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Lyrics can be found here.
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Needless to say, he was smashed beyond smashing normally went. The reason? Well, there really wasn't one. He enjoyed the feeling, he'd found alcohol somewhere, and decided to try how strong Canadian beverages could be, having been under the impression that Russian alcohol was the strongest type. In the end, Nikolai had decided that the drink he'd found was absolutely vile in taste, but apparently strong in nature nonetheless. He'd dropped his map somewhere, and he could hardly think straight enough to even recall it in his mind. Colors were flashing before his twisting and turning duel-colored eyes, and a goofy grin adorned his handsome, youthful face. Hardly a year old, and smashed beyond reason.
He was singing musically in a drunken slur, waving the nearly empty bottle of swill in the air and enjoying the sound of his voice echoing off the cement walls of the once majestic Sheraton's parking garage. The song was some sort of Russian drinking song, alive in his drunken enthusiasm as it was sung in its home language:
"Oy, moroz, moroz
Ni moroz menya
Ni moroz menya
Moyevo konya!
Ni moroz menya
Moyevo konya
Moyevo konya
Beeeeelogrevogo!!"
He bellowed, suddenly bursting into an overenthusiastic, hearty laughter. He fell backwards in his outrageous, open-mouthed chuckling, bumping into the wall behind him (which only resulted in harder laughter). He didn't know how he'd ended up there, in a deserted parking garage somewhere in the middle of nowhere--presumably just exploring as always, but that was up in the air, as he was completely smashed. For now, he tried to continue the Russian lyrics--they were something about a horse and frost, but what did that matter to a drunk?--but laughed the entire way through, not to mention random interruptions of excited Russian dialogue to himself and swills of the alcohol. He always claimed he was independent, and... well, he sure was having a lot of fun as a drunk by himself, anyway.
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[html]  I suck, forgive me?
Another strange night found her in the bottom of the bottle. She sighed, breathing in the fragrant scent of the wine she had found in the stores of Haven Mansion. The bottle had been dusty, but that hadn't affected the dark liquid within. She really didn't know why he had sought liquid comfort - it certainly didn't provide her courage. In fact, she was hiding behind the bottle at best.
Her last brush with alcohol had been horrendous She pushed those memories firmly away as she stumbled about the parking garage. Her hiccups echoed against the walls, multiplying the sound as she whipped her head around, trying to find the source of the repeated sound. She hiccuped loudly in frustration, stumbling a bit as she leaned against a wall.
The details on how she had gotten to this place were fuzzy in her head. She had wanted to avoid Crimson Dreams for the time being. She felt as though if she saw Savina again, she'd spill her guts. She was avoiding Anu and Naniko for the same reasons, although many more emotions were involved. She felt morose.
She heard strains of song echoing along the walls, almost in synch with her hiccups. Swaying slightly, she followed the sound until she came upon a lone male. She leaned against a wall and watched him for a minute before stumbling in his direction. "That's a pretty song," her words were slurred slightly. "What language is that?"
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He had been quite enjoying himself, despite his lonesome in the strangest of places. Even in his drunkenness, he hadn't expected another soul to show its face in the place he was in, wherever that was. He was grinning and snickering to himself wildly when she came into view, at which point his grin faded away to an open-mouthed, drunken stare, eyelids half open and duel-colored eyes certainly glazed over. She said something to him that didn't quite click in his head immediately, as he only vaguely realized she was out of her mind as much as he was, which automatically put her as a welcome comrade in his book. His open-mouthed gape remained, though, even after she finished speaking.
"Боже мой!" He exclaimed, throwing his arms up into the air and a small, slurred smile crept onto his nearly awestruck face. "You are bootiful," he gasped, dropping his bottle on the floor quickly and scrambling to his feet, at which point he snatched her hand from her side (actually, lack of depth perception made him reach for it a few times, and only succeeded in grabbing it some time later) and he kissed the top of it, pressing the cold piercing at his lip against her fur. "I speek Русский, Русский, Rrrrussian," he slurred, grinning stupidly up at her. "Iiiii... Nikolai," stuttered the male, struggling to remember his English in his drunken stupidity.
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Geneva tried to wrap her mind around the words that came from the male's mouth. But she had to settle for the fact that she honestly had no idea what he was saying. Even sober, her formidable mind would have trouble processing the harshly beautiful Russian language. For now all she could do was enjoy the rare treat of hearing a foreign tongue. A laugh rumbled in her throat, but she clamped her teeth shut around it. A hiccup warped the sound as the stranger jumped up from his prone position. This startled her a little and she stumbled backward a step before righting herself. It seemed more effort than it was worth as she swayed on the spot, thinking there should be music playing for the way the walls swam in her vision from time to time.
Her smile nearly split her face as he kissed her hand, feeling the coolness of her piercing there. How odd! Even smashed, curiosity was one of her prime motivations. She had never seen a piercing before. She turned her hand palm up and curled her fingers under, moving her hand to cup his chin. She looked into his eyes, her own lime green ones crossing for a moment as she tried to focus on his face. "No, yoush, my kind s-sir, is beautiful in the eyes!" She looked into his different colored eyes. How curious! They certainly were beautiful and strange.
The glint of his lipring caught her attention one more time. She looked down and focused on his mouth. Without thinking of personal boundaries, she ran one finger gently over his piercing. "Is that cold, Nikolai?" she breathed softly, a soft tremor in her voice as she tried to focus. Her alcohol addled mind caught up with the conversation and she remembered to introduce herself. "My name's Geneva," she said, absent mindedly tracing over his lipring again.
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Perhaps it had been the drunken stupor he'd fallen into, perhaps not, but in his duel-colored eyes she was the most beautiful thing he'd ever seen. Nikolai wanted to sweep her off her feet and to somewhere else a little more private, but of course, that was not his heart nor brain talking. She was a quirkly little creature, gray and white in color with eyes of a peculiar olive hue; it was obvious that she was swayed by his accent and dialect, and the concept of this sparked some immediate interest and plotting within his clever, drunken mind. She looked straight into his eyes all of a sudden and he was suddenly pulled off his feet in hers, like some sort of alcoholic love story that was quite possibly one-sided and most likely short-lived. The Russian grinned stupidly. "Bah, two colorrrs," he muttered, tongue lolling out of his mouth this way and that. "Eyes... оливкового. Booteefooool..." He broke into an erratic laughter, and took the hand he was still grasping and spun her around in a little circle like some sort of elegant [drunken] gentleman.
"Not cold," he replied, still grinning like an [intoxicated] five-year-old. He quite enjoyed that lip ring of his, and could commonly be found playing around with it with his tongue when he was especially bored. Her voice tremored a little and he wondered if she was cold--it was too bad he didn't exactly wear a coat. Cold weather was no stranger to Nikolai, and no threat, either. "Like ringk. I givf you one, if vant? I yahm very good at piercingks." She introduced herself and he smiled, taking her hand and spinning her around again, though this time spinning her into him and grinning stupidly down at her. "Geneva... you are luffly, Gennnneva."
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[html] http://i76.photobucket.com/albums/j40/k ... ump/12.png); background-position: top center; background-repeat: no-repeat;"> Geneva felt laughter bubbling up then overflowing from her throat as he spun her about. The word was all soft edges, white framed to begin with. Him twirling her made it sway gently like water, then spin for a minute before she regained control of her vision. The effect made her eyes cross slightly and she had to blink several times to make the world look somewhat right again. But by the time the world stopped looking like it was immersed in gently swaying water, she was looking at Nikolai again and she couldn't be bothered about her vision problems. The scenery was quite lovely anyway.
She found herself leaning toward him, then settling her hands on his shoulders to regain her balance. She felt a little embarrassed, but didn't care. It didn't make sense to keep personal distance from Nikolai. He was so nice! She was certain he wouldn't mind if she leaned on him just a little bit.
Her eyes dropped back down to Nikolai's lip ring at his offer. Her brows furrowed slightly, her nose wrinkling as she considered it. She liked the way it glinted in the low light, and it really seemed to fit his face. She couldn't find a single thing she didn't like about it. "I-I think that I will take yoush up on that, Nikolai," she said with genuine pleasure. She couldn't believe how wonderful he was!
"No, no! she said, shaking her head, which made her dizzier. Her hands fluttered on his shoulders. "You-you! You are lovely - s-so lovely!" She smiled at him. "I want to do something for you too--" she stopped and thought for a moment. "What could I do for you?"
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Goodness, was she beautiful! At this point, Nikolai was well aware of how intoxicated he was, but not nearly how obnoxious or off par he was being or had to potential to reach. He was not a completely unpredictable drunk; the Russian did a lot of singing and making obnoxious offers, but as he had never really been interested in sex or had some sort of mad sex drive, that usually didn't fall into question. No, he was some sort of artist, like a rebellious hippie back from the past with something new driving within his chest instead of bright colors and flowers. He did drink as badly as them, though. Nikolai loved his wine.
"Ya, you seeeeeng," he gurgled, grinning stupidly and letting her go. She was like a bird, in his eyes--something he couldn't hold onto, but he could capture her a short while and set her free. Everything became a little more artistic when he was smashed, somehow. It was like his inner conscience was flooding over with pastels and paints just ready for the spreading and creating. "Seeng; I vant to hear voice," he smiled, duel-colored eyes pleading with her. He decided she must've had a beautiful singing voice, since she seemed so inevitably gorgeous in his miscolored eyes.
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[html] http://i76.photobucket.com/albums/j40/k ... ump/12.png); background-position: top center; background-repeat: no-repeat;"> She let her arms spread from her body a little after Nikolai let her go. It was difficult to go from one position to the next. She had to adjust her balance when his anchoring weight was gone, and she could no longer lean on him. She smiled as the world evened out and she found she could stand on her own again. She could still feel the warmth from where they had touched. Now she marveled at the fact that together, the world didn't seem so foreign, cold, and dead. Two souls certainly could generate a light that the vastest darkness could not conquer. She liked to think so, anyway.
Lime green eyes slid to the ground self-consciously as he asked her to sing. Geneva was quiet by nature, preferring to fade into the background. She hardly ever lifted her voice beyond a hushed tone, much less lifting it in song. In her moment of embarrassment, she recalled the hours she had spent in the library with Jazper. He had showed her how he had restored his piano, and how much he loved music. It had seemed to flow through him like an invisible current of wind, lifting him.
And she remembered giving him her father's harmonic. That brought her even farther back farther, to the days when she had been to walk outside. And her father would play on that harmonic for hours as she mouthed the words under her breath. Looking into Nikolai's mismatched eyes, she finished her struggle. Perhaps if she could hold on to that memory, she could find her voice and bring it out of hiding.
The words came slowly at first, building to a soft lullaby in her hushed tone. Her voice was soft, a hushed soprano in the echoing garage. She didn't know where the words came from, but they filled her and flooded through like nothing else as her mind raced to picture the memory she had been running from all along.
"We spent some time together walking,
spent some time just talking about who we were.
You held my hand so very tightly
and told me what we could be
dreaming of.
There's nothing like you and I, nothing like you and I.
There's nothing like you and I."
She took a deep breath, searching Nikolai's face before she continued. This was hard for her, even with the alcohol in her veins to loosen her up. She felt as though she was trying to hold something inside, an internal explosion waiting to massacre the rest of the world. As the words spilled from her mouth, she felt the fire licking at her insides, twisting in black smoky tendrils around her heart.
"We spent some time together drinking,
spent some time just thinking
'bout days of joy.
As our hearts started beating faster,
I recalled your laughter
from long ago.
There's nothing like you and I.
Nothing like you and I.
We spent some time together crying
spent some time just trying
to let each other go.
I held your hand so very tightly
and told you what I would be
dreaming of.
There nothing like you and I.
So why do I even try?
There's nothing like you and I."
The last note cracked at the end, her voice trembling as she completed her song. She didn't know what to think, or what Nikolai would think. But she found herself caring very much as she fought to keep from looking away. Her hands were shaking slightly.
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