Want to be God, the Devil, like me?
If ya don’t wanta share your stuff, then just say so. the woman spoke to him. Left ear was pinned back, the other on his company. Steel eyes were watching her with pinpoints at pupils because of the brightness of the day that was before the two. Mars lifted his hand over his mouth as he let out a yawn of sorts. Or, you could have some manners and not touch what is not yours, or at least asked before you reached out to touch. the male pointed out as a matter of factly. His voice was still level and still calm, cold. There wasn't the intention to be cold behind his voice, it was just natural for him. A lot of bad habits were natural for Mars, as were they for Bart. Them both having little tics that made them completely different.
Russo! the woman had excitedly yelled out. It made Mars flinch back a bit, but he listened on to say the least. Oh! You are a new member of Cour des Miracles! We have Russo’s here! I mean, I’m sure you knew that. Are you looking for them? I’ve met Liliya and Rurik. I like them. Rurik gave me a fire drink once she was excited, and he wasn't. He almost inched away from the woman, not wanting her to be so close, but against all instinct, he sat there as still as he could be, his pinpoint pupils locked on the woman and her movements still. He wouldn't chance anything. She seemed nice and all, but everyone held a mask that they had on in front of people. Even Mars had a mask of sorts, and so did Bart. You never knew the intentions of another unless you lived with them and shared everything with them. It burned for days! the woman went on. Mars stayed silent, Bart looked over at the only one who could see him. You going to be able to handle her, Mars? You don't look so good so far. Bart asked, steel eyes meeting the other's same hued orbs. Mars shook his head and pulled out the cigarette carton that was in his jacket pocket. He opened it put a butt into his lips, pulled it from the case, closed it and then returned it to his pocket. He proceeded to take out a lighter and to light the end of the cancer stick before he inhaled off of the end of it and took it from his mouth to speak to the woman. Eet ees called vodka. the American spoke, imitating a Russian accent. He had heard it from his half brother, Anatoliy, and he also figured his father would have that same accent because of their nationality. He, himself had no accent other than the one you found to be American. Bart, too had an american accent when he decided not to play games with the minds of people and actually speak correctly. His tone still was the same, unchanging from the calm, cold tone that he used. The fire water, I mean. the male spoke, taking another drag off of his cigarette. This little stick was the only thing that was keeping him from flipping out on the girl. It was keeping him from getting stressed out. New people stressed Mars out some.
You didn’t answer my question. You were too busy snarling at me, What is that? he could hear the playfulness of her voice, but was completely serious the whole time, a smile not daring to crack on his face. It's a guitar. Cousin to the violin, lute, harp, etc. I'm guessing since you don't know what it is, that you've never had too much an interest in music. he spoke, cocking his brow at the woman. Or do you? What did you say your name was again? Mars couldn't remember if she had said her name or not, and wanted to make sure that he didn't miss anything.
Mars talks Bartholomew talks