
"That is good. There seem to be many thankless jobs that get foisted onto the foreigners here, but that's nothing new. As long as that pay stays -honest-." Zharkov was tempted for a moment to ask just how good Kozel's pay was, but he abstained from it, knowing it would be a bit too nosy and inappropriate (and because he'd pushed too far otherwise). While his tone was one of simple observation, there was hidden bitterness in them. It was going to be difficult to get into a more comfortable living situation, and he almost envied Kozel, who almost definitely had a place to stay on a regular basis. Zharkov was still stuck shifting around, always paying to stay a few nights at whichever inn. It would be ideal to find a permanent residence.
"I do meet many people, and yes, plenty of our countrymen come through. Well...mostly. Most of them are Belastranian, but I suppose it is to be expected." He mused with a grin, Belastrana being the larger country and all. There was one other Okrainan in the little gang of 'friends' he had, but the rest were all Belastranian, and since they were neighbors with similar cultures he was completely fine with it. "You see people from all over in Northport. It can be quite interesting. Even a little rowdy sometimes." He said, taking the last sip of his tea. He leaned over to pour himself another cup, and moved to do the same as Kozel had, stirring just a bit of sugar into it. He wasn't one for sweet drinks, but it had been a long time since he'd partaken of any tea and was curious about its taste.
"So, Kozel. Where do you reside in Palisade, anyway? Nearby, or do they provide board here, perhaps? If it is not too forward to ask, that is." He inquired, merely wishing to keep the conversation going.
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
Posted: Mon Jul 01, 2013 9:19 pm
Having had it hammered into him both by family and by nation that working was the greatest thing just about ever, it took a lot of restraint on Kozel's part not to pipe up about how there was truly no such thing as a thankless job and foreigners should be especially grateful, no "foisting" here, but he didn't want to put off his companion with his lecturing or, worse, start a dispute. So caught up in trying to prevent a tangent, he was oblivious to any bitterness Zharkov might have let slip, only giving a noncommittal nod. Kozel occasionally fell into such cynicism himself, but he didn't want to go so far as to consider his own work completely thankless...
Well, if there was one thing that gave him satisfaction, it was seeing Zharkov enjoying his tea. Here he would have figured the man would insist on something much stronger, and Kozel couldn't help but wonder if he didn't partake in some of the rowdier occasions down at Northport. The thought actually made him snort softly in amusement, about the closest to a laugh he'd ever allow. "We come from two different worlds, Zharkov." Truly, Kozel was loosening up.
He did get predictably paranoid at the question asked of him, but immediately tried to brush it off. Why should he feel worried? It was obvious enough, anyway, seeing as Zharkov was able to guess it. "I am provided board here, yes. I am fortunate—it means I never have to leave my job," he answered, no hint of joking in his voice now. It was both a blessing and a curse, really, but most days he considered it a blessing.
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
Posted: Tue Jul 02, 2013 1:36 am
It wasn't as if Zharkov himself had ever had any kind of cushy job, but at least he didn't have to go through condescending Sunderlandians to be able to get them in Belestrana. Despite the multitude of foreigners that moved through Northport, the majority of the city was run, of course, by the Sunderlandian natives. Even the commoners seemed like snobs half of the time, but it was to be expected, and Zharkov did his best to overlook those little problems and stick with the people he could most easily communicate with. He was a hard worker, of course, but he was also shrewd enough to seek out alternative solutions to his money problems, which he wouldn't dream of revealing to Kozel anytime soon.
He smiled when Kozel laughed, chuckling quietly himself in return, assuming the amusement was a result of his description of Northport life. "Yes, I suppose we do." He agreed, once again pleased that Kozel seemed to be lightening up a bit again. "This part of town certainly seems as if it could be a rather noisy place, too, though. It certainly seemed to be bustling when I was trying to find this inn." He commented, wondering if there truly was much of a difference. Both Palisade and Northport seemed like dirty, busy places, except for the fact that Palisade was much larger.
"That is good! You must have plenty of friends if you've been around here for two years." He mused, leaning back in his chair a bit as he sipped idley. He wrinkled his nose a bit, still grinning. "I can't imagine it would be easy living with coworkers all the time though." He wondered if Kozel had to share a room with anyone. It was a common occurrence, and Zharkov found himself splitting rent at times to save money, though he was struggling to make that happen less. Having a room to oneself was pretty nice, he had to admit, nice to have a little peace and quiet, and privacy, too.
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
Posted: Tue Jul 02, 2013 4:05 am
"Friends...?" It had been so long since he had been given the chance to speak of others that Kozel was almost tempted to start gossiping then and there. Or, at least, his version of gossip, which was more like harsh criticisms of a perceived lack of worth ethic and even harsher assumptions as to how anyone could ever get to such a slovenly point. It would be wholly improper, even if cathartic for Kozel and probably amusing for Zharkov, so he refrained, just shaking his head. "I have no friends here. I keep work relationships and personal relationships separate," he stated simply, but the underlying implication was obvious: Work was his life; he had no personal life to speak of.
Although that revelation was lost on him, the hypocrisy of what he was doing now, mixing work and leisure after all by having a teatime chat with a guest, seemed to suddenly hit him. "Ah, but I am glad you chose Fox and Hounds Inn to make your stay!" Kozel blurted, sounding more like the servant he was again. "Was there any particular reason you looked for Fox and Hounds specifically?" Aside from the fact that it was clearly the finest inn of western Palisade, he abstained from saying, not wanting to lay it on too thick. "Yes, Palisade can be noisy, but we hope you can find your peace of mind here." Alright, maybe he was still laying it on pretty thick.
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
Posted: Tue Jul 09, 2013 2:04 am
One eyebrow lifted as Kozel admitted his situation, a look of slight skepticism coming over Zharkov's face, as if he expected the man to be joking. He knew that wouldn't be the case, however, knowing well enough by now that it wouldn't be like the man before him to joke so offhandedly. "I see. You do not get lonely? That must be difficult when you live in the place you work." Zharkov mused. If he hadn't managed to make even one friend in the two years he'd been working at the inn, Zharkov pitied him. Networking and friendships (or at least polite acquaintances) were one of the key methods he'd used to make his way through the strange new place that was Sunderland.
Zharkov snorted softly at Kozel's sudden exclamation, and smirked again, leaning forward to rest his elbow on the table. "Not really. It was close to the river and I heard the rooms were cheap. Never expected it to have such...good service." he commented, his tone still playful and possibly even a bit sarcastic, even though the last bit held truth. He wasn't willing to talk about the real, business-related reasons for being there, but it had still been a nice surprise to find someone from his home country who was so friendly and accommodating. If Kozel worked at the inn, there was no doubt that they would run into each other again, and currently Zharkov saw no harm in it. "I am sure I will. It will be like a nice little business vacation." He set his cup down and bit back a yawn, glancing down as his feline companion slunk out from under his chair to wind around his ankles.
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
Posted: Thu Jul 25, 2013 6:27 pm
It had been a long time since Kozel had spoken about himself. As nervous as he had been about conversing, for fear of letting something dangerous slip, it was not wholly unpleasant to talk as two comrades, at least when he remembered to drop the servant shtick. He enjoyed Zharkov's rapt (probably mostly polite) attention, the occasional compliments—Kozel's obliviousness was a surprising facet to his otherwise hypercritical nature, as the sarcasm went undetected, instead earning a pleased look from him—and, most of all, he really was just lonely.
What sliver of pride Kozel had left would never permit him to admit it, though. "Of course I do not get lonely," he answered firmly, almost defensively despite himself. He didn't want Zharkov getting the wrong idea about this! Kozel would have argued the point further, but he clammed up immediately once he noticed the cat was moving about again. He could only think It is you who must be lonely, if you enjoy even the companionship of beasts!; didn't dare say it aloud, of course, but it was almost tempting as he wriggled uncomfortably in his seat, afraid it would come over to him again. Maybe it was about time he made his exit.
Not wanting to leave on a seemingly bad note, or, probably more accurately, not wanting to look like he was just trying to flee, Kozel tried a smile, dropping the defensive edge. "Ah, but it is getting late. You should rest up on this business... vacation." He suddenly realized he had no idea how long this guest was staying, having assumed it was only for the night and he could indulge in one teatime and that was that, but now Kozel almost felt, what was that, excitement? at the idea of maybe getting to know Zharkov a little more.
And somehow, that thought was more frightening than a damn cat any day. He was getting attached, when he said he wouldn't. "I would have liked to stay for another cup, but I really must be going." There was a strained calmness to Kozel as he folded his hands in his lap, fighting the urge to just grab the tray and retreat. "We are both busy men, but," oh no here it comes "perhaps another time...?" There, he admitted it. Maybe it wouldn't be so bad to be a bit friendlier, if only for a little while longer.
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
Reply
