--✖-- Mission Tanha --✖-- Semi-lit+ --✖-- PRIVATE --✖--

[- serendipity]

ＴＡＬＬＵＬＡＨ ＫＹＬＩＥ ＧＲＥＹ
{ tally } - { eighteen } - { single / no crush } - { BlackStar } - { extraction, distraction & disguise }

When the meeting had come to a close Tally had gone upstairs and collapsed onto the bed. It seemed though that the only rest she could get was lying there with her eyes closed, no sleep present. Eventually she had given up all together and started to get ready. When she was finished, her hair was a much lighter shade of brown, her eyes were blue and her nose was more of a ski jump. Then she had changed into her outfit and done her make-up, clearing away the darkness beneath her eyes first. Downstairs again she had been trying to secure her knife when Lidia had made an appearance and she and Gabrielle had almost ganged up on her, dragging her back upstairs and doing her make-up. Then Tallulah had actually strapped the knife to her thigh, making sure it couldn't be seen in the mirror before finally settling down. Going through the motions of what she had done in her head kept boredom at stray as the assassins travelled towards Piotr's mansion. When they arrived a smile grew on Tally's face at the size of it.

Finding that document was going to be a challenge. Stepping out of the van when Gabrielle beckoned her, she shut the door behind her and caught a look of herself in the van's reflection. She didn't look like a teenager anymore, more like a twenty-something socialite. Then she turned away and walked across to Lidia, warm in the fur coat. She wasn't exactly pleased with the coat but it had been in the outfit so she had worn it. Reaching Lidia, she linked arms with the brunette and smiled. "готовы? (Ready?)" She queried lightly, passing a smile at a passing couple who had been looking at them. They had to fit in. Shifting slightly, as she waited for Gabrielle's affirmation, the brunette's eyes scanned their surroundings. Beside them the mansion was bathed up in golden light, the chandeliers glimpsed through the windows throwing their light onto the ground outside. The back entrance was in view, decorated with ivy and two men dressed in butler wear, bowing and checking everyone as they passed. "живей (come on)." She said, impatience getting the better of her. [ outfit ]

{ tagged: gabrielle }

sorry that this isn't the best and that i've only just got it up; school's loaded me with a ton of work and i've only really just been able to get on. they'll get better and quicker as soon as i get into a proper routine }}

[Artesian]

John Markov

--x--

On/Off the Job

Nineteen: Male
Blackstar: Medical
Strolling on in.
Tagged: Alex, anyone else in the room.

Markov's mood could be described as ebullient. He was having fun. There wasn't much that he could do to assist the others at the moment, besides stay out of the way and blend into the party. This meant having fun - what a deal! He hummed a bit under his breath as he strolled through the party, greeting any Russian teens who glanced his way with a cheerful "Добрый вечер (good evening)".

He caught sight of Bentley and Lydia, but, except for a momentary pause in his strolling about, he didn't greet them. Stay out of Bentley's way meant stay out of his way, and that was just fine from Markov's perspective. He leaned against a pillar and tapped his fingers together meditatively. "Привет, (Hello)" a voice said, a female voice. He looked towards his elbow where a homely but still pleasant looking girl stood, smiling at him.

Markov wasn't exactly used to being smiled at, but he smiled back anyway and greeted her with a good evening and a question, " Вы весело? (Are you having fun?)"

She nodded and asked him his name.

"Ма́рков (Markov)," he replied, unguardedly. Convenient, he supposed that one of the parents he never meant was ethnically Russian, and had given him a Russian name. "Как тебя зовут? (What's your name?)" She responded with a long, formal name which he caught barely half of, but then she added a nickname, Аня (Anya).

Feeling bolder than he probably had any right to be, he held out his hand to the girl and asked, "Аня, xотите потанцевать? (Would you like to dance?)" The girl giggled and tucked her hand under his elbow to be escorted onto the dance floor.

Right. I can dance, right? He thought. He felt sure he'd been taught that, sometime. Waltzes, foxtrots, maybe some basic folk dances... He was a quick study, anyway. Thinking quickly, he identified the three-beat measure of a slow waltz. Easy! He began leading the girl through a slow box step and allowed himself a small dose of relaxation.

After a few measures of music, he remembered his duty to the mission. Perhaps this lass would know more about Piotr or the grounds of the building? "Я не видел наш хозяин все же сегодня вечером. Ты знаешь, где он? (I haven't seen our host yet tonight. Do you know where he is?)" It seem unobtrusive enough, and pretty polite too.

She shook her head, and he felt her arms tense in his. "Мой дядя все еще находится в своем кабинете. В настоящее время он весьма нелюдимым. (My uncle is still in his office. He is currently very unsociable.)" She let out a huff of annoyance as the song ended.

"Спасибо за танец (Thank you for the dance.)" Markov said, and she dipped her head in acknowledgement. He backed off the dance floor and leaned against a wall again, scouting for his fellow agents. How could he talk to Lidia or Bentley casually, and let them know what he'd found?

He couldn't exactly stroll up to Bentley and start chatting unobtrusively. Hello, Mr. Cranky, I'm going to chatter at you about pointless things until no one else is watching? He could try. Or, he could ask Lidia to dance, and risk being floored by a elbow jab to the ribs, or possibly a knee to some other target. Hmm.

((Tell me if this isn't okay, as it hurries the mission a bit. I'll take it out, if it doesn't fit in with anyone's plans. :3))

[eden .]

>> oh woops.
>> does he end up getting killed or does tanha save him or what
>> idk what happens so just roll with what I'm posting

αleх • ĸeυм
___________________________________________________________________________________________________________

eιɢнтeeɴ | ғeмαle | тαɴнα | cold reαdιɴɢ, eхтrαcтιoɴ, ιɴтerroɢαтιoɴ, recoɴɴαιѕѕαɴce

"You mean the pair of blondes that look like they're six?" Alexandra clarified into a painting she was perusing. Of course, what she meant by saying they were six was that they looked young, which was a completely nonsensical thing to say, considering she was one of the youngest at the party, as well. "Yeah, I'll keep an eye on them. Don't expect me to get too close, though." Alex shifted through the outskirts of the room, pausing at appropriate moments to chat with a guest or take a crumpet or something. Alex was in her element. Her entire specialty was blending in and being unnoticeable--even with some of her, er, more conspicuous traits--so keeping an eye on the pair that had just come in wasn't particularly difficult for her. She took care to keep her ears open for other clues, as well.

When she was some distance away from the pair, Alex caught a brief Russian conversation blotted out and muffled by the quiet din around her. At first, she didn't really pay attention. It wasn't after the conversation had ended that she nearly froze on the spot, almost forgetting herself, before taking another casual step and pausing near the drinks. She glanced through her hair to see the abnormally short guy that she had noted dismissively earlier in the night over and across the way. Hopefully he didn't see her. Well, hopefully was right. He would have to have an extra pair of eyes on his neck or something. Alex let her hair slip past her shoulders and murmured into her earpiece, "I might have found out that the host isn't coming downstairs. I-D-K" -- and Alex said this spelling it out with the letters rather than saying the full "I don't know" -- "yet. I got some conversation about 'host', 'uncle', and 'unsociable'. Not sure where he is, though. Probably in one of his batcaves."

Alex began to move again, taking a place inconspicuously a few feet away from the pair that was chatting and blonde. Jesus, was that guy really blonde? Maybe he was from California and tanned himself because it made him think he looked hot. Yeah, no.

Girl, you could do so much better, Alex inwardly smirked to herself, mentally addressing the blonde in the black dress next to him. Well, they didn't seem to have a girlfriend-boyfriend dynamic, anyway. But they certainly seemed to know each other.

With another glance up, Alex noticed that the small guy's gaze had flickered towards the pair -- momentarily, though, nothing too obvious -- but it was something to note. Was it because they were ostentatious or something? Alex certainly didn't think they were, although her levels of brazenness were not dependable. Alex frowned a little internally. Well, she didn't feel good about it, so she figured she'd better report it to Tom.

"There's this midget here that I don't like," Alex told the other two, saying "I don't like" in a way that clearly said that he really wasn't someone any of the three of them should like. "And he's the guy that was asking where Piotr is. And I caught him looking at the pair you tagged, Tom. Looks like the party's started."

[city;]

--------------- . .ｇａｂｒｉｅｌｌｅ ｆｏｒｄ-✖_________________________________________


Gabrielle didn’t exactly know what she was planning on doing. How was she supposed to invade a party by one of the wealthiest and most protected men of the entire Russian empire? Piotr himself couldn’t get past his own security without a million different check-ins, badges, thumb and eye-scans, or code-entering. There wasn’t a way that Gabrielle and Tallulah could get past this man’s security. And just to think they were supposed to remove something from him. This wasn’t exactly the easiest mission BlackStar had ever given them. She really just wanted something quick, for once, but knew that wasn't ever going to happen, so the girl simply ... let it go.

She saw Tallulah approaching, and quickly grinned (not something that she would do often with somebody she didn't know), and placed a "perfectly" manicured hand on her hip, jutting it out as she did so. "Эй, подруга! [hey girlfriend!]" Gabrielle called, waving her other arm at the assassin in a fairly expensive nearly bronze roseate gown. It was beautiful, and suited Tallulah well, and with the proper presentation, she could pass as a rich party-goer, who was there to leech money from the ever-rich Piotr, just like the rest of the people there [with an exception of Piotr himself and the assassins that were bound to be there. "Если вы имеете в виду готовые партии, то, конечно, глупо! (If you mean ready to party, then of course, silly!)" Gabrielle giggled, placing a hand over her mouth, to hide the artificical, yet impossibly genuine seeming beaming expression on her face. It was what normal girls did, right?

She permitted Tallulah to link their arms together, as many of the party had done so as they had walked in (gender mixed or not) while they strode confidently, but not overly so, into the great hall, where there was nice music, champagne, laughter, and many, many varied accents, yet all speaking some of the same languages. It made her feel like she could hide well -- even with her assassin-like look -- but Gabry knew better. She didn't trust anybody here, because any one of them could be working directly under Piotr or a pawn of Tanha. She had to be careful.

Quickly, she tilted her head and angled her face towards Tally's, pointing in the direction of a rather "cute" boy that neither of them were acquainted with. She poked her free hand's finger towards him, making sure to blink furiously when he looked their way. Was that what flirting was like? She had no idea, but judging by the other girls in the room besides her, Tally, and Lidia, this was what you did. Hence the giggling when he brushed past them, and the silent gestures for Tally to look at the stranger. "Now, giggle like I said something cute about him," she hissed under her breath, manipulating her lips to look like she was still talking. "Что я тебе говорил? Горячие парни! (what did I tell you? Hot guys!)" Gabry called, slightly louder than her previous statement in English.

[Smamm]

((Hey everyone! I just wanted to appologize for my lack of posting the past week or so. Sadly my muse is on low, but I'll try to get something up by tonight. ^^))

((EDIT: OMG I'm so sorry. After practice I fell asleep and didn't get the chance to get a reply up. I'll have it up shortly, likely tomorrow as we have a two hour delay and after my college course I have lots of free time. ^^ sorry again, guys.))

[Noel]

(short bad post here, minimal time. eue )

Skye Briht •
Tanha | Seventeen | Stealth/Evasion/Removal

Skye edged into the crowd, speaking between bites some vegetable foodstuff that he had swiped off a nearby table. "The midget?" He inquired, trying to locate the small person that Alex had mentioned. The first pair that Thomas had mentioned were easy enough to locate, what with Thomas' descriptions, but he wasn't interested in them. With any luck, he would be able to avoid them, since he was not keen to have his neck snapped by the male. The other one though he could end up against; if Blackstar was like Tanha, the small ones were the thieves, and would be after the document as well.

"Midget could be here for the document, I'll head after it now." With that, Skye cast a quick glance around the room for any easy way out. When a person bearing a tray of new food entered and an immediate hoard of people bore down on them, he went among them. Rather then crowd the unfortunate server like others were though, Skye slipped around the nearby corner out of the crowded main room. There were still people walking around there, mostly kissing couples who thought they were invisible just by stepping out of the room. Casting only a few grossed-out looks along the way, Skye pushed his way down the hallway towards a stair case. "Gonna check the upper floors. Tell me if any of them head up as well, 'kay?" Naturally, he didn't want that huge fake-blond on the same floor as him without any knowledge.

[Smamm]

((Sorry that this took so long. ;n; My deepest apologies everyone.))

i'm a nightmare, a disaster
t h a t s w h a t t h e y a l w a y s s a i d: i m a l o s t c a u s e, n o t a h e r o
but i'll make it on my own

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вeɴтley lαyтoɴ | мαle | 18 |ѕιɴɢle [ɴo crυѕн] | нαɴd-тo-нαɴd coмвαт
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The boy had been slightly withdrawn once Lidia spoke to him again, his mind and soul focused on mapping out the area around them (and beyond with the help of Markov, Tal, and Gabry whom were all prowling around here somewhere). Bent was deep into reading people, watching for any red flags; looking for those too focused on those around them, those whom looked uncomfortable. He could pick out a few here or there, but he ruled them out as just circumstantial with further analysis. His trance was broken as something along the lines of a bet was mentioned. Azure eyes colored chocolate glanced over at the girl with a smirk and a raised eyebrow, daring her to try him. It wasn't in Bentley's nature to back down from any sort of challenge, let alone one from Lidia. As one of the waiters he'd been eying passed by, the boy graciously snatched two glassed of bitter gold liquid, handing the second glass to the blonde beside him. Taking a sip, the boy responded, "Что именно вы имеете в виду (What exactly did you have in mind)?"

Before she had the chance to reply, the two were interrupted. It took every ounce of his self control not to whirl on anyone whom touched him, this case being no exception. His body tensed, and the glass of campaign shattered in his hands, muffled by the enormous chatter surrounding them. Composing himself, the blonde released his grip on the shattered particles and flicked his wrist a couple times over to get the bubbly liquid and glass from his hand. Simultaneously he turned to glance at the boy as he apologized and scurried away. Glaring as he watched him go, the boy could feel warm liquid dripping from his palm and lacing through his fingers; surely dripping to the floor as it reached his fingertips. The boy flagged down a waiter and informed him of the mess, after turning to Lidia and noting, "Если мальчик прикоснулся к тебе, я предлагаю найти сменную одежду (If the boy touched you, I suggest finding a change of clothes)." Bent paused at the waiter arrived, backing off to give the man room to clean up his mess, taking Lidia along with him. "Пожалуйста, простите меня, я вернусь (Please excuse me, I'll be back)," the assassin murmured, needing to clean up his hand and find a new set of clothes. The trouble now would just be finding someone of his own size.

As Bentley departed for a restroom, weaving in and out of the enormous crowd of guests gathered along the main floor. He changed his language to english while transmitting a message to the rest of the team (since he had been chosen to work coms and such), pressing his index and middle over his right ear. "I just got tagged, and with that said, he was a teenager. Tanha's group of bodyguards here tonight are the same age as us, so keep your eyes open; and watch out for the tagger. He's about five-foot six, brown hair, and rather scrawny in my opinion. Don't let him touch you," the assassin informed the other four, finished as he finally discovered a washroom. The warm sink water stung as it washed the red liquid from his hands, cleaning out the slices in his palms. The cuts were fairly deep, but Bentley didn't give it much of a thought; instead he shut off the sink water and pressed a crumpled paper towel into his hand to stop the bleeding. With the pressure applied and something to absorb his leaking flesh, the blood would stop eventually.

By the time he had returned to Lidia's side, the assassin had successfully stolen a single breasted jacket off some boy who left his jacket resting on a chair as he danced, replacing the stolen jacket with his own. It hadn't taken long to find a suitable fit out of so many guests. With a hand in his pocket and the other gripping a new glass on champaign, the boy took a sip, his eyes scanning once more. "Итак, что об этом пари (So, what about this bet)?" Bent prodded, tossing a grin her way as his chocolatey gaze wandered her frame for a brief moment.

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tagged: Lidia
location: Mansion
outfit: click here

[- serendipity]

ＴＡＬＬＵＬＡＨ ＫＹＬＩＥ ＧＲＥＹ
{ tally } - { eighteen } - { single / no crush } - { BlackStar } - { extraction, distraction & disguise }

From Gabrielle's overzealous actions, Tallulah presumed that she was going off the behaviour she thought was suitable for a party of this caliber. "эй, тон его вниз лишь чуть да? (hey, tone it down just a tad yeah?)" She whispered under her breath, not risking falling back into english until there was a crowd load enough to drown most speech out. The party music and chatter was loud but not loud enough outside for Tally to be extremely comfortable. But a moment later all source of worry was gone of her face and Tally looked like a socialite who had come from a very prestigious background and belonged at the party. Certainly not a British assassin who had trained in America since childhood. "хорошо, потому что вам лучше идти в ногу! (good because you better keep up!)" The brunette said, grinning at the girl who people had to think was her best friend.

She walked along Gabrielle as they stepped inside making sure she ignored the men on the doors and only looked at those who were a part of the party. She was a guest not a servant and they needed to be treated as servants. She didn't want to but looking at her demeanor you would never have guessed that. The accents and colours of outfits were overwhelming and as Tallulah - thankfully - shrugged off her heavy coat and passed it to the man who had his arm out for it; she took a moment to take a deep breath. And in a second she was definitely ready. The brunette was amused at Gabrielle but she played along, looking at the boy her partner had pointed out and then nudging her excitedly in the ribs, as if she was agreeing. When he walked past she sent a coy smile in his direction and a haze of red formed on his cheeks. At Gabrielle's command she giggled and her eyes watched him as he walked away, taking the chance to put a real image to the mental map the earlier projection of Piotr's mansion had formed.

Gabrielle's next words made her put a smile on her face and she responded eagerly, "не может быть более правильно. (couldn't be more right.)" She let out another giggle, this one edging on an actual laugh and then reached across her friend, and picked two glasses up from the tray of a passing waiter. "ой! но вы должны были быть там, на вечеринке в прошлом месяце матери, в Вермонте. он был наполнен великолепными парнями. (oh! but you should have been there, at mother's last month's party, in vermont. it was filled with gorgeous guys.)" Another laugh escaped her lips and she took a sip of the champagne, revelling in the bubbly and warm fizz it made once it had passed down her throat. About to start talking again, she paused when Bentley's voice sounded in her ear. To keep up the pretence though, she carried on talking about "mother's party in Vermont", but at a much lower decibel.

She finished her made up story with a climax she hoped would keep the eavesdroppers happy of her socialite status and then started to look around the room, every so often touching Gabrielle and pointing at boys who were actually quite attractive. Bentley came into her line of vision during this and she made sure to give him the same treatment every other male had gone under when they entered her gaze. If the Tanha agents were looking they'd see her just registering him as another male and then dismissing him. She was mainly looking for the tagger. When she did spot him, 'scrawny' seemed the wrong word to use. Sure, he wasn't the most muscly of guys but he was handsome. These thoughts didn't stray from the adolescence part of her brain though and she was glad she had common sense enough not to tell Gabrielle her thoughts. Talk about trusting someone.

Tallulah took another sip of champagne and then started up another conversation with Gabrielle, her eyes still occasionally sweeping the room. When someone came and asked her to dance she said said, making sure her expression was slightly disgruntled. Her dance partner looked to be in his late thirties and sported a goatee and a gold tooth. "если вы меня извините. (if you'll excuse me.)" She smiled at Gabrielle, her words phrased as a question but said as a statement. The girl handed Gabrielle her, now empty, champagne glass and set down her clutch. She was not worried about anyone picking it up and if they did it would most likely only reaffirm her story of being a socialite. Inside was her fake ID, a scattering of make up and a phone filled with contacts. All of which, if you called them, would be redirected to the BlackStar HQ where another agent would take the call, pretending to be said contact.

Now able to dance, she took the arm offered to her by the man - who had introduced himself as Leonard - and walked with him to the dance floor. A waltz was being played and Tally quickly fell into step, pulling all the films in which she had seen waltzes being danced into her head. The assassin kept a loose conversation going, every so often letting her eyes fall back onto a male who she would much rather be dancing with. As well as looking at Gabrielle and sending her friendly but "get me out of here" glances. "Вы видели наш хозяин на ночь мисс? (have you seen our host tonight miss?)" Her ears perked up at this but she made sure not to show any different emotion in her face. She didn't want to reveal to the man that this was all she wanted from him. Giving her answer in the negative he proceeded to shake his head and mutter under his breath in what she caught as French.

"Скорее всего, он скрывается где-то с бутылкой вина! (most likely he is holed up somewhere with a bottle of wine!)" Tallulah gave an obligatory and polite laugh, quickly pressing on the bottom jewel on her ornate necklace. The necklace and stone were real, but the gem inset at the bottom was actually a recording device. The dance finished after another four or so minutes of chatter and Tallulah nodded her head as he kissed her knuckles - old fashioned she thought - and then walked away. Strolling leisurely back to Gabrielle she reached up to her ear, under the pretence of fixing something with her hair, and fiddled with a button. This was the button that would send what she had just heard through to Bentley and the others. Reaching Gabrielle she gave her friend a grin and whispered a few nonsense words to her, as if talking about the man she had just danced with. "его офис находится на первом этаже. Мне и Габриэль прошел мимо, когда мы вошли, никто не видел его по-видимому, он, вероятно, будете там. (his office is on the ground floor. me and gabrielle walked past it when we came in. no one has seen him apparently; he'll probably be in there.)" Her finger pressed down on the earpiece as she spoke, sending her words through to all of the others. [ outfit ]

{ tagged: gabrielle, all - last two paragraphs, bentley }

like arty, if this doesn't fit in with anyone's plans just ignore the last bit xD }}

[eden .]

>> you two [you know who you are and if you're unsure then it's probably not you] I'm going ahead I'm getting impatient SUCKS.
>> also like any random person can stop her like arty I know that you wanted to try and convince alex to have some fun but like this might be one of the last chances until after she wins the document in a cat fight so
>> hm was I not supposed to let people know that you were going to ask her to dance adlfj;alsdkf

αleх • ĸeυм
___________________________________________________________________________________________________________

eιɢнтeeɴ | ғeмαle | тαɴнα | cold reαdιɴɢ, eхтrαcтιoɴ, ιɴтerroɢαтιoɴ, recoɴɴαιѕѕαɴce

Alex blinked to show Skye she'd heard him when he passed her to go upstairs, but she wasn't sure if he'd seen her or not. Oh, well, it didn't really matter. She turned her head before she became suspicious, trusting that Skye would be able to go up a flight of damn stairs without too much incident.

With a small leap of panic, Alex heard a small crack nearby, but when she looked, she saw it was just the blonde guy with the blonde girl who had broken his glass. She heard him mutter something in Russian before he zoomed off some place -- the opposite direction of her, unfortunately, and she wasn't about to follow him if she couldn't help it [that would look weird, right?] -- and he left the blonde girl by her lonesome for a moment to do what she wanted. Alex turned her back to her momentarily to mutter, "The blonde guy's gone off somewhere. Probably the bathroom. He must've scratched up his hands when he broke the glass he was holding, just now. The girl hasn't moved yet, though."

Alex rested against the buffet table and crinkled her brow a little as she considered the other dancers. So far, nothing much had happened, although there was a possibility that there were three Blackstar agents here. Probably more, knowing them. Which was going to be a problem.

"If you're sweeping the top," Alex said into the ear piece quietly, in a monotone low enough that it blended with the cello part that resounded through the hall. Looked like learning Beethoven's Opus first wasn't such a bad idea, "I'll take bottom. Tom, if you're going to stay at the front door then I'm going to the basement." Almost without waiting to see if he agreed but deciding that she could just stop if he objected [which she saw no reason he would, since she was already inside and technically, he had already tagged the blonde guy, but you never know], she began slinking towards the basement entrance, tracing the floor plans in her minds eye. Hopefully, she'd be able to get out of there quick and fast.

"If you don't hear from me in twenty minutes," Alex mumbled as she turned a corner and began to descend into the basement, "come calling."

[Artesian]

John Markov

--x--

On/Off the Job

Nineteen: Male
Blackstar: Medical
Dancing and getting in the way.
Tagged: Bentley, Tally, Alex.

After a successful dance and even getting a tidbit of information, Markov considered that he was doing pretty well. As his last tactic had been both pleasant and productive, he decided to repeat it, and asked another lady to dance, this time an older woman who was nearly his height and twice his width. "Вы прекрасно выглядите (you look lovely)," he said, and she responded with a tittering comment about a little gentleman that he supposed meant him.

As he danced, he scanned his eyes about the room, and just caught the tail end of Bentley's deliberate champagne calamity. He took in a sharp breath, which startled the older woman. "Что не так? (what's wrong?)" she asked. Markov's earpiece almost made him jump - Bentley's voice was louder then he had expected - but he listened intently as their leader of sorts explained about the tagging. Huh, their opponents tonight were teenagers? How interesting, now he had an excuse to ask ladies his own age to dance.

He explained his reaction to the woman, turning her mechanically though several turns like a skipping record as he listened to Bentley's description. "кто-то сломал стекло. (Someone broke a glass)" To the best of his knowledge, he hadn't been near any boys his own age... was he safe? A peculiar feeling rose in his ears and nose at the possible opportunity. Find the document, place it on his person where no one would think to look for it A short kid, an assassin? Don't make me laugh...

No, that was a stupid impulse. He wasn't some kind of action hero; think inconspicuous and harmless for now, you clumsy kid. He came to his senses after the fifth pointless turn in a row, and lead the woman into a more sedate promenade a little ways across the floor. Ah, it appears Tally has arrived, Markov thought as he noticed the lovely girl in her pinkish dress. (Doubtless there was a name for that sort of grayish.. pinky thing, but pink was about all he could think of describe the dress, besides somewhat pretty in shimmery kind of way.) He carefully kept himself from dwelling on Tally for more than a few seconds, leading his partner into a soft sweeping turn.

The song ended with a last thrum of strings and Markov nodded to his partner, thanking her for the dance. Wandering off the dance floor, he heard a remark from Tally about a ground floor office, but he dismissed it, as neither document-snatching and unsociable Russian uncle killing were his department. He resisted the urge to scratch his ear and parked himself around behind a corner to mentally prepare himself for trouble. With Tanha Agents here, it was coming.

He hated this, waiting for a cry of pain or a panicked yelp over the com. He balanced between the cheerful hope that he'd prove to be absolutely and completely useless in a good way and the icy tension of waiting for that crucial moment when his skills would be necessary. It was even worse, in its own way, then fighting for someone's life. He felt unstable, sick to his stomach, unsure of his place in this, as well as just plain bored. He shoved his hands in his pockets and let out a whistle of air from his teeth. Useless or used, what do you want to be? Make up your mind.

Then Blue-Haired Asian came around the corner, muttering to herself and walking - no, slinking - out of the main room. Oh ho, now who is this? He straightened up from his leaning position against the wall, casually blocking her way in what he hoped was a non-confrontational manner. "привет тебе, скучаю, (Greetings, miss)" he commented, and added, with the first thing that came to mind, " Xотите потанцевать? (Would you like to dance?)"

Well, that was a dumb thing to say, kid, he chastised himself, but what was done was done. At least, if she refused (which was terrible etiquette at a party like this), he would know that slinking wasn't her normal mode of locomotion, and that the muttering to herself wasn't just a harmless personality quirk.

((Augh I can't write such a headache bye sorry for the horridness.

EDIT: This post has been edited for readability. Asian, feel free to smack/slap/brush past or otherwise hassle Markov. I don't mind, and he can take it. ;D ))