Red Spy In The Base [Ivan+Rosy]

After Arthur had left his store, charging him with locating the elusive "Sinsar Dubh", Ivan knew he had a lot of digging to do and he couldn't exactly let everybody in Mythos know what he was looking for, especially considering it was some sort of forbidden tome... from what he'd gathered. The Unseelie were obviously not on the list of harmless folk and poking around in their business could even get a curious bodark killed with a swift removal of said bodark's head. He had to find some other way to gather information secretly. He had his army of books available to pick through, but he had other sources he wanted to consult first... whether or not the source knew they were a source.

The one Sidhe he knew seemed to like him and as long as he didn't say specifically what he was looking for... or hint at it too much, he could probably get some good informative leads from her rather easily. When she wasn't being cryptic and trying to hide secrets in his bookstore, she seemed light-hearted and friendly. It would be a piece of cake, right? Oh... Ivan had a hard time with people though... At least he was in her "favor" or "good graces" or some archaic honor system of sorts.

The one place the bodark knew to find the Sidhe... her pub. It was a nice pub, he'd seen it before, passed by it specifically, and heard many a good thing about it from shared patrons. Dressed in a warm grey sweater with his long, somewhat tattered scarf around his neck, Ivan pushed open the pub's door shyly with the hand that didn't have the paper tablet and pen.

Roisin handed a glass of her special brew to a dwarf that was a regular of hers. He wouldn't leave until morning, but he would be fully entertained all night. She just hoped there wouldn't be another brawl, she had just gotten the place fixed up again.

She glanced up as the door swung open, the tinkling of bells announcing a new customer. Her face lit up as she recognized the bodark bookkeeper. She waved him over to the bar. "Hullo, Ivan Nikolayevich!" she said, "It's good to see you again. Is there anything I can get you?"

Ivan perked up, visibly cheerful once the door swung closed behind him. He opened his arms wide with a loud, hearty, "Zdravstvuyte, Roisin Gallagher!" It was generally a very upbeat greeting when used on those he already knew, especially since she already addressed him so joyfully. It was only proper to return the favor. Besides, she seemed to be in a great mood, so his work was bound to be easier, so long as he didn't drop any... hints.

He trotted over to the bar, scarf flopping about in the wind much like his tail would have if he were not in this form. He set his tablet down on the table, along with the pen, as he hauled himself onto a bar-stool. "Actually, Ms. Gallagher," he said, voice-dropping in tone so as to be more discreet, which showcased his thick acent, "I hoped to be learning from you today~ I have many questions about..." The bodark leaned in, now officially whispering because he had no idea whether this was public knowledge or not, "Sidhe." Leaning back away, he smiled broadly as though it were nothing serious, waving a hand flippantly. "For my records, da~?" Oh, if only he could tell the whole truth. He hated having to keep secrets.

Rosy chuckled at his greeting. It was good to see him in such high spirits. She leaned over the bar, resting her weight on her forearms as he chose a stool. She leaned even closer to hear him as his voice grew softer.

Roisin blinked once. That's what he was being so quiet about? "Well then I'm the right woman to come to," she gave him a small wink, "I am an expert!" She made herself comfortable and grinned. "What do you need to know?"

Ivan grinned as he prepared to take notes. Good, she was up for playing his little game. That was just what he needed. "Xorosho~" he practically purred as his pen scrawled preliminary notes in Cyrillic on the paper.

"Could you, pozhaluyste, tell me first about, eh, 'Courts'?" he asked. He did have some information on the Sidhe Courts, but nothing with any depth as he had yet to peruse the tomes she'd sold to his collection. He only knew of two, the Courts of Light and Dark. Whatever they actually meant, he had no clue beyond the Seelie belonged to the Light and the Unseelie belonged to the Dark. It was the Unseelie he was really after right now, but he couldn't come out and say it. Besides, he had no idea which Court Roisin belonged to... He figured she was probably Seelie though, since she was so friendly. Who knew if it was some Unseelie deceptive technique though.

Regardless, Ivan was at the mercy of her willingness to share for the time being and he'd take whatever he could get from this lovely woman who has so freely offered her help... unwittingly aiding in his less-than-honorable quest.

Rosy took a moment to look at his writing. It was very pretty looking, in her opinion. She also used it as a chance to think out her reply. "Well all of the Courts are a part of the Kingdom Under the Hills. They are divided into the light and the dark with both ruled by a queen." She thought back and smiled a bit. "Queen Mab can be quite delightful when she wants, very imaginative."

She shook herself, "Sorry, nearly let myself go on a tangent. Any way, those are divided up into smaller courts, based on where they are. Time moves differently there." She gave a sardonic smile. "I still have problems with that, so I'm told."

Roisin was honestly a little lost. There was s much she could say about her ancient home. "There's a lot I can say about them. Was there anything specific you wanted to know about?"

Ivan copied all of this down as quickly as possible into Russian, translating in his head about as quickly as the words were spoken. This was how he'd always taken notes when speaking to people, so he'd gotten very good at it. Besides, it was even more secure since no other creature currently living in Mythos knew his language, let alone it's relatives Ukrainian and Byelorussian. He was pretty much restricted to using English for regular communication with his neighbors.

"Explain, please, to me concept of 'light and dark'?" he asked gently, not minding at all that she went on tangents. Semantic piece for semantic piece, he wrote it down... down to the space fillers. He could not afford to miss any cue and some important piece of information could be missed if he wasn't extremely thorough. Roisin would understand, since he was a bookkeeper after all and accuracy was the name of the game.

"Hmmm... how to explain it," she wondered aloud. None of the concepts were entirely straightforward. "Well the light, or the Seelie are considered to be creatures of light. They are connected to the rivers, the forests, the prairies... pretty much anywhere that light is more involved."

Roisin paused and pulled out her flask, taking a deep drink from the sweet liquor inside. "The dark Court, the Court of the Unseelie, is made up of different kinds of Sidhe. They're more involved with, well, darker places like lakes, mountains... you get the idea."

She made a face as she thought back. "We really don't get along that well," she admitted, "We just kind of tolerate each other and try not to have anymore wars." She focused back on the bodark. "Does that make sense?"

"Da," he said with a nod, voice dull like it would get when he was being professional. It was nothing against Roisin, just that he was now treating the situation like it was work. Once he'd gotten all of the information, though, he'd perk right back up.

Ivan continued to jot down the dictation as she spoke. This was beginning to sound somewhat familiar, but he kept writing it down. He weighed the concepts of "light" and "dark" as she explained them, but they only seemed to be related to places of preference. Honestly, it sounded originally like there would be more to that. "Is like 'good' and 'evil' or... more like 'day' and 'night'?" he asked, copying his own question down for posterity.

Roisin took another drink from her flask. "Oh, night and day, most definitely," she said immediately. "It's true that the Dark Courts have a more fearsome reputation, they aren't very friendly if you ask me, but some of them can be quite nice as well."

She glanced to the side, "And the Seelie can be just as fearsome if they're provoked."

The bodark tacked on this supplementary information. He'd need it for further investigation on how to deal with any other Sidhe he encountered. "Unseelie..." he parroted to himself before he looked back up to see Roisin.

"If I may ask," he said, pausing long enough to drop his voice to a whisper, "You are Seelie, da?" Regardless, he knew that if he pissed off any Sidhe, he was doomed, but maybe if he was lucky... Roisin would be the kind that would take more to piss off in case he did anything on accident. He liked living.

"And proud of it!" she said, meaning every word of it and nowhere near as quiet as Ivan. "My Court was in a very lovely wood. I used to love all of the trees there." Her voice trailed off as the memories crept back in. She had loved those woods once, but then the humans tried to hunt her, her! A member of the Fair Folk!

Those memories hurt. They made her leave. So she took a deep breath and let them drift away.

She returned to the Now.

As Ivan added those last pieces, he watched her face change from attentive to something... else. It was almost like she'd gone off somewhere else in her head, or at least that was what it seemed like. "Ms. Gallagher?" he asked softly, a little concerned. The bodark began to look worried, unnerved... He felt like maybe he'd brought up a touchy subject for her.

However, she seemed to come back around in another moment. He was probably treading on dangerous territory now, but he had to ask. "One more question, I am afraid... on this topic, at least," he said, purposely sounding very cautious, "Are Sidhe born into Seelie and Unseelie, or do they choose?" He cringed, bracing himself for any potential backlash.

Roisin hadn't heard Ivan calling her, but he had her attention now. She listened attentively to his last question and was honestly a little surprised. She blinked a few times, opened her mouth, closed it again, thought some more, made a face, and then finally answered. "You know, I'm not really sure," she said, honestly confused. "I've never heard of anyone switching Courts, but I don't think we're born, we just... are," she admitted.

"I can't remember ever seeing a Sidhe child, only half-children." Her eyebrows drew together. It was honestly somewhat unsettling to think about. "But I know some are brothers and sisters..." It only got more confusing. "I never even noticed before." Were they dreamed into existence?

Well, that was interesting. Ivan added all of it to his notes. This was one of those odd things where not even members of the species know much about it, wasn't it? Kind of like how he had no idea whether or not bodarki could even breed... not that he really wanted to find out anyway. Regardless, it was all recorded on his tablet of paper. He flipped a page, having reached the bottom of the sheet.

"How strange..." the bookkeeper said quietly, thinking of some other topic he could ask about regarding the Sidhe. "Are... Sidhe immortal?"

"It is, I guess... But maybe it's everyone else who is strange?" Rosy challenged. After all, strange or not, she had to stand up for her species!

She took the opportunity to pour a drink for one of her other customers while Ivan got to a clean page. There was no excuse for being a poor host, even if it was for interesting conversation. As soon as she had sent the ghoulish creature off with his drink, she turned her attention back to the bodark.

"We can be," she said slowly, again having to take care choosing words accurately, "but not always. Age and the illnesses of the mortal world cannot touch us, but if we are killed we will die." She nodded to herself, agreeing that that was well said. "It is no easy feet, I assure you," she said, leaning forward.

Ivan nodded as he let the words mar the fresh paper. He shrugged, "I guess 'strange' is relative to everyone~' He hadn't meant anything by it other than it was strange in his experience. Maybe she was right though, and everyone who reproduced sexually was odd as far as the vast multiverse was concerned. That could very well be; no one knew any better than anyone else.

"I see," he said, noting down the near-immortality. Bodarki had some similarities, other than they would eventually die once they reached about two centuries. They did live far longer than the average person, but they would eventually die. However, they could only be killed per se in one specific way. "I am... similar in sense... Only one way to killed, but another to die..." It was different to die and to be killed, very, very different.

Roisin watched Ivan with interest. "Really?" she asked. It was so interesting that the longer she stayed here, the more different creatures she met. Yet, somehow the more similarities she saw between them. No matter how dissimilar they all seemed, there seemed to be threads that ran through them all, binding them together.

"If I may ask, what is your kind? I don't believe I fund out before," she asked.

With a nod, Ivan smiled. "Da, very specific manner of murder," he said. No, he wasn't going to tell her how, but it was not like it was that hard to figure out. Just cut off his head and when he doesn't get up, that means he's died. It was simple, not that he wanted anyone to attempt it. He rather liked being alive, even if Ruslan was his only constant companion... and incredibly disturbing.

"I am bodark," he said, sitting up straight with a look of pride. "More than one is 'bodarki'. I am like werewolf... but not werewolf~" Ivan felt like he was glowing with pride as he sat there with a hand over his heart, smiling gently at his friend. No one ever really bothered to ask about what kind of being he was. Arthur knew, of course, they'd known each other for a good amount of time, but it was not like anyone even really knew what "bodark" meant beyond "some kind of Russian werewolf."

He was not really a werewolf... He was something more malevolent by nature, something that by his lifespan's end would have corrupted him completely. He tried hard to remain himself... the loving, joyous spirit he was before he inadvertently brought this curse upon himself. This was a punishment from demons who preyed on the naive. Ivan was not proud of his curse, but he was proud that someone cared enough to ask. In a hundred years, he'd be hardly recognizable as the gentle bookkeeper...

"It... would really matter to you?" he asked, looking rather bashful. "Everyone else just call me 'werewolf' and leaves it at that... Is not true... They are wrong."

Rosy nodded as he spoke, not expecting him to reveal the method for ending his life, after all, she wasn't intending to reveal her mortal foils either. It was something she felt was a mutual understanding.

She rested her head on her hands, looking at Ivan the way a small child would look at their favorite story teller. "Fascinating," she murmured. Her curiosity was piqued. It wasn't everyday she learned something new anymore. She soaked up his information like a sponge.

At the end of his explanation she blinked. "But, you are not a werewolf," she thought out loud, "Just like I am not Unseelie. Similar yes, the same no."

More liquor from her flask was consumed as she settled her thoughts with herself. "I'm glad to meet my first bodark," she said with a smile.

Ivan tried not to laugh too loudly. That would have been rather rude. He did smile back at Roisin though, glad that they understood each other. He made a few more notes on his tablet. "Da, just like... that~" he said, voice soft as he leaned more over the counter. "We are more alike then I before had thought~"

He leaned back once more and twiddled the pen between his fingers, thinking of what else he could or should ask. He had some basic information and beyond what he'd asked, he was probably pushing it. "I think... da, that I have all I need for now, Ms. Gallagher~" The bodark grinned, quickly flipping the pages of his tablet back to being flat and tucking the pen away so it wouldn't get lost or go flying.

There was a groan in the bar stool as the heavy bodark stretched back to pop his spine a bit before sitting properly again. Ivan rapped his nails against the counter before repeating himself. "Da, that should be it~ Spasibo, ochen priyatno, was all very useful~"

"Isn't it grand, learning things like that?" Rosy replied warmly. She felt a sense of satisfaction knowing that she had been useful. She let the pride shine through her, looking pleased as punch. "Glad I could be of service," she replied honestly.

"Is there anything else I can get ya?" Roisin asked, indicating the spread of alcoholic beverages behind her. "You've already payed enough for a round or two."

Ivan blinked a bit in confusion as he looked the drinks. He'd... paid? "I have... paid?" he asked, looking terribly confused. He honestly did not recall giving her money for any service today, but he supposed maybe she knew something he didn't. Every now and then he did get somewhat scatterbrained. It was probably because he'd hadn't had eaten anything yet that day... and putting alcohol on an empty stomach was brilliant.

"I guess, da," he said, putting his hand to his chin in thought as he pondered his options. "I will have that vodka... there..." The bodark extended his arm and pointed at one of the bottles of clear liquid that was labeled in Cyrillic. That particular kind had always been rather nice.

Roisin turned and grabbed the bottle in one smooth motion, pouring it into a glass without missing a beat. As the clear liquor filled the glass she smiled. "Well of course you did," she said as if there couldn't be any doubt. Once it was filled, she slid the glass over to him. "That was one of the best conversations I've had in a while."

She lifted his flask towards her and took a drink.

Ivan smiled warmly, catching the glass in his hand before it could slide off the edge of the counter. Well, if that was currency for her, he would have to stop in more often. It was probably help him with his conversational skills, anyway. Speaking with people without some sort of directive was somewhat difficult at times.

"Spasibo~" he said, sipping from the glass. It was indeed good vodka. It burned his throat on the way down just like it was supposed to. He didn't wince, having grown used to that delightful burn over the years. The liquor in this establishment certainly did not disappoint.