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Post by Forte! on Apr 23, 2009 19:04:18 GMT -5
The first rays of morning pierced the gentle, transparent fog that blanketed the fields in the morning. Sparse patches of wildflowers dotted the rolling green, grinning and lifting to the light. The queer silence of dawn was broken suddenly, as the dawn chorus lifted and birds sang out joyous, throaty songs. at once, calmness dispersed, frenzied activity and pandemonium broke, cardinals chased one another across the high, uncut grasses that lay back towards the wood. Dmitri watched it all with the same reverence he did every morning, hobbling along good-naturedly towards to barn to bid good morning to his eqine friends. But, a heavy leadenness followed his dull footsteps this morning, an almost tangible dream-like state pervaded his being. His features were pulled into a vaguely distracted frown, his hand holding loosely onto a single sheet of jagged paper. He knew what the letter said. He'd read it over and over, his eyes tracing the lines of Russian text... but none of it felt real.
Some now dormant part of his brain re-scanned the lines of the text as he made his way into the barn, and the usual 'good morning' did not cross his lips, even at the snort of Bartok, who poked his dark head over the stall door to see his friend. And, as the terrible news tried to rear it's ugly head again, he went about the perfunctory motions of feeding the horses, still silent as death. His face was pale, and his hands had begun to shake, but still he walked on, enveloped by a dark dream and a desire to follow some man-made plan. But, beneath it all lay the cold certainty that all was not well, that some part of the very fabric of the universe was missing. That Petra had died. Cold and alone and sick. And that he hadn't been there, or at the funeral... And that his parents hadn't written. Not until last week.
Idle now, with nothing left to do, the gravity of the situation crashed down on Dmitri, almost brining him to his knees. A sick, sad feeling rose in his throat, and a sob racked his shoulders, an audible cry. Not knowing what else to do, he made his way over to Bartok's stall. The stallion, knowing that something was up, snorted gently as Dmitri collapse against his neck, moving his muzzle to nuzzle the man's shoulder. Finally the tears and the sorrow and the ugly, black anger at how unfair the world was made it's way into Dmitri's brain, and he hugged the Shire's neck and cried into his rough mane. A terrible emptiness had found it's way into his heart, and the bone-wrenching feeling of dispair tugged at everything in him, ever emotion, every thought. He buried his face further in rough, black mane, trying to hide from the ugly, evil, hated world.
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Post by Frenzi™ on Apr 24, 2009 17:23:48 GMT -5
;; 7:00 ... always too early. The alarm shreaked a chime, getting only a groan and a growl from it's owner, and yet it stilled screamed. "Stupid thing... why'd I even get one..." Illiana murmured, rolling over in the bed and smacking the snooze button on the top. Flinging her legs over the side of the bed, she stood up, and walked groggily to the bathroom, where she got ready for the day. After a warm shower, the towel-clad Ana stepped out of the bathroom and rummaged through the closet, picking out a purple-grey shirt, and light blue skinny jeans. And, back into the bathroom she went, spending about fifteen minutes or so on makeup and hair. After throwing on a pair of mitchmatched socks and a pair of ragged and worn converse, she headed outside.
;; The early-autumn sun held miniscule amounts of warmth, and her still-damp hair didn't help with that fact at all. "I am so not a morning person," Ana grumbled, making the high ponytail slightly tighter as she walked towards the barn. There were many things to do today, Impulse needed to be ridden, Breaking Dawn was antsy, and Robbie needed to be taken out on the track for a warm-up, but other than that, the day seemed bleak. First on the list, greet Impulse, who, she had heard, had pined for the whole time Ana was away. A small yip made Ana whirl around as a black and tan puppy, with a single floppy ear, barrelled into her legs, squirming with happiness. "Hey Echo!" Ana said, picking up the wiggling puppy. Echo tried to lick Ana's face with a pink tongue, but Ana held her away, "not right now, though you can come to see the horses if you want," she said, bringing the puppy close to her once again, holding her as to not scare the horses.
;; The walk to the barn that housed the non-racing horses seemed way too long, though Illiana tilted her cranium to the side curiously, wondering why the door was slightly ajar. She poked her head inside the door to see Dmitri, hugging Bartok's thick neck, with his head head burrowed in the stallion's mane. Ana's first reaction was to greet him, as it just looked like Dmitri was giving his friend a hug, but then a thought nagged at her mind. Bartok didn't seem... happy. Although her heart yearned to go and ask what was the matter, common sense told her to back up, and let whatever was happening, happen. Still, her heart did keep tugging her towards the barn... Freeing a hand, Ana knocked lightly on the barn door, calling out softly, "Anyone in here?" Hopefully it would seem just like she was wary of an open barn door... hopefully.
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Post by Forte! on May 1, 2009 17:50:17 GMT -5
A tremendous, crushing hopelessness had settled somewhere near Dmitri's lungs, and he found that it was hard to even breathe. His brain was on fire with a million thoughts burning out on the edges, like so many bubbles of carbon rising to the surface of a drink. And, like so many bubbles, after the initial surge the weight lifted a little bit. Dmitri found that he could go on breathing. That his heart had not stopped. And that Bartok was trying to fit his large muzzle into his small pocket. The shaking sobs ceased, and he remembered to breathe, shallow, quick breaths that belied some hidden panic. A sort of quiet had descended over him, and everything seemed unreal. His fingers, buried in Bartok's fur. The redness of his eyes. Even the constant, nagging pain felt far away, like it belonged to someone else. Dmitri could feel the switch in his brain going on autopilot.
He fought against it for a moment, trying to regain control of his own mine. But then a stabbing sorrow came over again, and his face contorted with the force of the emotion. So he sank blissfully into oblivion, letting the part of him that seemed empty consume him. But he was jarred back to reality by Ana's voice, which, although quiet, jogged the part of his brain that was, in fact, controlled by him, and he released Bartok, who had sensed something was up and grown very still, his muzzle still pressed into Dmitri's pocket, but no longer trying to see if there was anything in there. He was suddenly aware of the fact that his eyes were red-rimmed and wet, and he didn't turn, but stood for a moment, trying to sort things out in his brain, and a little bit tongue tied besides.
"A-ana." Darn shaky voice! He gritted his teeth against it and attempted to collect himself again. "Good morning." There was none of his usual cherriness there, and he dimly realized that he was holding his parents' letter in a fist, crumpling it up. He smoothed it hasitly and folded it back, trying to act as nonchalant at possible but failing miserably. She wouldn't be able to read it, anyway, and what was he trying to hide? He wasn't proud of his family... that was for sure... but he did love them. He couldn't quite recall why at the moment, but he knew it with a cold sort of certainty. Besides... he could trust Ana, couldn't he? He loved her, didn't he? There it was again, that sort of dreamy state tingling at the edges of his vision. A tremble passed from the top of his head to his toes, and he turned around to face Ana, his bloodshot eyes locked on hers, trying to fight against sinking into some great vat that he wouldn't be able to draw himself out of.
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Post by Frenzi™ on May 1, 2009 18:20:54 GMT -5
;; Ana stood outside in the cool autumn air, extremely worried about Dmitri. There was something definately off, and even Echo seemed to calm down for the moment. A silence reigned over the area that Ana and the barn was in, seeming to have it's own little bubble, being in it's own little world, away from everything, except worry and silence. Echo squirmed again and let out a small yip, shattering the bubble, and it rained down on Ana, forcing her to choose. Should she go in the barn and see what was wrong? Or walk away, and pretend not to remember the stillness, and give Dmitri some time? "It's been time enough," Ana whispered to the black and tan puppy, and pushed open the barn door quite loudly, so she didn't scare, or otherwise startle Dmitri. A short nicker came from the black arabian mare, Impulse, as Ana's scent wafted through the barn.
;; Ana stepped into the barn and promptly closed the door, looking, concerned, at Dmitri, though he took his face away from Bartok and seemed to turn around. His shaky voice reached her ears, and her eyes narrowed slightly, wondering what in the world could have bothered him so deeply. When he recited the normal, Good Morning, Ana shook her head, it didn't contain the normal enthusiasm. "Uh, I think not," she replied bending down and setting Echo on the floor. The puppy stayed still for a moment, then dashed towards Dmitri, but stopped, and ran back to Ana. 'What was that about animals' sixth sense?' she thought, looking down at Echo who had curled up by her feet and was watching Dmitri and Bartok, each in turn, intently.
;; A flicker of movement caught her eye, and Ana saw something, looking almost like a piece of paper slip into Dmitri's pocket, and she tilted her head, curious. "Dmitri?" Ana asked, trying to gather up enough courage to ask what was wrong, but for the moment, failed. 'What in the world is wrong?' Ana thought, running through any possible ideas. Ivan's death.... no..... he wouldn't be completely bent out of shape over that.... this looks more personal. Horse died? Nope... would've heard about that sooner..... Call from someone? No..... the paper...' she thought, trying to take a step forward, but she seemed rooted to the spot, much to her frustration. There was a slight twitch in Dmitri's frame, and then he turned around, and locked eyes with Ana. A sharp gasp came from her as she saw how red, puffy, and bloodshot they were. She stepped over Echo in a single bound, and walked closer to Dmitri, wondering if she should hug him or not, or if that would just make it worse. Ana shoved away any worries and flung her arms around him, hoping to comfort him. Nothing else seemed to matter."Dmitri," she breathed, "What happened?"
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Post by Forte! on May 1, 2009 22:56:43 GMT -5
When she spoke his name, Dmitri looked away, at Echo. He could hardly bear this. He felt pathetic and weak, like a small child who needed comfort. He tried to keep from breaking down and sobbing again, with mixed results. His quick breaths were interrupted as they caught in his throat, trembling on the edge of a sob. He felt like he might just lay down and die, at this point. This was a horrible day. And the sun had only just risen. But at her embrace he suddenly remembered why it was worth it, and he allowed her comfort and her concern and everything caring about her to wash over him, to consume him, to console him. He couldn't bring himself to explain, because at her touch he broke down and started crying again, his sobs silent but his face painfully contorted with each new tremor. He felt sick to his stomach, clinging to Ana like a drowning swimmer to a buoy.
His sobs faded again into breaths, and he released Ana and stepped back, looking small and utterly miserable. He fumbled for words for a moment, trying to bring forth some sort of explanation. But it still seemed so unreal. Like it hadn't really happened. Like this was all a dream. He pinched his opposite wrist, hard. Ok. Not a dream. But that didn't really help. It seemed to snap him back into coherence, though, and he looked down at his feet again. "I-it's... My..." he stammered, lost for words, his English slowly slipping away, "my sister... she had consumption... and... oh..." he couldn't speak any more, and was seized again by sobbing, stepping forward and burying his head in Ana's shoulder again, for once allowing himself to be comforted. Bartok had reached his head out of the stall and snorted quietly, blowing air down Dmitri's neck.
"Ana, I wasn't THERE!" he said suddenly, his voice muffled by her shoulder. "I wasn't there for the funeral. I didn't even know she was sick." He was, somehow, angry at himself for that. Even though there was no way he could have known. But he should have written to Petra more. To his family more. Ivan wouldn't let him make calls to Russia, but how hard was it to mail a letter? He was angry at the rest of his family, too. They knew that Petra loved him, and that he loved her. And that she and Ivan had practically saved his life, and she hadn't taken advantage of that fact. Had they wanted to write sooner? He didn't think so. "I didn't know... and I can't go back. I can't put flowers on her grave. Or sit with my brothers and my sisters and tell them that life would go on. That we could live without her, somehow, and that we would have food to eat and clothes to wear. But I can't go home, and I didn't know!" He realized that he was rambling, and shut his mouth, still crying, still shaking.
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Post by Frenzi™ on May 2, 2009 13:02:23 GMT -5
;; Why was the world determined to flip itself inside out? It just didn't seem right, and Ana most likely felt as odd as Dmitri did in this position. The same thought kept running through her head, 'What could have done this to him?' She felt as if the piece of paper that Dmitri had pushed into his pocket so carefully held the key. Yet if it had been the culprit, why didn't he just crumple it up... instead, he smoothed out the crumpling that he seemed to have done, almost as if in a panic. A strange silence held over the barn, and then Dmitri broke into sobs as Ana hugged him, and the world seemed to take part in the tears, and shattered. A low growl from Echo, and a distressed snort from Impulse, something definately was not right, and it didn't take a rocket scientist to figure that out.
;; As Dmitri stepped back, Ana let go, looking up into his tear-streaked face, feeling her own practically drain of color. His head turned to his feet, and she felt helpless, just standing there, waiting for him to find the words in his startled mind. When he did start to talk, Ana found it incresingly hard to understand him, though she assumed from them that his sister had some sort of.... something, a sickness most likely. She didn't recognize the name of it, but even so, it served as the bad news breaker. Then Dmitri stepped forward and buried his head in Ana's shoulder. Never before had he done this, he was usually the strong one, and it showed the world had broken all barriers, and ripped all the seams, nothing out of the reality check. "Dmitri," she whispered.
;; As he spoke his first understandable sentence, it was filled with so much emotion that Ana almost stepped back, but she didn't, just stayed where she was. The most she could do was listen to him, and it became clear that the sister that had died was the one he had really loved, the only one out of his family, and she sympathized with him, though she couldn't let him know that. What guy wants sympathy? When he finished, she stepped back slowly, looking straight into his face. "Dmitri, I understand, I think I do. Did you think that she didn't want you to be there for her funeral?" She winced as the words came out wrong, and then she shook her head, and explained. "Sorry... I didn't mean it that way. What I meant is that maybe the memories of her that she wanted you to have were of happy ones, and the ones that you could cherish for the rest of your life, not... you know." Ana tried to explain, almost desperate to get her point across. "She probably didn't want you to have the last picture of her in your mind as a sad one, now all you have is happy ones, right?" Ana explained.
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Post by Forte! on May 3, 2009 9:11:13 GMT -5
The sobs had subsided again into deep breaths, but the pain was evident still in the rides of his eyes, the frowns that tugged at his mouth. Dmitri wrestled against the autopilot switch in his head again, trying to keep his rational brain in control, but it was an uphill battle. In the mud. And every time he slipped he could feel the cold calm of nothingness sweeping across him. He didn't want that. He didn't want to hide behind the walls that he had erected so long ago. He didn't have to bottle up all of these feelings any more, and even though it was a hard habit to break he was trying with everything he had, because he remembered how frustrating it was to feel so much and never admit it. He let Ana break the embrace, and stood still, letting her do her utmost to comfort him, to try and make some rational explanation of why they hadn't written.
He really wished that it worked, but it didn't. "...I... I don't know. I don't think she could have written, even if she wanted to...." he paused, trying to figure out exactly what it was he was trying to explain, "...you don't realize how lucky you are, living here. In Russia, the health care isn't so good, and they can't treat a lot of things that you can..." He was living proof of that, wasn't he? "...Petra would have been in quarantine, I think... and..." he couldn't bring himself to continue. That image was far too terrible. He attempted to wrestle it back into that part of his brain that wasn't currently working, but it didn't work. He couldn't bear to think of Petra, all alone, with no one to visit her, to tell her, against all rationality, that she was going to be okay.
He sighed, a hopeless sort of noise. "...you are probably right though." he admitted, biting back the tears that were still biting at the edges of his throat. All the helpless anger against his family, against the world, had been dulled to a kind of acceptance of the fact that he was still breathing, and thus would have to carry on in spite of it all. Dmitri had never understood suicide, not even in the darkest days or the coldest nights, and he still didn't. The thought would never, in a million years, occur to him. "...Thank you." he said, quietly, meeting Ana's gaze. All the sadness, all the pain, all the anger was still there, just quavering at the edge of his voice, but a kind of sorrow dulled it. "Oh. I had something to tell you. Ivan's trial is next week." It seemed like a pointless thing to say, but he didn't know if she knew that yet. He would have to face his tormentor one last time before he was finally free.
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Post by Frenzi™ on May 3, 2009 12:05:55 GMT -5
;; Ana almost couldn't bear to see Dmitri like this, and it tugged at her heartstrings, threatening to snap them. She didn't know if he was trying to let the emotions flow out, or bottle them up inside, so she didn't want to say anything that would make it worse. A frown tugged at the corners of her lips as he seemed to battle with himself, but she stayed where she was, unmoving. As he started to speak, Ana listened carefully, knowing that it would indeed be difficult to put his mind at rest, especially so since she didn't know squat about Russia. She sighed heavily, trying to ponder on how to fix the situation. It just wasn't right, and Ana was trying to keep her wits together enough to think properly, which was proving harder and harder.
;; She shook her head quietly as he trailed off at his first speech, "Dmitri, quarantine or not, if she needed to write, or wanted to, wouldn't someone have been able to? Doctors need to write, all the charts and stuff." she said, trying to smile, but wondering how well she succedded. The pain was obvious in her face, and she felt helpless again, not understanding a way of putting back the fallen pieces of his life. Could they even be picked up? Or had they been scattered too far away, and so far away that no one knew where they were? When he did finally trail off, he seemed to be seeing something that wasn't actually there, and she poked him in the shoulder, "Please, please get that image out of your head, it'll only make you feel worse."
;; To the first glance, Dmitri looked as if he had calmed down slightly, but Ana wasn't quite fooled. "Just think of all the happy times... and I can go get a chocolate bar from the house if you want. I have pretty much a stack of them, for times like these, or home-sickness." she offered, smiling. When he thanked her, she just shook her head, pretty much saying that it wasn't necessary, but she really didn't want to say that out loud. The next bit of news surprised her, and she inclined her cranium slightly, curious. "Huh... I suppose you need to be there?" she asked sullenly, knowing that she would tag along as well, even if the security guards had to bar her way, she would be there. She pulled her cell phone out of her pocket and looked at the time, wow... it had taken a lot less time then she would have assumed. "You are coming to the trail ride tonight, right?" she asked hopefully, knowing that would take his mind off all the gloom and doom stuff.
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Post by Forte! on May 3, 2009 15:26:25 GMT -5
"...I think that's the point, Ana," Dmtri said slowly after she spoke, "they write on thousands of charts. Every day. They go from one chart to the next. And Petra would never bother anyone who was willing to do that. Not a lot of people are." He paused, not sure of what to say. He felt as if he'd just picked up all of the pieces, only to have it fall again right when he'd figured out the puzzle. How many times could he break before he wouldn't ever be able to put all the pieces together? At the moment he felt that there was one missing already. Like there was only emptiness where before had been something else. And it was a terrible feeling. He sighed. "I'm trying, Ana, I really am," he said after her last comment, shoving the picture from his mind.
He couldn't help a chuckle at her chocolate bar comment, but it was an empty chuckle, morbid. "I will. And no, thanks. You're asking me to eat American chocolate? I think not." He eyed her quietly as she shook her head at his thanks, nad let her push it aside. He knew that it wasn't necessary... but he felt obliged nonetheless. He nodded at her question. "Yes, of course. You don't have to come. It shouldn't take very long, and it's obvious that he did it, anyway." He said quietly, suddenly seized by another convusion of sadness. He bit back a sob, which quavered in his throat with a hopeless sort of noise, and fell back onto one of the benches that lined the barn, looking down at his feet miserably. He felt like he was going to burst into tears at any moment, and he hated the helplessness he felt because of it.
He was caught off guard by the next question. "I... wasn't planning to. But I'll come if you want." He said. He honestly hadn't thought about it, even though he knew Ana had wanted to go. He wasn't a terribly good rider, though, and Vodka was a little bit past the prime of his life. He honestly wasn't sure if they could keep up, especially if the others wanted to have a good gallop. Dmitri couldn't manage that. "Say. I got my photo album back from Bar None the other day. Do you want to see it?" There weren't very many pictures of him as a kid, but there were a few... and, well... he wanted to see Petra again, to be honest. And he felt homesick for the first time in more than a year. He didn't know if he'd start crying again, or what... But...
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Post by Frenzi™ on May 3, 2009 18:02:35 GMT -5
;; Ana let out a sigh as she was pushed down once again, and pushed a stray lock of hair out of her face. She wanted to comfort him, and she wanted to make him feel better, but he just seemed so drowned in the pool of sorrow that he just kept dismissing any ideas Ana had to help him get over it. She didn't blame him at all for that, hey, it all happens to someone sometime. "Mitri," she said, looking up slightly into his face. No more ideas were coming into her head, although she would drag him to the Midnight Trail Ride anyway. He needed to meet Skye and Axel, and maybe Roxie would be there. That would cheer him up... hopefully. Or would it just give him more time to wallow in sadness? At this point... every pro had a con, and every good idea had a down-side. 'I hate when this happens,' Ana thought, referring to the everything have a downside. "I know."
;; She tilted her head, confused at his sentence about American chocolate. "What's wrong with American chocolate?" she asked, almost pouting. "I have dark and milk chocolate... though milk is too sweet... and has a bad after-taste. And, we could go to the market if you want and see if they have those chocolates from around the world! Maybe they have Russian ones?" she offered, besides, it would be a great time to test out her new truck. Or, maybe they could go there right before the Trail Right, to stock up on stuff, so they wouldn't be eating beans out of a can. Yuck. Ana shook her head again, though this time, she was smiling. "Nope, I'm coming. I promise I won't say something stupid... or.... chuck a shoe at his head or anything," she said, clasping her hands behind her back and scuffling her shoe in the dirt. When he half-way collapsed into a bench, she turned around and sat beside him. "It's okay to cry, you know, I won't think any less of you."
;; "You'd really come?" she asked, quite excited. "That'd be wonderful! You could meet everybody! Wouldn't Vodka love to go out too?" she rambled, and as soon as she noticed that, she shut her mouth. Maybe her just being happy will make him happy? No... it doesn't really tend to work that way. "Oooh, photo album! Fun, I'd love to see it! Toddler Dmitri would be so cute! I can go get it, if you want, or I can sit here." she offered, grinning. Impulse let out a soft nicker, and flicked her banner, while Echo got up and trotted over to the bench. She curled up by Dmitri's feet, tail tip resting over her nose. 'I hope he'll come to the Trail Ride Campout... it sounds so fun. But of course there's the tent thing... I'm going to have to wrestle that out of the closet full of junk.' Ana mused, leaning back a little in the bench and putting her feet up on it.
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Post by Forte! on May 4, 2009 20:04:29 GMT -5
Dmitri looked up at Ana as she spoke. For the moment, she was the glue that was keeping him from falling apart, helping him rebuild his image of the world after it had been shaken to the core. And he was so glad to have her. Without her, he didn't know where he'd be right now. Well, actually, he did. He'd be sitting in Bar None, all alone, doing his utmost to stop breathing. And he was really glad that this wasn't the case. He couldn't help grinning a little when she called him "'Mitri", something he felt that he would probably never get used to. But he liked it. He chuckled a little, bewildered at her expression when he mentioned the whole chocolate thing. "It tastes like plastic," he said, making a face, "you've really never had European chocolate? Ever?" He queried, voice quavering. He looked bewildered again at her whole 'market' suggestion, that really hadn't been his intention in the least.
"I mean. If you insist, but it's not necessary," he said, quietly, "besides, Russian chocolate's no good, either. You have to go for Dutch. Or English. Delicious." He said, glad that she was taking his mind off of things happening back home. He shrugged again at her next comment, holding up his hands. "Fine. Fine. You can come!" he conceeded. Not like there was anything he could do about that. She would come even if he chained her to a metal pole in the middle of a frozen lake. He adored how stubbornly persistent she was. He frowned again at her next comment, moving closer to her slightly, glad for her presence. "...I believe you. But my mind doesn't," he said quietly, pressing his chin into his hand. "and, besides... Like you said, I have to go on in spite of it. I'll learn to cope sooner or later, and sooner would be better for me." He sighed, leaning back and looking down at Echo, who had made herself at home at his feet. He smiled. He liked dogs.
"Yes, I'll come," he said, looking over as she grew excited. He couldn't help but grin. "Vodka'll probably enjoy it, yes. Poor old man doesn't get out much." The stallion in question was currently napping in his stall, dimly aware of voices floating through the air but otherwise blissfully asleep. He chuckled at her next statement. "I'll go get it. You'd never be able to find it, in any case." ...And, to be honest, he needed a moment to take a deep breath and try to figure this out. He stood up and hobbled off deliberately, looking back over his shoulder as he went, "be back in a minute." He said, and set off on his quest. As promised, he returned more quickly than one might have thought possible, with the leather-bound volume tucked under his arm.
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Post by Frenzi™ on May 5, 2009 19:16:15 GMT -5
;; As Ana continued to think about chocolate, she was doing two things, one with knowing it, and the other not. The first one, which she had attempted to do in the first place, was offer something that would make him feel better. In this case, chocolate was one of the best things for home-sickness, and it was a usual rememedy for a bunch of other issues as well. The second, which was occuring even though Ana did not know, was keeping his mind off what had bothered him before. However, that seemed to last only until Ana had stopped talking, and the pain looked like it returned. "Our chocolate tastes like plastic? No no Mitri, you've so got that wrong. Our chocolate is amazing. Have you tried that Toblerone stuff? Euch! It's horrible" Ana said, tilting her head back in fake dismay. She sat back up normally, and tapped her chin, pondering. "Nope, never had European chocolate. Ever."
;; When he accepted, or made a point of replying to her suggestion of going to get some at the store, she grinned. "We can take the truck and trailer, if you want. Or we could just ride the horses and take them to the Trail Ride Campout from there. Which sounds better?" she quiered, thinking of the better solution herself. The horses would be tired after the campout, and most likely not happy about going all the way back to the ranch on hoof after. There would also most likely be a parking spot for the truck and trailer, so that seemed like the better option. After Dmitri agreed, well, accepted her coming to the trial, she beamed at him, smiling happily. "Good, can't wait." However, that was only a half-truth. She definately could wait, for if he wasn't going, there was no way in heck anyone could have dragged her into that courtroom, but Ana thought that Dmitri needed her for some reason, so why not offer to go along, and make it easier on them both?
;; Ana nodded enthusiastically as he agreed to coming to the Campout, it would most likely be a great thing to get his mind off the other portions on his plate. "Perfect!" she exclaimed, though quietly, as a slight snortle of a snoring horse wafted through the barn. Ana nodded as Dmitri hobbled off to get the album, although she knew perfectly well that she couldn't have known where it would be. Besides, she wouldn't go snooping through his stuff! Maybe Russian photo albums looked different too.... she jumped a little when he came back in, for she hadn't realized how deeply she had retreated into her thoughts. Grinning sheepishly she rubbed the back of her neck, pretty much in embaressment, even though there wasn't really anything to be embarassed of. "Wow, that was really quick," she said, scooting over to give him more room to sit down.
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Post by Forte! on May 17, 2009 6:45:51 GMT -5
Dmitri had managed to compose himself to the point where he didn't feel likely to burst into tears and/or flames at any moment, and the card tower he had lovingly constructed from the ruins of his life was holding up surprisingly well. He could feel, in a sad sort of way, exactly how fragile and delicate that life was, how thin the border between life and death, and how soon and suddenly one could become the other. He trembled at the thought, trying to keep himself focused on Ana so that he wouldn't think so much. He remembered, albeit vaguely, that feeling of slipping away, of sinking into himself, and he was more scared of that then he had ever been in his entire life. He had seen people with empty eyes and hollow voices, people who had lost so much that they had lost themselves. Above all, he did not want to become that. "Mmm. Toblerone is Swiss. I never said anything about Swiss chocolate," he murmured, struggling to keep himself focused, "And since American chocolate is all you've ever had, you don't know how bad it is."
He chuckled a little at her expression, turning to face her again with a sort of forced grin on his face. Realizing that he would never dissuade her from the whole store idea (or anything, for that matter. he wasn't prone to argument, and she was rather obstinate), he silently resolved himself to the whole thing. "Truck, I should think. Vodka's going to be tired enough as it is. He's an old man, remember?" In fact, Vodka had a lot of energy for his age, but Dmitri didn't want to put him through too much. This was supposed to be a relaxing ride, after all. He chuckled again, this time a little morbidly, at her response to the whole trial thing. "Well, I can." he murmured, "but I'm ready to be done with Ivan." He remembered, through all of his own problems, what had passed between Ana and Ivan. "How are you, by the way?" he asked, his voice quiet, his eyes showing the concern he honestly felt.
He couldn't help but grin when she jumped, startled. What had she been musing about so intensely that she hadn't noticed his jagged footsteps? "Sorry," he said, still grinning as he scooted around Echo to sit back down. He nodded slightly at her next statement, "I get around..." He could move surprisingly fast when he wanted to (which was practically never.) "I must warn you. I'm probably frowning in every single one of this pictures. It's cold in Russia." It was no secret that the cold put him in a bad mood, she'd already seen that. "Oh. And all of the stuff written on the backs of the photos is in Russian. Of course. If you want me to read it, I will." With that, he handed her the book, which was light despite it's size. There weren't a whole lot of pictures of him as a kid (as a matter of fact, there weren't ANY pictures of him as a baby. since no one had thought that he'd live through the winter).
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Post by Frenzi™ on May 22, 2009 17:34:30 GMT -5
;; Ana was watching Dmitri, trying to understand what he was feeling at the moment. She'd lost her mother, technically, when she was younger, and a father figure had never existed in her life, not even now, when she knew who her father was. She had never really felt a loss in her life, and seeing what it did to such a stable creature as Dmitri... she considered herself beyond lucky to not have the experience in her memory bank. She had extreme sympathy for Dmitri at this point in time, noticing how horribly the event shakened him, but she couldn't tell if he wanted the full-out sympathetic treatment or not. He didn't seem to mind her attempts at comforting him, but for the moment she didn't show too much sympathy, although it was clear she was worried for him, and felt bad for him as well. "Oh... well then I guess Swiss chocolate doesn't taste good.." she said, smiling. Chocolate was a good topic to talk about, although it didn't look like it was taking his mind completely over the death of his only loved sister. "I have too had other chocolate." she made a box shape with her hands, illustrating her words, "The packages of the world-wide chocolates that come to the store sometimes. Yummy. Aaand, truffles. Those are AMAZING!"
;; She rose an eyebrow at the grin that cracked onto his face. It seemed brittle, like it wasn't supposed to be there. Like a picture hoax, with a person running from an elephant, but the lighting completely wrong on the human, and it having no shadow. As Dmitri dropped the subject over going to the store, Ana smiled, knowing she had won. "I win," she said quietly, loving the fact that Dmitri didn't like the argue. Besides, she was a strong debater, that's for sure. "Truck sounds good, yah... poor Vodka. It sucks to get old, it really does. Although your skin looks entertaining." Ana mused, laughing internally at herself. "Don't ask me why I said that... it's just old people's skin looks stretchy." she pointed out, wondering why again she was babbling about random things. Most likely to try and get his mind off... well, the problem at hand. She nodded understandingly, and then froze when the question was asked, for she knew directly what he was meaning. A hidden anger welled up inside her, but she pushed it back down, just smiling slightly, one that wasn't close to reaching her eyes. "Yah, I'm fine... it doesn't really matter though." she said, dismissing her problems back to the depths of her heart.
;; Ana looked down at the sleeping Echo, legs twitching in her sleep. Dmitri sat down beside her, and she nodded to his comment about getting around. He sure did, even with his leg. "Well that's no surprise, I'd be unhappy too if it was cold. Unless there was snow, but I'm going to get off track if I talk anymore, so I'm going to shush now." she said, smiling lightly. As she was handed the book, she put it lightly in her lap, turning to look at him, "well... that depends, do you want to read everything? Or do you just want to pick out the important ones?" she asked carefully. She wondered if there was going to be any pictures of baby Dmitri she could fawn and coo over. At the moment she couldn't imagine his usually serious face lit up, and couldn't imagine him any shorter than he was now. The image she picked out of mind was this happy, chubby little baby playing with a toy plane in his left hand, with a shaggy mess of hair atop it's head. "Are there any baby pictures of you?" she asked, opening the book up carefully.
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Post by Forte! on May 22, 2009 19:38:50 GMT -5
Dmitri met Ana's gaze in silence, trying to keep his mind off of his family. What were they doing right now? He wondered if they were as sad as he was at this point. Probably not. And he forgave them for that. His parents had always worked hard to keep everybody fed. Everybody had always worked hard. That was the only reason he'd ended up coming with Ivan in the first place, wasn't it? And that he really loved the horses. They were quiet, and they bore their pain in silence and lived in servitude until they were brought to their knees by life. For a long time he had been like that. Part of the reason he missed Russia was the certainty, the knowing where he was headed and how he was going to get there. "Not always. The Toblerone you buy here is made in Pennsylvania, anyway.... I think..." He said, but his mind wasn't wholly on the conversation anymore. "Truffles, huh? ...We used to make them at Christmastime."
"You always win," Dmitri said fondly, looking back over at her and attempting to snap himself out of his reverie. He scooted a little bit closer to her, resting his arm around her shoulders. There. That was better. He was grounded now, rooted. He could do this. He could concentrate on this conversation without getting distracted. He hoped. He looked at her incredulously at her next comments. "....What?" he said, finally, agawk. To be honest, he wasn't really sure what she was trying to say. Sometimes this happened to him, but he was pretty sure that she was just going on about nothing, trying to distract him from his misery as much as he was. He looked at her, concerned as she brushed off his question. "Ana." he murmured, staring her straight in the eyes, "it matters to me. You know that." It wasn't a question. She did know that.
He nodded at her next comment, still slightly concerned, but deciding to let it go with a little grin at her comment about getting distracted. He loved that about her. He loved a lot of things about her. He shrugged at her question, "I'll pick out the important ones, I suppose. And the ones that aren't embarassing." A lopsided grin took over his face for a moment, but then faded at her next question. "I'm afraid not. Nobody thought I was going to live very long." He admitted, quietly, as he shifted the mass of papers that had been stuffed in the front of the album (mostly letters) to reveal the picture pages. He had spoken the truth. The first picture there was when he was about two, sitting on the front steps with a red nose and a little frown, and wearing a hat that was way too big. He couldn't help but grin at the memory.
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