Mar 03 22:28:29 107 PA - Rasputin and Sofiya Plot
From Chronicles
Weather at Fri Mar 03 22:28:29 107 PA (-10.96C, 12.28F):
It's rather gloomy out, and a light wind brings heavy snow flakes fluttering about to form large snow drifts. The full moon hangs overhead.
Kingsdale - Yakov's Deli
Rasputin's Deli is a lively place, normally a short man is behind the counter serving up orders of beef, brisket, chicken, pork, sausage, fish and just about every other type of meat product you can imagine. Rasputin's is a well known secret to low, medium and high class people of all type. Rasputin has all sorts of customer's coming and going at all times of day or night. He isn't open 24-hrs, but he might as well be. As you walk into the Deli, next to the door is a small lunch counter which faces out into the street. Opposite to the deli counter are four small booths. Both of these locations serve as eating space for those that choose to grab a quick bite of food or one of Yakov's and Rasputin's famous five meat monster deli sandwiches. Most people don't use these booths, but the lunch counter is constantly being used, as it provides a great people watching vantage.
Players
Sofiya
Rasputin
The clouds dumping the snow outside seem to have plenty more to do, and the evening is drawing to a close in the deli. The customers are leaving and Sofiya is taking the credits from the last customer of the night. She is dressed appropriately, a good Russian girl, a skirt that goes past her knees and a waistcoat over a long sleeved top, with her sensible boots. Around her waist is tied a little apron, black and simple, and her hair is tied up into a ponytail. As the customers leave, she picks up a cloth and begins to wipe down the tables, tidying the deli up ready for the morning.
Rasputin comes up from the basement, arms full with tomorrows prep work. Meats, veggies, and other odds and ends. Rasputin is humming some Russian song as he moves over to the prep counter and begins to lay everything out for his work. Then moves over to scrub his arms very carefully before he begins.
Sofiya finishes the tables, and returns to lean on the counter, watching him in silence for a moment. "Do you want me to do any of that? I could go down and get anything else you need?" The offer is made sweetly, in Russia, with a smile. "Or perhaps chop something?"
Rasputin nods his head, and speaking in Russian, as he does when no one else is around, "Da, after you reset the tables, come wash your hands and assist." He turns around, "Da, you have already. Please, come wash, and work on these veggies. Da?" He sets them off to their own chopping board used for Veggies exclusively, and puts a high quality knive on the board.
Sofiya's grin is slightly smug at having done the chore already and she moves, dropping the cloth in the sink as she washes her hands. "'Putin, someone suggested I trap this guy, record him saying he sent the bomb...what do you think?" Sofiya joins him, picking up the knife and beginning to chop the vegetables carefully.
Rasputin begsin on his own work, slicing first cuttlets, then fingerlings, then fillets, and finally stew meat. He keeps each meat to its own containers and piles. Making sure that the different types don't touch each other, and are kept 'clean' He looks to you, as he works, "This is a thug, da? Ganger, he fears da law very little. To record him would be used for blackmail, what would you blackmail him with?"
Sofiya slices the vegetables carefully, her face thoughtful, as carrots and peppers get piled separately. "He is a ganger, but I thought I could send it to the others, and prove I didn't. Then they can kill the right person." She speaks calmly, utterly ruthless with the comment, her face serious and set. "Then I can work again, and I won't have to watch myself all the time."
Rasputin nods slowly and thinks about this. Having completed his meat work, faster than most could start it, he places his work in the display case. Then cleans his works space, you notice, something you may have never noticed before, he uses magic to clean. He actually uses a small spell to clean things, after he has cleaned them already. Talk about a neat freak. He then pulls out a large amount of fish, and begins to cut it down, deboning it with skill and grace, "Da. Would those people believe a recording? Such things can be created with the right money, da? Might you need to be doink something more? Or do you feel it would be enough?"
Sofiya finishes the vegetables, piling them up ready for him, tidying up her work space as she speaks. "They might not. We could arrange to meet them there or something. Maybe tell them to be there, and confront him without him knowing..." Sofiya's face is serious, intent, and she turns to point at Rasputin, using the knife. "I think doing that would work. Then they can see it really wasn't me." She is frowning, thinking hard.
Rasputin stops, sets down his knife and looks to you, "Or, he will be havink already convinced them and they shall turn you into a great Sofi sized fish fillet." He says with a fairly unpleasant look on his face.
Rasputin eyes the head of a fish, with nothing but a spine and bones left.
Sofiya lowers the knife, biting her lower lip, her forehead wrinkling. "He might have. But he thinks I am dead so his response should be real. Shouldn't it? I mean, if I don't get the proof, either way I'm dead, 'Putin." She turns, cleaning the knife off in the sink, putting it into its place.
Rasputin points to a chiller box under the display case, "Good, grab the onions under there, dice chop them up for tomorrow's stew." He then continues his fish work, making it look simple, "Da, true, he will be shocked, dhough if they think you dead you could remain that way, da?" He makes an flick of his knife finishing off a the last of the fish, then goes about carefully taking the 'waste' and putting it into a large tub, taking care not to leave any meat on the bones, "Are you so quick to return to your previous path?"
Sofiya follows his instructions, slicing onions quickly, her eyes on her job. "Because I'll always be looking over my shoulder, dressing differently to the way I want, and I miss it, 'Putin. I'm a good runner. I'm good at getting into spaces and getting out again." She puts the knife down, cupping her hands around the chopped onions and gathering them to drop into a bowl. "And I don't like my name being the person who dropped a bomb, 'Putin."
Rasputin finishes his work, with the fish and then, turns and puts them in the display case, "Da, da. One is what they must be, choices only enforce dhis." He goes back, to cleaning his station again. Again, after cleaning deeply, he uses magic to clean even more, "What if you attempt to speak to those who blame you first? Lay rumor of the falsehood of your guilt, seeink if dhey are open to the idea first. Testink the waters." He ponders, "Like crab or lobster, do not drop into boiling water. Ease dhem into cool to start, and slowly turn it ups." He looks around a moment and pulls out a large, pot and begins to fill it with water, "Da? Understand? Do you have any proof of your case?"
Sofiya finishes her chore, turning to watch him work, resting her hip against the counter. She folds her arms, her face thoughtful. "That might work. I could get some others..." Her voice trails off, her face setting into a thoughtful frown. "More than one way to boil a frog?" Sofiya gives him a thoughtful glance, narrowing her eyes slightly. "Sometimes I think you are wasted as a cook." The light teasing is familiar territory, and Sofiya smiles at him, shaking her head.
Rasputin chuckles as he takes the veggies you have chopped, inspects then and pours them all into the water. He then starts the flame on the stove with a flip of the dial and spark snap of fire, "Da, the passage from old home to new home taught us all many things, da?" He then takes some of the stew beef and pours it into the pot. Then, a few pieces of a very small fish. "I enjoy cooking, dis the most nobel think I do. Da?" He then begins to put various spices into the pot, measuring each out in the palm of his clean hands, no measuring tools needed or required. "Dhough, mink idea is not fool proof, all it is taking for someone to wonder where the rumors are coming from. Or someone to see through your guise." He looks to you, "Are ones who think you the attacker now, but before trusted you?"
Sofiya slides herself onto the counter, perching there with her legs dangling, her hands on the edge. "Nothing is fool proof." Sofiya's face is serious, her forehead wrinkling. "The ones who think I'm dead is my boss, the one who I ran for. The others, Clash. They knew who I was, who I ran for, and think I did it by myself now." She sums up, her face thoughtful. "So if I get the rumours out there, and then a message to them to come to meet ...and then we can get him to admit it wasn't me with them there."
Rasputin nods slowly, "Off," He says without even looking at you, then says, "Da, true. Did you know many try to make stew too fast, they cook it for too short of a time. And while it still has good taste, dit has net the warming soothing flavor. It takes time to do right, some stews take days." He looks to you, "Understand?"
Sofiya rolls her eyes but slides off the counter, leaning against it instead, folding her arms. "You mean don't rush this, Sofi, take it slow and be careful." Sofiya translates the stew comments in a singsong, her grin almost back to her old cocky one. "I'll be careful, 'Putin. Trust me." She lifts her chin slightly, her grin widening.
Rasputin nods slowly, "Da, da. You would be makink a good chief, yourself." He grins, "If I did net trust you, you would not be working here, da?" He looks to you and smiles, his eye brows bunching up a little bit, "Da?" Then he frowns, "One must make sure all of their ingrediants are good, fresh, and clean. Dhen make da stew. Are there any other ingreidiants you ned for this stew?"
Sofiya glances down at the ingredients for the stew, and then back to Rasputin with a grin. "I cook." The comment is soft, and she reaches over, putting the salt next to him. "I need to get the rumour out there first. And then I need to set it so I can ambush him with the Clash there, and back up so if it goes horribly wrong." She is making a list in her head, her eyes narrowing.
Rasputin nods and asks again, "Dis there anythink else? Perhaps, another meat? Something which compliments, or adds to the thickness?" He pulls down some corn starch, "Such as this, it isn't neede, net really. But thickens the stew without takink away from it." He puts a small amount in, "But net too much, da." He then adds your salt into it and winks.
Sofiya's eyes narrow on him, the cunning not always extending to intelligent leaps. "Are we talking about stew or my problems now?" Her forehead is wrinkled and she shakes her head quickly. "A recording of it might help, I guess. Proof he said it." She absently passes over the vegetables she cut.
Rasputin nods slowly, "Both." He stirs the stew a few times, then places a lid on it and turns the thermostate down. "Da, dis there an independent group, which might be interested in dhis informations? Another, gang dhich has no relation, but perhaps interest?"
Sofiya watches him with a frown, thinking too hard before she nods slowly. "The Family. Or the KDPD. But if I went to the police, I'd never be safe again, but the Family... this hurt the supply lines for some things." She nods slowly, straightening to untie her apron. "Thank you, 'Putin."
Rasputin nods, "Net havink to take my ideas, but building up slowly makes a good stew. Rushing a thing can end in burnt borshe." He smiles and then waves his hand at you, a soft flow of magic cleans you clothing, hair, body, and soul... Oh that is too far, but the idea is the same. "Now, go out with you. Let me work on my trade, and you on yours, da?"
Sofiya glances down, her mouth curving into a natural smile, the bravado dropped for a moment. "Thanks 'Putin." She steps forward, pressing a quick kiss against his cheek before she drops the apron on the side, and is gone. A runner indeed. Straight out of the door, grabbing her coat and heading to the apartment she definitely is not sharing with Zero, whatever it looks like.
