Having received a call from Sidor for another evening of conversation a few days before, Ariana was on her way to the directions he gave. He was at the Ridge Motel tonight and she was to meet him in the lobby. She thought it was slightly peculiar at first, but considering his temporary exile, it made some sense. She was still a little apprehensive of the situation, not because of Sidor’s curse but of the past.
In black slacks, a deep purple blouse and black blazer, Ariana entered the lobby which was run down and not the greatest of appearances. She did not stray far from the door while she waited in case a clerk ever came to the front desk.
Sidor had a little freedom of movement in the motel, as long as he didn't bother the clients. Considering that he was a guest, he'd mostly spent his time in the Ridge quietly reading through his Testament, looking for an answer that wasn't coming easily. But he hoped it would come soon. At the very least, he was pleased to regard that his will was still strong. The Beast thirsted madly, but he was commanding it, not the other way around. Despite that, he did seem a little more drawn and his skin was sitting more tightly on his bones than usual. No amount of will could remove the physical changes caused by hunger.
He spotted Ariana entering and loitering near the door in the mostly deserted lobby and stepped away from his spot against the wall. He was stood in the shadows, as he normally did when near any sort of kine, even if the ones here belonged quite firmly to Anton.
"Dobryj vecher, Miss Donovan," the Russian Haunt said, his accented voice sounding quite sharp in the empty room. "I trust you found the place without a problem?"
Ariana smiled with a slight inquiry at the Russian greeting. She had grown accustomed to his accent, but her familiarity with the language was not that great. "Good evening Mr. Grigoriev. Your instructions were very succinct, thank you." She smiled kindly. "How have you been?" She did not want to ask any questions in the lobby that would cause any concern.
"Good evening," Sidor translated offhand. "Less formal than zdravstvuyte, more so than privyet." He gestured towards the staircase behind him. "I have been as well as can be expected, given the circumstances. We should probably head upstairs; I prefer not to loiter in the corridors. It disturbs the clientele." He said this in a tone of voice that implied that wasn't entirely unamusing to him, but it clearly wasn't something he was going to encourage. "My room is quite private; we would not be overheard."
Moving to follow Sidor up the staircase, she nodded her head. I am sure if there were some people in the lobby, they would probably have some interesting ideas. "Yes, that is probably a good idea." She looked around a little as they walked. "The Russian language seems a bit different from most European languages." She mentioned, an also noticed when he said it was a less formal greeting.
"Western European Languages only," Sidor said casually. "It is Slavic; that is to say, it has a great deal in common with languages like Polish and Hungarian. Although we borrow a surprising amount from the Romance Languages, of all things. Are you interested in linguistics?" He unlocked the door to the room he was staying in and stood aside to let her enter first.
It was a typical, low-quality motel room, although it didn't look like the bed had been slept in. There weren't many personal possessions around. A well thumbed copy of a book with a neatly printed Cyrillic title on leather bindings was on the bedside table, next to a battered chess set. A Makarov pistol was disassembled on the dresser and apparently in the middle of being cleaned.
Ariana walked into the room at a normal pace and slightly glanced around. She noticed the writing on the book matched the style of the letter he had sent her. "I know very little of foreign languages. When I was mortal, I only learned a few things so it would make ordering at Italian or French restaurants easier." She said as she sat in the chair next to a small table. "Linguistics do interest me a great deal. I think I may have mentioned I have spoke to people with many accents, so my curiosity is well rooted." At times she wondered if her curiosity was only seen as that, or intrusive.
"Slavic seems a little," Ariana gestured her hand as if searching for an appropriate word. "Austere maybe. Yet still you are right there is a bit of a soft quality from what I have heard before." It was not often that her face looked as if she was having a hard time describing something.
"Russian intonation is more broad than the more discrete English," Sidor said, sitting down on the other unstable chair in the room. The shadows on his face were strangely subdued at the moment, seeming quite settled to just sit there in defiance of the light and do nothing more. "In addition, it is a synthetic language where English is analytic. And it possesses letters that cannot properly be expressed in the English alphabet." He said this quite thoughtfully, as if he didn't often think of it.
"I tend to find English rather rigid, ordered. When I speak my native language, I can..." the Russian Haunt gestured vaguely as he spoke. The overthinking of language made it harder for him to speak easily understandable English, as anything becomes more difficult when one over-concentrates. "The word order. It is not important. The form of the words convey meaning. In English, you cannot rearrange a sentence as new thoughts come into your mind." He listened when she described the language as austere but soft, and wondered if that was a masked jibe or not. It was hard to tell when it came to that sort of connotation.
"Different ears hear things in different ways. English, to me... it is unexpressive, calculating. A language that is a tool and nothing more," Sidor gave a small shrug. "I often hear that Russian speakers sound angry or aggressive in turn."
There was a sudden look of apology on Ariana's face. "Forgive me Mr. Grigoriev. I believe I may have confused the two languages. I think that is why I do find curiosity in linguistics, so I do not do such a thing." She smiled softly, with a bit of embarrassment.
"You are right though, English is overly difficult. I was told once that it was difficult for people who spoke other languages to learn. Other languages seem more flowing and linear." She looked to Sidor's shadowed face. "Although now that I have the time, perhaps I should learn another language."
"Whatever your primary language is tends to be the one you find easiest," Sidor said, giving a little shrug. "The problem for me is that English is linear. Ah... for example, if I want to say 'I have a father' in English, you cannot say 'A father have I' or 'I father a have'. In Russian, it would not matter. U menya yest otets. Yest u menya otets. Otets yest u menya. The form of the words dictates the sentence. Suffixes and prefixes. Sometimes a single word can be a sentence." He paused, his body language shifting as he leant forwards on the table.
"Would you like to learn?"
Ariana listened intently as he spoke the different variations of one phrase. She did not let the thought pass through her head that she wondered if he wanted something in return for teaching her. "Yes, I would like that. Have you had experience teaching the language previously?" She smiled with interest. "Do many people speak Slavic in America?"
"There are a surprising amount of immigrants from Eastern Europe, yes. It's a fairly common language; although not so common as Spanish, and a few others, I believe. I cannot teach all the Slavic languages of course; I only speak Russian myself, although I have heard Polish quite often," Sidor said with a little nod. "In my studies, I learnt Linguistics as part of my tactical training. I've never applied it, but... I know the basics, at least. I've had to learn a second language myself, of course, so it helps."
The Russian Haunt considered asking for something in return, but decided against it. For two reasons. One was that it was simply tactically foolish; a favour for a favour doesn't endear a man to anyone, whereas a favour freely given could have a much higher return. And the second was that he missed speaking Russian, and it was a pleasant excuse to use it.
This would be an interesting challenge for Ariana, who generally read lips when she did not entirely understand someone or how something was phrased. "Yes, having to learn a second language would help a fair bit." She smiled and titled her head slightly. Her fingers flexed on her lap for a moment as if she was subconsciously remembering Sidor's face. "I do love to learn things that can be applicable and useful."
Relaxing a little in the worn chair, Ariana "The basics are the best way to start." She smiled.
Sidor considered the easiest approach. It wasn't the easiest to learn a language one wasn't immersed in. When one hears it constantly, the brain begins to pick out speech patterns. Without that advantage, it's much harder to continually practice. The only full immersion possible would be textual.
"This may sound strange," the Russian Haunt said after a moment. "But before you can learn to speak, you must learn to read and write. Without being able to understand the cyrillic text, the noises that go with each individual letter, it would be essentially being half-literate. And it is much harder to learn the lettering once you have learnt the speech; you start thinking in Anglicised forms otherwise. With the extra letters making different sounds... it's important not to cross the boundaries."
Ariana shook her head. "I do not think that sounds strange at all Mr. Grigoriev. It makes perfect sense." She thought for a moment about either ordering it herself, or having Felix pick it something up. "Do you have any suggested reading material? Or perhaps something instructional I could have ordered or picked up?" She smiled as she thought for a moment. "To what did I deserve such kindness? It is very generous of you go out of your way tutor me." Ariana was use to being the generous one in most cases, yet the Haunt was full of surprises, so it seemed.
"I'm not particularly familiar with the linguistics material offered in the United States," Sidor said, his voice slightly apologetic. "I would suggest starting with a dictionary. An unabridged one would probably be ideal. There are probably several beginner's books available as well." He paused at the final question, considering it as if it were a verbal trap. Of course, there were plenty of reasons he could give. In the end thought, he opted for simple, blunt honesty.
"I miss the language. The opportunity to tutor another person, is for me, an excuse to speak it. And I find your company pleasant. Taking the time to tutor you is hardly a great boon in that situation," the Russian Haunt said quietly.
Ariana believed what he said was true. Although she had been debating something for a while. She looked at Sidor, and for a moment she wished she could see his eyes. "May I ask your personal opinion about something?"
The sudden shift in topic caught Sidor's attention and beneath the shadows, his eyes flickered, taking in her face. He was silent for a moment, wondering.
"Of course you may. What is it?" he said, his voice quiet. He leaned forwards very slightly, which did nothing to alleviate the problems his disfigurement caused those who looked at him.
"Do you recall being suspicious of others before you were changed?" Ariana said with curiosity. She shook her hand in a slight dismissal gesture. "I am not referring to you by any means with this inquiry." She said with a sincere look on her face. If anyone she knew was reflective on such a matter, she hoped that Sidor may have some insight.
"Do I recall being suspicious?" Sidor said, and a faint smile tugged at his lips. "Introspective. But I'm afraid you chose a poor candidate for your inquiry. I was born in the Soviet Union, and I lived through Stalin's purges. When that is one's daily life, one is naturally suspicious of the motives of everyone, because anyone could be an informant." And of course, the job he happened to have had meant that if he had been caught, he would have been dead. Gulags were for politics. A freelance torturer was a dead man walking if he was found out.
"If you are asking if vampirism invites suspicion though, you are probably correct. I have found myself applying the same skills to politicking within Kindred society. The Beast makes us paranoid, wary creatures. And with our long lives, most Kindred are competition for a food source. Predators find it difficult to co-operate in nature beyond small groups," the Russian Haunt added, after a moment's thought. "Why should vampires be any different?"
Ariana listened to Sidor speak about his past. "Of course everyone's opinion on anything differs, mainly because of our background." She said as she looked to his shadows. "You are correct, we are paranoid because of our drive." Ariana let that thought linger for a moment while she looked around the room. "Pardon me for inquiring, but is the chess set something of an heirloom?"
Sidor looked thoughtful, but he nodded, very slightly. The subject faded as quickly as it had arrived, and he wondered at the purpose behind it. Still, there was no harm in admitting when he was born. His eyes flickered towards the chess set and a faint, wry chuckle came from his lips. It was, after a fashion. More a reminder of what he had been taught to do.
"I suppose you could call it that. Do you play?" the Russian Haunt said, watching her eyes moving across the shadows.
"I will confess, I have not played with a real opponent for years." Ariana laughed lightly. "Although I have played on the computer from time to time." She smiled to his shadows. "Do you play often Mr. Grigoriev?" Posing the question to him. One thing she was fond of was that he did not ask that she did not be informal while they spoke. Although she did appreciate his candor regardless of her personal preferences.
"A little pass-time of mine. You would be astonished what one can learn from playing chess against an able opponent," Sidor said, his voice thoughtful. The shadows seemed almost tranquil at the moment. "Perhaps you'd like to play me?" There was no pressure in the offer; it was evident without any thought that he'd not be offended whether she refused or not.
"Actually, I would enjoy that." Ariana smiled at Sidor. "It has been quite some time since I have done something relaxing like playing a board game." She added quickly. "Even though I know chess can be rather meticulous."
She put her arm on the chair and leaned on her chin with an inquisitive smile. "I would say we could make this interesting, however, I am sure your aptitude is far superior than mine is for this." Ariana laughed softly.
"Well, then, I would not dream of denying you," Sidor said, quite lightly, and stood to set up the board. The pieces were battered and worn, as if they'd been played many times over the years. "White or black?" It could tell him a lot about how a person thought, what side they took. "And no; there's no need to gamble. Perhaps next time. I personally think the first time one plays a new opponent, is its own reward."
"I would prefer black if you would not mind." Ariana spoke as Sidor sat back down. "You are correct, playing with someone new is very rewarding." She began helping him set up the pieces and lightly glanced over their wear as she did. "It appears as if the pieces seem to have a story themselves." Ariana said as she looked at the pawns as she placed them in their proper beginning spaces.
She chuckled lightly. "Be kind now, I am a bit rusty." As she winked to his shadowed face.
Sidor's gaze flickered over the black pieces. He too, preferred to play as black. His natural inclination was to observe his opponent and allow them to hang themselves. Tactically, he had a flair for it. But he was also a true tactician, and a good player could pick up either side, with the inherent strength and weakness of acquring the first move. When Ariana asked for the story behind it, for a moment, the tranquil shadows seemed to darken, before he gave a dry little laugh, less humoured than before.
"There is a story here, in these pieces," he said quietly. "Perhaps I will tell you it, if you would really be so interested. But I would warn you. It is not the sort of story that is pleasant to hear." The wink seemed to be lost to the shadows, but little movements like that mattered. Perhaps it was just the choice of words. He couldn't ever recall having been considered kind. That was justice, of a sort.
Ariana turned her head slightly in interest. She studied the pieces slightly while waiting for Sidor to make the first move. "I am interested. However, if it something you would rather not speak of right now I understand." She said as she made sure all the pieces were squared off on the board. "The last time I played was with my father." There was warmth in her voice as she spoke.
Sidor slowly advanced one of his pawns, before he looked at her, across the board. It was a calculated risk, to expose oneself. Normally he would have lied, or diverted the topic. He considered it from all angles as he listened to Ariana speak of her father with such warmth. He couldn't contrast it to himself. He had no memory of his father. It had never been important. The only father-figure in his life had been Otets; the bat-Nosferatu who had sired him.
"A happy memory for you?" he said quietly, hearing the warmth in her tone. "If we are to be fair... If I tell you this story, then perhaps it would be right for you to tell me something of your life. It seems to be the topic this evening."
Ariana realized that she may have slipped in her statement previously. It was rare that she mentioned anything from her past, so many secrets. Although this time, her family was what she spoke of and something that made her happy. "Yes, it is a happy memory for me." She smiled to Sidor honestly. "I think that is only fair that we make an exchange of such regard. After all, it helps us both to understand each other further."
There was part of her that wondered if anyone took the time to really know their peers. Perhaps that was why they were all suspicious or anxious around other Kindred. The unknown degree to that of which they were stuck in their immortality.
Sidor's gaze didn't flicker from the board as they played, but he listened. When he'd been robbed of the ability to maintain comfortable eye-contact with anyone, he'd developed the ability to listen attentively in other ways. It was a useful talent. Too often, people simply didn't listen to what another person was saying. Reading between the lines, what wasn't said, the way it was said, it taught so much about the measure of the individual. A straight trade, then; his mortal life story for hers.
It seemed reasonable. He was no longer the man he had been in life. That mortal shred was just a remnant that he was trying to break apart from.
"As you wish," the Russian Haunt said, his voice still thoughtful. "The memories for me are not happy. Nor are they sad. That sort of emotional reaction was something that was discouraged for me." His eyes moved across the pieces and he remembered, vividly. He could not imagine what it would be to lose those memories. Some things had faded. The faces of victims. The days that had blurred into nights. But Yekaterina was like a titan in his past. Her memory was a bonfire against those brief candles.
"My mother taught me to play chess. She was... extraordinary. And I don't say that with the eyes of a child. My mother's ability to assess another person was something exceptional. My earliest memory of this chess set... I was likely about five years old. I watched her playing..." Sidor paused for a moment. "My brother, I think. I had siblings, once, but none lived particularly long after that. He lost rather badly. I remember him protesting that it wasn't important." One finger traced across the White Bishop in front of him. "She broke his arm in three places. He was a foot taller than she was. And yet, only a fool disagreed with Yekaterina Ivanova Grigorieva." His voice didn't seem particularly hurt, or fearful. If anything, it seemed like he was just commenting on something that he found faintly interesting, like a strange insect.
Ariana could not help but see similarities within Sidor's mother and her sire, as a quick sign of it passed across her face and she glanced down at the board. She noticed there was not much emotion while he spoke, if any at all. Still, a small part of her wished she could see his face while he spoke. There was a gentle flexing of her fingers as if trying to remember his face again. "I can see what you mentioned before that there are memories tied into such a set. Some people choose not to keep such items that reflect such memories." Speaking as though she could relate. "Did you play against your mother as well?"
Sidor's eyes flickered over her features as the shadow passed across her face. He wondered who it had been, for her to have such empathy to the story. His gaze moved to her hands as he watched her fingers flex. The quick, gentle movement was hard to ignore. It left him wondering who exactly was in control here. That was an uncomfortable thought. Of course he was in control of himself. That was always, inevitably true. And yet, there was that seed of doubt.
"Some people hide from their memories, or run from them. That sort of thing is a mark of their nature. It is not in my nature to give in to fear," the Russian Haunt said quietly. "And yes. Yes, I played against my mother. I was her favourite student. Perhaps that alone is the reason I lived to see adulthood where the others died. The scar on my hand was one of her lessons, as a point of fact. It was entrirely worth learning, in the long run."
If only Sidor knew what horrible memories she tucked away, but she was not prepared to let it out just yet. Ariana moved another piece on the board. It appeared they had both been playing casually, which was probably best for her right now. There were a few black pieces along the side of the board as it were. "I think some move memories such as that to the side, in hopes to understand them later in life." She said once again, sounding as if she knew precisely his reasoning for which he spoke. "I will tell you of my father, as you requested."
Her face turned a bit brighter as she thought of her parents. "My father, Victor Donovan, was a very methodical man. The way he and I played taught me such ways and also patience. I started playing around the age of nine." Ariana relaxed a little while she continued. "We had a small wooden table inset with marble in the foyer by the large staircase in our house.” She made a gestured example at its height and size. "Once a day, my father and I would each move our pieces. I learned a lot about honesty at a young age. In our home, disappointing my parents was feared most of all.” Ariana’s voice was still warm and doting while speaking, there was nothing in her words to think that this is where her darkness came from. She paused for a moment since she was unable to gage his interest when she looked to his shadowed face.
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