Barbican Arts Centre

For a while, Ivan could have sworn the Asian woman in front of him was planning to refuse his request. His mind had already started to go through different methods to possibly convince her otherwise, from trying to ask again to just moving her aside – he was a big man and the woman looked light enough to not be able to resist that much. He knew it wouldn't be polite to shove people though, and didn't want to get kicked out and miss the show he had come for, so that particular course of action left his thoughts as quickly as it had come.

And then, after a moment’s wait, a smile graced the woman’s lips, and Ivan's own smile instantly grew hopeful. A smile usually meant something positive, and he was pretty sure it indicated what he thought it did. Then again, her smile was more polite than warm to him, one of those ones people used when they carried grave news so as to not upset the listener. His success wasn’t yet guaranteed.

”Yes, you may,“ the woman finally replied, moving so as to make room for Ivan to slip past. And with an eager nod and a smile, he did. It might’ve just been one person out of a fifty something, but it was a start, and a stranger’s willfulness to help always warmed his heart. They’d surely become good friends, she and him.

”And... eating together sounds great. I’d love to join you, sir.”

She even agreed to dine together! Ivan was very happy about that. He really missed big dinners with lots of people gathered around to eat, joke and share a drink with.

But "sir", huh? The Russian was so used to hearing the word by now, both from his underlings and people who he met everyday and who wished to be polite, but it always sounded somewhat… off to him. Although he enjoyed the sense of superiority it brought, he considered it almost cold to be used between closer acquaintances. His men were practically forced by the Bratva’s code to show him respect, and receptionists and the like were told to do so by their bosses and work code, he knew, but it still always bugged him a tad. So, depending on how their little chitchat went, he might just ask her to drop the title. Friends didn’t need them.

“Thank you,” Ivan finally replied, turning around in his newly acquired spot in the line to face the girl again. His face was all smiles, warm, somewhat kiddy, as he spoke up again. “You’re being very kind! I don’t know what I would’ve done if you’d refused.”

His words were kind and calm enough to cover underneath the hidden, more sinister meaning they carried almost completely.

Almost completely.

For a while, Ivan wondered whether or not he should introduce himself. He knew it'd be polite to, but although not all of those familiar with his name knew who he worked for, most did, and his name was much more well known than his face. He wasn’t sure if speaking it aloud in a place so crowded with people would be a good idea. Then again, maybe it could help clear the line up a bit? There were still a lot of people left. One person didn’t make much a difference in making him get to the food faster, even if he was really glad to get his dining company.

“My name is Ivan Braginsky,” he finally settled to telling, deciding to omit his patronymic. As important as it was to him and his identity, people from Western (or Eastern, in this girl's case) nations rarely understood its meaning anyway. “Nice to meet you~”

As he waited for the girl to introduce herself in return, Ivan turned slightly to look at the rest of the people standing between him and his meal. His smile grew a tad weaker, and for a while his voice was laced with worry. “Do you think they’ll let us through if we ask, too?” He asked, continuing before he even realized it with a barely audible:“I don’t want to have to hurt them.”

Ivan watched as the girl started to walk towards the bunch of people standing directly in front of the two, conversing about things that the Russian held no interest in. He had only caught a few words here and there, but it was apparent the man acting as the group’s leader was not a pleasant person. His voice was condescending, and his tone held superiority Ivan couldn’t help but think was out of place. Surely enough the man was dressed well – a bit like Ivan himself right now – but fancy clothes and a big pile of money hardly made anyone better than the next person. It was precisely because of people like that guy that Ivan had joined the Bratva in the first place. It was people like those that he wanted to sweep off the face off the earth and keep from gaining a high status.

So, as the girl courageously walked up to the crowd and raised her voice, Ivan felt that her request would not be well-received. He wasn't sure whether to call it intuition or experience, but he knew people like that hardly cared for the well-being of others'. Ivan's smile was still in place, but his eyes grew sharper, darker with each passing second, his glare fixated on the group’s leader. He hoped he was just being overly critical, hoped he’d be wrong about the man.

“Excuse me, sir!” The girl began, and it was then that Ivan realized he had never gotten her name. She had never offered him an introduction, just sprung into action right after his rhetorical question. It felt a bit odd to him, rude even, but he truly hoped she’d fix her mistake posthaste once they advanced in the line a bit - especially since he had given her his own name despite the danger it might've brought to him.

“Can I and my friend over there cut the line a bit? H-he’s starving and… And I’m c-cold. So do you mind if we...?”

Ivan couldn't help but smile at the word "friend", even if only momentarily, as his happy thoughts were soon replaced with anxiety. There it was, the question he’d been waiting for her to ask, now all they'd need was an answer. He knew that any regular person with half a heart wouldn’t have minded stepping aside to let past a polite person in a rush, but the way these particular men looked at each other, and the way the group leader glared at the girl told Ivan these weren’t reasonable people. These were the bad guys. And Ivan knew from experience there were only two ways to deal with bad guys. Unfortunately, the girl probably wasn’t capable of using either method, so maybe it was time he’d step up and ask again?

"Missy, in this world there's nothing in the end that's free. If you want your food, you have to wait in line just like everyone else. It's no charity or Salvation Army."The leader of the little group finally replied after rousing a short round of laughter from his companions. Ivan really didn’t like him. That was no way to talk to someone who had approached them politely and with no ill intent. She was a girl, too, didn’t manners alone dictate she should be let through if nothing else?

Ivan took a step closer, smile never leaving his face as he walked behind the girl. He was tall enough for his face to be completely visible even from behind her head, so he didn't ask her to move. A face which, along with the ever-present smile, carried an ominous, warning look right now. Ivan’s eyes were closed and his head slightly tilted as he leaned over the girl, closer to the men. He didn't speak right away, just stood there and smiled before he was certain each of the men were focused on him. He'd try to let them off the hook one more time, give them one more opportunity to prove they were just misguided, and that a friendly reminder would be enough to make them reconsider.

“Excuse me, but we’d really appreciate it if you just moved~” Ivan began in his usual singy-sangy voice, “There is a show I really want to see, and I’ll be late if I don’t get to eat now. The show is really important to me too, I’ve wanted to see it for so long.”

His smile widened ever so slightly as he continued, all the kiddiness in his voice gone for a fleeting moment, replaced by a low, deep tone: “So long that, I’d kill to see it tonight.”

The second passed, and Ivan's previous tone was back and his violet eyes open, looking directly into the leader man's. "So, please?"

Ivan waited anxiously for the European woman’s reply, sincerely hoping his memory hadn’t let him down. He wasn’t that good with European names, especially if they were long ones like hers (surprisingly enough, he didn’t have any trouble with the longer Russian names, not even when you included patronymics) and he had only glanced at the actor list for tonight’s show briefly. He kept his hopes up as she turned to him though, smiling as he waited. Meeting a real actor of one of his favorite shows the first time he visited the Arts Centre would be incredibly lucky, a nice diversion from his usual bouts of bad luck.

And then the answer came, and Ivan’s smile widened at the words. He had been right. The Russian felt both excited and proud at that, as the ability to remember names was something very important in his ‘profession’ of choice. Maybe he was getting better at it. Either way though, Ivan didn’t get to continue on the subject any further before the woman had already announced she was in a rush. Aw, well this meeting sure was brief. Ivan was just about to grab the woman’s arm and tell her that leaving so early on during a conversation was both rude and a big disappointment to her fans, when she extended her hand on her own accord to give him and Ada two passes which apparently granted them access to the front rows – places usually reserved for people with wealth and status to fight their way there.

Ivan forgot all about grabbing the woman after that and just smiled, nodding a warm thank you as she turned to leave and rush towards the backstage. He turned the pass in his hand, not being able to help but think that knowing people sure was useful. Well, he had always known that the right contacts could oftentimes be more useful than any weapons or money especially in the underworld, but to think it showed this strongly in “proper” society as well. Huh. He would really need to go out and make more friends in high places. Get involved where he could, until the entire city’d be dancing upon the palm of his hand, his to drop and crush – and of course, later rebuild – at will.

Just then, Ivan’s newest friend spoke up from beside him, and whatever questionable smile had almost managed to creep on his face disappeared as he turned to her. She commented on how good of a person Ms. Lewis was, and then went on to say something the Russian couldn’t have agreed with more.

”It’s quite rare for famous people to stay humble after they reached the top.”

Ivan’s smile grew a tad melancholic at that. There was so much truth in those words and yet, he still found it a tad difficult to believe he wasn’t the only one who had noticed the phenomenon of people growing more selfish the more power they got. Indeed, that had greatly contributed to him choosing the criminal path. It was so much easier to get rid of bad, selfish people from there. Easier to take their place and show how a real leader should lead a nation, how to lead the world. He had seen many politicians and activists try and speak their mind against the bigger powers of the world, but always in vain. Talking wasn’t the way. The only way to make a real difference was to seize absolute control over everything and make sure there would be no those who disagreed with you. And for that purpose, Ivan needed to one day lead the Bratva. But first, he needed underlings. Underlings loyal enough to be on his side the day he decided to turn on the current Bratva leaders and take over. People who shared his views… just like this girl here did.

That made Ivan’s brows raise a tad as an idea flowed into his mind; could this girl be a candidate? They were friends already, weren’t they? Surely, she would be ecstatic to help him out and work for him, and he would even offer her payment for it too.

As the girl slapped her forehead and realized she had forgotten to ask for an autograph, she seemed to be blissfully unaware of the curious look forming onto the Russian’s face. Would she accept his offer? Did she already have a job? Would a position in the underworld scare her? And, more importantly, what would her actual work be? She lacked the muscle or the attitude to work as a punisher or a thug. So what then? A spy? He did have to admit he was short on those, and the girl didn’t seem to have any trouble fitting into normal society; helped that she probably didn’t have a criminal background like most of their current spies did. The Russian’s eyes gained a dangerous, intense spark to them. Yes, she did sound pretty ideal when he thought about i-

“Um... do you mind if our table is near the window? I kinda like watching the street around this time.”

Ivan snapped out of his thoughts once more, looking a bit dazed for several seconds before he realized the two had finally reached the restaurant’s counter. Both the person behind the counter and Ada were looking at him now, with an expectant look in their eyes. Oh, that was right, he had been asked a question. Um. A bit embarrassed, Ivan rushed to answer.

“Ah, no, not at all,” he began, smiling, “It… is fine!”

Even after his reply though, Ivan still wasn’t entirely sure as to what exactly he was agreeing to. He was just happy to finally be able to eat, and it wasn’t until they were led towards their table that he finally realized what the girl had asked him and, more importantly, what she had said after that.

She likes watching the streets around this time?

A bit confused, Ivan glanced out the window, as if an explanation would have stared right back at him from there. Did she just enjoy people watching? Was she waiting for someone specific to pass by? Was she afraid of someone; was there someone after her? Ivan figured, after the questions kept on flowing to mind, that the best way would just be to ask her about it.

So, as the two finally sat down, Ivan looked at her, blinking a tad and asked: “Why do you like watching the streets?” He figured he’d leave his work suggestion for a tad later. First he needed to find out some more about this new friend of his. “And, also, how did you end up here in London? You’re far away from home right, aren’t you~?”