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 Posted: Mon Aug 24, 2015 8:19 pm
The door through to the bunker was open, to facilitate a breeze in the sticky August weather. Kostya was stripped down from his normal coat and long sleeved shirt to a short sleeved shirt, which only made his new-found lacking feature more prominent. He was trying to tend to the garden, to restore some of the life to it. He'd pulled out a few screaming roots already, displeased at their presence. With only one hand, it was slow going, and given the dirt on his face and clothes, it wasn't the most successful thing. As Milo walked be, he'd see Kostya faceplant into a tomato plant, having failed to catch himself with his missing hand. And for a second, he just laid there, exhaling heavily. ******** this, he seemed to say, ******** this.
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Posted: Wed Aug 26, 2015 12:03 pm
It wasn't often that he ventured into the town. He could probably count each time on one hand and still not remember any of them. (America's birthday was one, wasn't it?) There was activity there, that much Milo knew, people lived there - or at least tried to - there was now a bar.
Now that it didn't seem like he was going to be pulled away to another outpost nor some strange going ons (looking at you Life Labs), and he had a tiny bit of down time, he decided to wander. Majority of the buildings were abandoned, many for good reason while a few seemed to have potential - oh hey, weren't some of that tournament hosted here? Very few actually looked to have been worked on.
< You should look into finding something here. With that cute little ghoul of yours. > He could almost see her grin. (Though, honestly, it wasn't a terrible idea...)
Milo continued to trudge on, his own coat now removed and slung on an arm since he began his trip into the town. He indeed walked by that bunker and witnessed just in time to see a familiar face suddenly fall into tomatoes. "Aa, dude!" No time was wasted for him to scramble over, carefully to mind the other plants and cultivated dirt piles that the Russian might have dug up along the way. "You okay?" Konstantin was just laying there. Milo leaned over and reached out a hand to shake his shoulder.
And that's when he noticed. "Holy s**t, when did that happen, brah?" Yes, the arm. How long had it been since he last saw this guy for this to happen?!
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Posted: Wed Aug 26, 2015 6:31 pm
Kostya turned a tired eye to Milo. "Two veeks ago. In the attack." He shook the other hunter's hand away, pushing himself up with a sigh. "I keep forgetting it is not there to catch me." He sighed, brushing dirt off himself. "Do not vorry. It does not hurt, I vill be fine. My veapon uses this arm anyvay."
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Posted: Sun Aug 30, 2015 11:00 am
Two weeks. Milo frowned, retracting his hand as it was dismissed. He pulled away, just a little. Just in case. He didn't recall Konstantin being in the Life Labs when he and Noemi had arrived to help (after his own sort of awesome adventures). That left, "aaa, dude, you were at the light house?" Because that thing had totally like blown up, as reports had said. Details he didn't have but at least the jist.
"But yeah, makes sense. You had that arm for years, brah and now suddenly you don't. Gotta be rough, ya." Still frowning, watching the Russian as he moved. "Sorry." For lack of anything else to say. At least Kon seemed to be in a good mindset about it. Hadn't lost his weapon, still felt capable. Was gardening.
Milo finally found his gaze shifting to his surroundings, finally noticing what exactly was around him. "So, this your new place or something?" Maybe Kon wouldn't mind a change in subject.
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Posted: Tue Oct 27, 2015 12:48 am
"Yes," Kostya confirmed with a grim expression. "Not best hour. For many reasons." He sighed, rocking back on his heels. Telling any more than that might not be wise; the few that knew the details kept relatively quiet about it. One of them likely had a distorted memory of all the events, given his delusions about the grandeur that was Lawrence Weiman. Who, in turn, had been oddly quiet about it. Strange. "Is fine," he said, "I vill get use to it eventually. No prosthetic, because need to verk vithout. In my opinion, anyvay. Vhat if got broken in combat? Better to learn and change if I can." He wasn't happy about it, but he was not the sort to grieve over that. The haunted look in his eyes, and the growing bags beneath them-- well. Kostya had very few close friends, and he'd lost the most important one of all. Following Milo's line of sight, Kostya nodded. "Been verking on for a year or so. Vill probably give to somevun else, and work on another. For sake of project." (To get away from the memories.)
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