[tekken] vermillion ~ sergei / nina
Title: Vermilion
Fandom: Tekken
Pairing: Sergei / Nina
Genre: Drama , Introspective, Erotic
Raiting: Orange
Word count: 3400
Link: EFP
Notes: A friend:)
Synopsis: Nina and Sergei a convention on arms in Las Vegas ... (Set after the Tekken 5 DR)
The meeting is one of those bunnies are typical of local Las Vegas. Her hair is fluffy and oxygenated, blue eye shadow and lipstick on a scarlet. It 's the beauty of American exasperation poor, he reflected, but as humorous and thought that her face does not suggest any fun, nor any other emotion. He sees her give him a business card of a car dealership in Carson City, while smiling and mechanically explains all the benefits that a person may be shopping for a company. He is not interested even the little they understand, but the nods and puts the business card in his pocket. After reaching the hall, threw it into a trash can.
Tropicana hotel and casino is going to be a conference, one of those secret enough that it should be set up in plain sight not to arouse the attention of the public eye, including tails, fish and slot machines. Each year, attended by representatives of the largest military in the world to discuss their new inventions. They update and at the same time keep away, as a kind of declaration of peace enforced, where everything is said and therefore each faction is forced to confront not, because any new weapon has been tested by enemy before the battle. It 'a common disadvantage. The Russian
Cherstvennikov knows why more smiles to the representatives of other companies to his own countrymen. It 's the head of Specnaz, wearing gaudy clothes foreigners, but here in Las Vegas, including bunnies, dwarfs and beggars and eccentric Texan farmers, no one notices. At his side there is the man who had received the business card of the car dealership, his partner, General Sergei Dragunov. He does not smile at anyone, or to nationals or foreigners.
They show the card to the guard posted outside the hall of the conference, after giving us an eye tells them to get dry with a nod of the head.
The conference is about to begin, he expects only the arrival of the last guests. Some people are still standing chatting in groups of three or four. Cherstvennikov shake hands with a tall blond man - perhaps French, German, perhaps - and says something in English a bit 'broken, the language of all. Sergei bows to the unknown in great ceremony. It is not a kindness or a favor owed, is just the fulfillment of a strictly military code.
He straightened his back and throws therefore look beyond the tall blond man's shoulder, the front door semi-open. There is a woman, he sees it in perspective. E 'in front of a mirror in gold leaf hanging above an antique chest of drawers that he takes off his sunglasses, it dissolves the hair and restart lisciandoseli with your hands. As he notes, it extends the tip of the lower lip vermilion lipstick, if it distributes pressing her lips together, rummaging through pockets looking for something and cracked a corner of his mouth.
Nina is late and has no time to change, so they arrange with what has been put on lipstick but does not have a clean handkerchief with which the excess spread on the inside of the lips. Your eye on a stack of business cards on the chest of drawers of the usual car dealership in Carson City, takes one, the one above all, and hugs from his lips. Imprint remains bright red, is fleeting, to resemble a kiss in passing. Join
salon, blond hair that sway with every step, the corduroy trousers blacks who adhere to its svelte legs. He sits at a table any, that is the first free, crumpled business card and leaves it on the wooden floor.
poaching its heels is the last thing I heard Sergei before Congress begins.
the break, approaches her. Nina is alone in front of the buffet, have a glass of scotch in one hand, the other under his arm close opposite the height of the ribs. It keeps your back straight and eyes on a picture hanging over the long table. It 's a faithful reproduction of The Rape of the Sabine David. The Sabine almost risk their lives to stop the battle between the Romans and their compatriots. It 'a painting a pacifist, but Congress is discussing weapons genocide. E 'out of place. His lips twist in a gesture of dissent, their crisp red vermillion shines even more.
Sergei is now a step away from Nina, who recognizes him and turns away. Her lips, now have become a precise, thin straight line.
"I know you," says Sergei, and is a conclusive finding, not a question. She team for a while '. This is not a target of a mission, he is still alive, thinks to himself, then it must have been a customer. Beyond that, excluding old friends and family, for her there are other ways of knowing someone. Then one comes to mind him.
"Have you participated in the Tekken tournament," Nina concludes, and this statement is true. The seem to remember, now, her face marked by war, with the irises that look dull that shine with a bright blue inconsistent. It looks like one of those dolls expressionless with eyes made of glass, iridescent hues.
"I Sergei Dragunov," presents him, quick, monotonous, as when the soldiers respond to the call of a superior from the heels of his boots.
"Nina Williams," she says, and holding out his hand. The man grabs, no heat is close to a black glove.
"So work with the Japanese," Sergei begins after a while '. He has the voice guttural, hoarse. The vocals are tight, the cadence is Russian.
"Not much," Nina tells him only. It is not of his earlier work that she does speak, nor of his work in general. But, perhaps, the man has already guessed what his real profession. We recognize the skin, people like them. Sergei
slight nods his head, takes a glass of whiskey, takes him disfigured by a scar on the lip.
"It 's the first time I see a Japanese natural blonde," he says, and makes you smile. It was a joke unusual, with an accent that was austere and not at all amused.
"It 's the first time I see a Russian drink an alcoholic beverage import American," Nina responds with complicity.
A corner of the lips of Sergei just ripples. The woman thinks maybe that's his way of smiling.
's midnight when the conference ends. At that time the casinos are filling more people. There is more noise, the accompanying music that crosses the salt has become a barely audible murmur. Everything is chaotic, loud. Nina holds her ears, distinguishes the laughter of some acute bunnies and clatter of glasses that clash when the waiters are placing them on trays. Nina Jin
is behind and next to Eddy, the three back together by the conference. Suddenly the Japanese freezes.
"We share here, I have some things to do," says remaining shot from behind. It 's like a strict orders, he is the head, now, it is natural that no one is against, even if he happens to externalize considerations on normal and questionable. Just see it go away without another word, Eddy shrugs and smiles arrogant.
"I thought," says the blonde colleague. She did not answer.
"Incidentally, I also have some things to do," said Eddy again after having spotted a slots unused. Nina greets with a sweeping gesture and hand speed and is the space between the crowd.
E 'alone again. A waiter hands her the tray and offers her a drink. Nina takes the first glass that is at hand without looking at what's inside. It keeps with the stem between the middle is the ring finger, fingers, covering almost the entire rim points. It has a fine hand. The other is again close under the opposite arm, at the height of the ribs. His gaze travels
vague on all the walls of the wide hall, then focuses on the roulette dealer near you. There an old man chewing tobacco, is betting on red 14. Behind him a look of ice along its own trajectory, but the direction is reversed.
Sergei is watching, again, with his bright eyes and blue under the heavy eyelids. As if from nowhere, for no apparent logical connection, Nina recalls the last moments of life of some of his old victims. E 'in death that life shines more between breaths and suffered a heart that beats dying struggles until exhausted. And 'the natural instinct of survival, which is also evident when fate is obvious, and an epilogue, the same for all, from which one can not escape. At that
Russian general, in his eyes alive and dead at the same time, there is a dichotomy of natural and unusual ones like Nina has found in its missions. The woman is attracted.
chooses the best route to take him by surprise and not be noticed. With a long ride comes to him behind his back and put your half-empty glass on the table beside him, causing a slight sound that draws his attention. Sergei makes a nod to say hello.
"It 's the first year that I come to this conference," she says Nina, discursively.
"How is?" Application with the Russian monotone.
"lengthy and incomplete." Sergei
slightly arched eyebrows purposes, already raised plenty of them in a perpetual attitude of arrogance and conceit. It is not deliberate, it's his face, his features. "Why?"
"The companies were talking about costs, machinery, function tests and range, but have deliberately avoided the topic victims. I do not understand because it is seen that the purpose of weapons in any situation and context, is to kill. He wanted to think it was a matter of convenience. It seemed hypocritical. "Sergei
stares, a rigorous eye, perhaps better to ponder on that phrase. He never speaks, but has a kind of shamelessness that is not derived from the use of words, nor by an attitude of enforcement or emphasis. It 's that explicitly look in depth without any regard.
"I do not think Americans have built nuclear-powered ships for some Atlantic salmon fishing, "says Nina, and a corner of the lips of Sergei ripples.
"E 'conference was a lengthy and incomplete," agrees Russian.
"hypocritical," she reiterates. Sergei
Admire the fair, they examine every single portion. "In this wall there are twenty-five columns," he reports. "At the height of the first column, from this wall, there are approximately thirty people. If you multiply the columns will have a rough estimate of seven hundred and fifty people total. The hall will be two hundred meters long and one hundred feet wide, and twenty thousand square meters. The Japanese company where he works said to have fighter aircraft with a range of ventimilacinquecento square meters. If a fighter plane bombed the Mishima Zaibatsu this casino, could kill more than eight hundred people. "
Nina's body look smug and says
" At least you have been more expeditious and robust talkative the conference. "
" and less hypocritical, "he insists.
She smiles a smile of amusement and then prying. "E you how many people you killed? "
It 's a awkward question that no one had ever done before, but Sergei appears unfazed. The answer, simply:
"Thirty-four, but I stopped counting at the beginning of the war."
The man is silent now, and Nina as the fixed stare from afar, with its probes into deep analytical eye on the general. The ease in which she showed to ask him that question and the fact that he had not yet revealed his real work took him to one conclusion.
"You many have you killed instead?" Asked Sergei.
Nina is almost surprised by his his sagacity and boldness. "Twenty-six," he says, lightly, just as it did to him, "what I remember," then adds a whisper to herself as she brings the glass to his mouth.
"Life is a whole number," the man believes. "For example, on the gravestones is reported throughout the life of a deceased person with only two numbers, and dates of birth and death engraved on it."
"They carved his name and last name," retorts Nina, "but it is also true that in identity documents and files in Population Names are a string of digits. "
" What is your sequence of numbers? "Sergei question.
"I've had several, I have had various names."
"And that's killer?" Nina
arched an eyebrow to do with a cavalier fashion. "My recognition code does not tell anybody, let alone a possible future enemy. We are still a Russian and a Japanese, even if natural blonde. "
" So can you tell me what is the sequence of digits in the hotel room where you stay, "the Russian decrees.
Nina pulls a smile this time is only provocative and replied "two seven nine", and there is more to say, so he brings the cup to his mouth to the last drop and leave it on the table before leaving.
Sergei feels trapestio its heels as they mingle with the sounds of the casino. A song by Nat King Cole Quizas Quizas Quizas, resonates in all rooms. The red bench Stangoni blackjack screaming happy for a win. A guard has been delivering high and robust force a rowdy drunk outside the building. Rim points on the glass left on the table, Sergei sees the mark a bit 'faded two red lips.
two in the morning he is in front of room 729. Is about to knock, but the woman from behind closed doors, before the action and open. Tricks of the Trade: late at night, during sleep, can hear the footsteps running along the corridor, and knows when to stop in front of his door. It 'had to learn to predict the ambushes of the enemy, had to survive this way, between sleeping and waking, and is so used to this behavior has an impact on his private life, one that has nothing to do do with his work.
Then she recognized the measured tread of the Russian General of the conference, she got out of bed, has slipped into her robe and quickly opened the door. Sergei ago quell'usuale nodded in greeting, then enters, accompanied by the gesture of the woman.
Nina closes the door, Sergei approaching a chair, takes off his gloves and places them on the back. He turns and sees her again at the door, dimly lit by colored lights of the city, American folklore. When she reaches him, Sergei surrounds the neck with his hand lightly. It seems a gesture of peaceful loving man and at the same time an act of murder, strangulation well hidden in a studied calm.
The robe was closed with a knot decided, but generous glimpse of an opening under the neck of the blonde. The slope of the sinuses of Nina is sweet, reminiscent of the snowy hills of Russia. Sergei lowers her hand, sliding on the woman's chest, over the silk of her gown, then stops at the node. Think back to the Russian
nights spent in cold and white snow, country houses in remote and without names. There are women dressed from top to bottom, with many layers of clothing on top of each other, wrapped up as Cossacks, all a bit 'thin, pale and slender. Sergei remembers the winter clothes crammed into a single point of the room, the slowness of the women in the strip and get stripped off. Remember sex is a bit 'cold and suffered. He is so natural, on this occasion, reflect on how little ironically, a movement of the wrist just mentioned to undo the knot, and slips off her robe almost alone.
Now Nina is to strip the man. He does it almost with detachment, as if he were undressing herself.
When Sergei is naked, with his arm around his back and approached him. Her hand clutching a piece of skin without hurting her. It 's his way to act out his desire. Nina kisses the upper lip, on the point crossed by the scar, and the Russian parts. Her kiss, though, is more impetuous, down the neck and left shoulder. It
carrying each other on the bed, twisting, him forward, her back. Nina is lying on the mattress now. Spread your legs, and Sergei settles over her. With the woman under him, he realizes that you are still make-up, that her red lips are still there waiting for him.
And while, again, kissed her mouth, enters into her. The pressures are rhythmic, slow, speed as you. The man is wearing the face over the groove of the neck of the woman, and she, in a fit of unbridled passion, the wraps her shoulders with his arm, his sighs are agitated, sometimes a few groans from his mouth. That 's what were seeking, the most ancient and primitive rite of the world, the only acknowledge that they know that makes them feel human again.
When Sergei is in her, then emits a hoarse rattle.
He stands with the bust, Nina closes her legs. E 'standing, out of bed, and look for clothes that do not remember where he put it. Walk with confidence in their nakedness, as if dressed or undressed for her did not make a difference remains the same woman who is a bit 'and a little ice age' unfriendly.
Sergei is already dressed in tuxedo shirt only has not fully buttoned, shoes untied and gloves on the back of the chair. He gets to pick them up, approaches the door and opens it.
"Maybe we'll meet again the next conference, "he says.
The door closes and everything is as before.
That Their second meeting is a bit 'too soon and unexpectedly. It is even wrong. E 'to this that you can think, despite everything, the dark ruins of an old country, including the bombing of the fighter planes of the Mishima Zaibatsu raining from the sky and a deep wound in the shoulder, which makes trudge. Keeps close with his left hand while his right grabs the Berretta 92.
In those few seconds that the planes stop bombing, Nina felt the footsteps of his enemy behind his back. He turns quickly and fires hitting the Russian general in the leg, causing him to fall near a wall run-down of an abandoned building. The pistol falls with him, a yard and a half away.
When the Russian attempt to recover the weapon, the woman's tip his cap to urge him to stop. He stops, stands still. Do not even attempt to do anything else, because he knows there is no escape, but its epilogue is here.
AND 'the opportunity, the perfect moment, the barrel of the Berretta is pointing straight at his heart, but for the first time in her life Nina hesitates. Sergei notices it and takes the opportunity to recover the gun. It 's fast, but not enough. The natural instinct for survival overwhelms Nina, who shoots him in cold blood to the heart.
The angle of the lips of the Russian ripples, and not just a grimace of pain, but also a smile a bit 'longer than usual. On his last breath he collapsed to the ground, takes off his uniform pocket and a crumpled business card. That 's what the car dealership in Carson City, we are still impressed two lips. Their bright red is mixed with the blood all around.
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