1510/*knockknock* Candygram.

knockknock* Candygram.
Date of Scene:	17 July 2017
Location:	Unknown
Synopsis:	Summary needed
Cast of Characters:	Akula, Ares

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Akula has posed:
'It's Midnight at the Oasis' is playing somewhere from speakers outside the Watermark Bar in Manhattan. The staff inside are still cleaning up after closing time, but a few patrons outside linger with their bottles and cans. It will be time for them to go too, soon, but for now, no one really feels bothered to shoo them out. They've worked hard and they've earned a little more time under the stars.

Under the water just a short distance away, a large figure is swimming beneath the surface, headed towards the first place a hand could find purchase to get to the shore. Anyone looking out over the river's surface will see a tall slate gray fin rising out of the water as it gets closer to the bar. There's a splash as a tail momentarily beats against the waves.

Akula has posed:
'It's Midnight at the Oasis' is playing somewhere from speakers outside the Watermark Bar in Manhattan. The staff inside are still cleaning up after closing time, but a few patrons outside linger with their bottles and cans. It will be time for them to go too, soon, but for now, no one really feels bothered to shoo them out. They've worked hard and they've earned a little more time under the stars.

Under the water just a short distance away, a large figure is swimming beneath the surface, headed towards the first place a hand could find purchase to get to the shore. Anyone looking out over the river's surface will see a tall slate gray fin rising out of the water as it gets closer to the bar. There's a splash as a tail momentarily beats against the waves.

Ares has posed:
    At one of the picnic bench tables, John Aaron and two other men are exchanging casual words even as they speak hunched over the half-empty bottles of beer they have from the bar. All of them are wearing work clothes, construction boots, blue jeans, and t-shirts, though John's is black while the other two men have white t-shirts. All of them are rough, dirty, grime clinging to each and all three smelling like they'd been working for hours on end at entirely too hard labor.
    Which they had.
    "Never understood why this place closes at ten. Ten of all times? The hell is up with that?" Says one of John's co-workers.
    "Yeah, kinda crazy. I mean nice of them to let us stay here and all, but still. I want to get my drank on, man."
    The tall man there at the table, however, just sort of leans to the side and smiles. He gives a small shrug, "It's close to the site, and their burgers are passable. Enough for me."
    "Bah."

Akula has posed:
*Crunch.*

Fingers dig into the side wall of the bar's viewing platform near the riverside, leaving holes.

*Crunch.* Another hand digs into the concrete as if it were cardboard.

*Crunch. Crunch. Crunch.* The sound is getting louder as something or someone scales their way up the side, leaving a clear trail of gouged stone all the way up to the railing.

A hand grabs hold of the railing, then another, and a large female figure pulls herself up and over, landing with a heavy *thud* on the far end of the viewing platform.

She's over eight feet tall, dripping wet, slate blue on the back and paler gray on the front. Fins jut out from the sides of her arm, and one from the middle of her back. A massive tail with thresher shark fin is held slightly off the ground, curled forward. Long wet hair streams down her shoulders, front and back. She doesn't appear to have a stitch of clothing on, but fortunately she's as inoffensive as the underside of a porpoise. Fiery yellow orange eyes regard the men at their table as she opens a tooth-filled mouth and speaks.

"Vy gavarite pa rUsski?" Sounds slavic.

Ares has posed:
    The two co-workers have their backs towards her, but John... he's looking right at her. She'll probably be able to pick him out of that small group. One of the co-workers is a shorter overweight black man, the other is a middling height man with shaggy black hair. They're both in the middle of a mid-tirade and at first don't notice the approach of the large shark-like individual.
    "And so eventually I just told her, 'babe, just wear whatever you want.'"
    But then they stop, "What's up, John?"
    "Hm," The man with the shaved head turns it slightly to the side, dark brown eyes leveling upon the woman, narrowing. He then hears her speak, which is perhaps not something he had been expecting. One eyebrow lifts.
    "C'mon is..." And then she speaks and the two men start to look behind them.
    "Don't turn around. You remember when those men attacked the worksite?"
    "Uhh." The two men freeze, "Yeah?"
    "This is sorta like that."
    "Oh, shit." They both say in unison.
    "Get up and sorta run thattaway." John jerks a thumb over his shoulder.
    The two men obey at least.
    But then he gains his feet and he's tall... but nowhere near as tall as her. To her he's a good foot and a half shorter, yet thick of build with a grim manner to him. A few moments pass as the other men flee and then he lifts his voice,
    // I do. // He replies in Russian.

Akula has posed:
Her eyes trace the running away, but then fall back on the one that's staying. He's quite impressively built for a straight human (or so she believes him to be), so she stands up. The way he carries himself, without fear, without foolishness, commands her attention. This is nothing like the insane six-armed woman she met last night. Perhaps the encounter will be more fruitful.

// Good. I require information of you, Americanski. What is the present date, and where is this place? I recognize that I am in the American coast, in their 'New York', but the landscape has changed much. //

Ares has posed:
    She'll see his eyebrows lift, but then he nods in agreement to her words. He'll step closer, moving around that picnic table and taking up a place a mere few paces from her, his arms folding over his chest. Those dark brown eyes slide over her powerful well-muscled form, gauging, considering. If it comes to it a brawl will be inconvenient, perhaps difficult depending on her talent. But she has made no threatening movements, for now she is just another New Yorker who has lost their way.
    // It is July 17th, 2025. //
    Then he touches a fingertip to his chest and says simply, // My name is John. //

Akula has posed:
// Thirty years. // She exhales slowly, grimmacing, looking to the side, to the city. // Thirty years since I have surfaced. No small thing that it changed. // Her eyes go back to John. // You speak Russian very well. Are you a loyal Soviet? An infiltrator the militsya sent to the capitalist dogs, perhaps? This country spreads her legs for anyone who says they are a defector. // That brings a smile to her face and she laughs under her breath.

Ares has posed:
    His arms fold over his broad chest as he looks to her, brow furrowing in consideration. She'll see him listen to her words, and then take his time as he in turn gives some thought as to what to say in return. Yet while he contemplates the current situation, he'll walk slowly to the side, letting his eyes drift over her, up, down, around. Hm.
    He uncurls a hand in her direction, as if asking her to accept the words he has to give her, // Much has passed for you, the country, the world. //
    He lifts his chin, eyes holding her own, // The USSR is no longer, Russia still stands strong, however. There is relative peace in the world between nations save for in the Middle East. And in the last five years there has been a proliferation in gifted individuals such as yourself. //

Akula has posed:
// I know it well. The nation I gave my blood for, killed for, as a loyal Soviet, is dead, and in its place is the shell of weaklings and cowards. Those who rose to power with *money* instead of -skill-. They called for 'openness' while subjecting my special forces comrades to the indignity of answering to [censored]-licking police! // Her voice raises, anger and bitterness in it as she speaks. It may have been three decades ago, but her mind, the betrayal is still fresh.

Ares has posed:
    A nod is given, and this strange man who is simply speaking with her, just chatting, seems utterly unafraid despite their size difference and he rather... edged physique. He keeps his arms folded over his chest, head tilting to the side somewhat as he looks upon her, then he answers.
    // It is unfortunate what has passed for you, but that tie is past. You will need to live in the now lest your future of options be taken from you, should you transgress against those here. //
    He tilts his head to the other way, // You are without funds and connections, correct? //

Akula has posed:
// Yes, // She replies. // I am capable of sustaining myself. Money is a convenience to me. // What good Red Army soldier would allow their pride to be damaged by admitting to weakness? It's obvious that she is a fish out of water in so many, many ways, but if John has picked up on the subtle hints dropped - that she is Soviet special forces, a hardened and likely battle-proven soldier - he will know that she will never take handouts or bribe.

Yet, she will need both money and contacts if she is to have any kind of life. If she is so self-sufficient, why has she even come to shore at all?

Ares has posed:
    Needless to say his eyebrow lifts with a glimmer of incredulity. She will need time, security, and a chance to acclimate at her own speed, her own pace moderated by perhaps occasional exposure to the new. One some level he should turn his back, let this situation resolve itself one way or the other. The meta-prison facilities are filled with a variety of people who have had as dark a story as hers and been left to fend for themselves.
    But then again.
    // If you would aid me, I have a situation you could be of assistance with. //
    He stops walking around her and peers at her levelly, features calm and controlled. // I have a storage facility which was robbed recently. Its contents taken. I could use a person to maintain watch of the place at times, and who could avail themselves of the facilities there. A water tank could be arranged, and it has a large area that could be converted into a training area. It would give you time to get up to speed. I would be able to pay you. //

Akula has posed:
It sounds as good a deal as any, but there needs to be some clarification of terms. // And what is required of me if the thieves return? Do I kill them? Eliminate the bodies? Or turn them over to your police? // she asks. Then, with another chuckle she adds, // If you pay me, pay me half in vodka! // She thrusts a fist into the air at the mention of it, in good spirits at the thought of a bout of drinking. // Even in rationing, we had two bottles a week. //

Ares has posed:
    // Because I want a drunk security guard. // But as he says this he meets her eyes and she might very well see a small ghost of a smile at the corner of his mouth as he tells her that, // Don't worry, you'll be decently supplied. I would not be so cruel as to employ a Russian soldier and deny them their life's blood. //
    He rubs at the back of his neck and looks thoughtful as his eyes drift towards the parking lot, then back to her, // You should be able to fit in the back of my vehicle. Come along, let's get you settled. I will ask you for your aid, in return I shall provide you with safe haven, supplies, and training should you need to hone your skills. Is this acceptable to you? //

Akula has posed:
She's almost offended at that first comment, eyes narrowing. //I never drink on duty,// she informs him firmly, almost sharply. The minor insult is forgiven quickly, and she takes in the offer.

// Your vehicle must be large to fit me, friend. But we shall see. Yes, I will agree to your terms for now. If you are lying to me, I will bite out your brain before a thought crosses from one ear to the other. // From her tone of voice, it's hard to tell if that's the standard military bravado coming out, or a simple statement of fact.

// If you are CIA and lying to me, I will eat your whole family, even dog and goldfish. //

Ares has posed:
    "I am not CIA," John says as he gives her a nod and then starts to walk towards the parking lot, "And if I betray you then I assuredly would expect you to do naught else."
    That having been said he presses on, "C'mon."

Ares has posed:
    The SUV had been suitable, though it required the back seats be pushed down and give her the freedom of the rear. But she's able to get in and hunker down and at least have some measure of comfort. Then they pull out of the parking lot and roll onto the streets, getting onto the high way around the city as he takes her towards the old storage facility that used to provide a place of security for some of his ancient artifacts.
    Now, however, when they pull up and he steps out of the SUV, leading her towards the two story warehouse building, it seems to house naught save some old broken crates and some shattered ceramics that may have been worthwhile at some point, but for now are worthless.
    The large door is rolled back and allows them to step inside, a hand reaches to the switch to bring the lights on with a series of mechanical /clangs/ that cause the warehouse to ring with faint echoes. He walks in and then waits for her to enter before he closes the door behind him.
    "For now... I was thinking you could sleep on some of the freight blankets that are piled up over there. If you need water there is that storage container," That one that looks like it normally goes on the back of a truck. "Can fill it with water, won't be as good as a salt water aquarium, but should keep you hydrated if needs be."
    There's a tilt of his head as he gestures to a large cleared area that could easily be a training area, "And there if you need to exercise, there are weights in the area. Let me know what you may need and I will see about getting it for you."

Akula has posed:
Akula follows John in. As the doors are suited for John's height, she has less trouble with them than she would standard architecture. She has a look around, stopping to make mental note of all the potential places that she could be ambushed, and every place she could ambush -from-. Nothing is missed, and she lags in conversation as she maps things out. Still sharp as ever. "Any water is good water. You are right, I need it." She's fine with sleeping on the floor if that was what was required. She endures hardness as a good soldier, as the saying goes.

"Why are you helping me? You cannot be doing this just for my muscle. There is other less troublesome muscle that can be found."

Ares has posed:
    "Because you are a drawn blade that will cut someone unless I give you a sheath." He turns around from the door and faces her directly, his eyebrow quirking as he gauges this mountain of a woman who stands there in the fluorescent light of the warehouse, their shadows cast long and their forms revealed in the harsh gleam of those bulbs so high in the metalwork.
    "Also because you are a being who needs help and I can provide it. Perhaps I am mistaken to do this for you, perhaps you will later turn on me. But I am accepting of those possibilities."
    That having been said he walks past her, moving further into the warehouse as he says, "Tomorrow I will bring you a computer assistant that will help answer your questions in full. It is a voice activated computer of sorts." He turns back to look at her, his hands on his hips. "Also what would you like to eat? I'm a passingly decent cook, but I do not know what you care to eat."

Akula has posed:
Akula mutters something under her breath about putting a sword in a sheath, looking up at the ceiling. She gathers her long hair into a ponytail at the back of her neck, and knots it on itself loosely, to hold it in place there. "I will not turn on you unless you give me sufficient reason for it. Even though I was betrayed by my country, I did not betray them in kind."

Satisfied with this, she stands at attention, and brings her hand up to salute. "I am Lead Seaman Ulianna Sofiya Saratov, Special Forces Group B of the Soviet People's Army," she introduces. John gave his name, and is going to be her employer. He is due that respect. "I am called Akula. 'Shark'," she explains. "You may call me whatever you like, even "old whore", if it suits you." She gives a good-natured grin as she speaks. "I eat whatever I catch, but I eat much. More than you can cook, I think, unless you cook for whole platoon. If it pleases you, I will eat whatever you want to cook."

Ares has posed:
    "Ulianna," John takes the time to let that name hang there in the silence between them, only the faint hum from the lights above is heard between them. He gives her a nod and then introduces himself as he says, "I am John Aaron." His head tilts to the side, she deserves this much at the least, if not the entire truth. "I am a warrior, and if you need to hone your skills I will match myself against you. But do not take a life unless they threaten your own, and this dwelling is not worth a death. Though discouragement... is welcome."
    His lip curves a bit as he nods to her, "I'll see about getting you supplies you can prepare for yourself." He gestures to the side, "There is a restroom and shower facility through that door over there if you so need it. What would you have of me tonight before I depart?"

Akula has posed:
"You seemed a warrior to me," she agrees. "I would gladly train with you, to see if there are any new ways to fight, and if you so desire the test." She snorts a little. "But I will have to be gentle with you. You look as if you will tear easily."

She has a seat on the floor. "I am fine for now. What I would have of you ...." She trails off, eyeing him, then shakes her head negatively and laughs loudly.

Ares has posed:
    A snort comes from him as he shakes his head, "Perhaps after I have recovered something of myself, you caught me at an ill time just after my time working. So I am not entirely at my best."
    A few steps away as he turns to move towards that door he pointed out before. "Clear the floor, perhaps put some of the blankets down for padding, and we will train together before I depart. I am curious what you will be able to do. But you will not have to be gentle," His lip curls a bit, even as he reaches that door and shoulders it open.