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After spending a day hopping planes and being shoved around airports like livestock, Anatoli didn't much look forward to spending more time in yet another moving vehicle. Even though this was the very last leg of his trip, he certainly wouldn't care if he didn't have to step onto another damned flying contraption again.

The loud roaring of the helicopter blades drowned out most of the man's thoughts, the rest quietly sedated by the sleeping pills Anatoli had been taking throughout the day. Thus, he was silent for most of his trip and in a perpetual state of drowsiness. It was probably a good thing, for had he been more alert he likely would have found some topic or another to chew James' ear off with.

Somewhere halfway through the flight, he had fallen asleep and didn't seem to notice or wake up when the island started to come into view through the helicopter's windows.

"Mmn." Anatoli blearily cracked open an eyelid, pushing his glasses up to the bridge of his nose and yawning to make his ears unpop.

"Almost there?" He asked weakly and with a lazy smile. "Great. I'll be glad to finally get my feet on some solid ground. I hate flyin'." Rubbing at his eyes beneath the glasses, he arched his back and stretched as much (or as little) as he could, given the amount of space he had to move around.

With the dexterity and grace of a drunk man, Anatoli wobbled off the helicopter with his cat carrier in one hand, his baggage in the other (and some of it even clumsily piled on top of the carrier as the man strained to hold it up). His feet touched the ground, and immediately it felt like his legs were turning into jello. The wind from the helicopter's blades badly mussed his hair and blew his fedora off, the green kippah he wore beneath the hat only staying in place due to a hairclip.

"Oh, confound it," he muttered at the loss of his hat, as he certainly was in no position to go after it and pick it up with his hands being full. Looking up from the ground where the hat was sitting just a few feet before him, he spotted one redhead before him as he forced an awkward smile.

"Ah, good day to you, sir!"

"And how," Anatoli nodded. He briefly sat his suitcase onto the pavement and bent down to collect his fedora, replacing it firmly on his head once the helicopter was gone. He delicately loads his bags and the carrier into the back of the jeep, before sidling into the passenger seat.

Taking off his hat and setting it in his lap, he fastened his seatbelt and gave another tired yawn. At least it was a jeep this time, and not another plane. "Lemme tell ya, I don't care how long ya keep me heeah, but I don't think I wanna see anotha plane at any point in tha near future." He made a face and waved his hand dismissively.

"Excellent, excellent," he crooned, thrumming his fingers along the top of his fedora. "Quite a place ya got. Bet there ain't any taxes since you're outta tha States. I'm surprised I didn't have ta use my passport in order ta get heeah."

He adjusted his glasses once more, leaning back into the jeep's seat. "It'll be nice ta finally get some rest afta today. On one'a tha flights some kid kept kickin' tha back ah my seat for houas."

It was hard not to make some snide comment about owning a private jet. After all, this guy had his own island. The man climbed out of the jeep, again stuck with wooziness as he hit ground. Those planes really did a number on him, and had he no inhibitions, he'd be crawling around kissing the floor and praying that by the time he has to go back, teleportation will be readily available as a mode of transportation.

"Yeah, I brought all ah what I could find. Old books, family photo albums from a few generations past, ya know." He lugged a particularly heavy-looking suitcase out of the back of the jeep. "All in heeah."

"Haven't had tha time ta go through all ah 'em, but what I found was, quite frankly, kinda strange. Like I read it in a sci-fi book or somethin'," Anatoli said, taking the suitcase along with him as he sets it on the table.

"I'd even go as far as saying it was some kinda story or joke myself, but even tha baby book from my great-great grandmotha has passing mentions ah some of tha bizaah stuff I found in those journals. I can't explain it," he said, his tone almost exasperated. The old books handwritten by his great-great grandmother perplexed and horrifed him, and yet they captivated his mind all the same.

"I'd love to see 'em, I'll show ya mine if ya show me yours," Anatoli said jokingly, opening the suitcase and laying out an assortment of dusty journals and books, their covers worn and pages yellowed with age.

"Before I show ya my notes, whaddya already know about tha guy?" He motioned to the stack of notes already present on the table.