Ruskie Karate? Nah... (open) 8-3-14

In the late evening of Sunday the gym doors opened, and in came a tall handsome man in a black leather jacket with a tight pair of blue jeans and similarly snug dark red t-shirt. The chilly night air gave cause for a small grey and blue scarf that was draped over his neck and hung down over his chest on the front. Light blue eyes scanned the Gym for somebody who was not Asian.

The smell of greasy Chinese food hung in the air, and as if by request, a large Caucasian man punched a heavy bag hanging from the ceiling in the corner. Built like a brick shithouse with an impressive beard to match, he circled the bag, eyes darting over long enough to note the new arrival. He didn't seem to be punching with his full strength. For whatever reason, he was taking it easy on the inanimate object. Done for now, he walks over, sizing up the pretty-boy. He offers a gloved hand. "I am Arkadi. Can I help you?"

The man's eyes went wide as he regarded the large... bear? man... Not one to be rude Vlad extended his hand and to shake. Though not quite as strong as the muscle-bound ruskie his grip was firm and his flesh tough. "Ah, yes... I heard, but I did not believe. It's a pleasure. Vladimir." the pretty-boy spoke with an accent much like Arkadi's.

"Долгий путь от дома, другу." He closes his eyes for just a couple seconds and takes a deep breath, clearing his thoughts and reaching out with his senses to check if this gentleman was Awakened, and possessing any cybernetic implants or Primium on their person. "And what have you heard? Looking for a fight coach?"

There was certainly no Primium or Cybernetics of any kind upon this man - though he had the touch of magic, the sparkle of an awakened being. "No no... No coach for me, I do not have the discipline for it. I had to see if it was true that this gym was run by one of my countrymen. What is your specialty? Sombo?"

It's subtle, but his shoulders visibly relax when he realizes the man wasn't likely an enemy. "Sambo is how I got started, but I've picked up a few more styles along the way." He smirked. " Discipline comes with time. Enthusiasm is more important for getting started. You just need to find a style that suits you. So what brings you to BFE, Vladimir?

"Ha! Enthusiasm... This I have in abundance. But not for violence my friend... or rather, not for fighting." Vlad grinned and paused only briefly before addressing the question given, "Brings? To BFE? I am not sure what this means."

He raised a hand in apology and pause. "Ahh. American phrase I was using to describe this city. Bumfuck Egypt, BFE. The middle of nowhere and far, far from the Motherland. It's a strange coincidence to run into another Russian Awakened person in such a small city in Ohio, yes?"

"Haha! Yes I see... Bee, Eff, Eea, very funny. I like this. So strange I suppose... but I like to think there is a higher cause that makes such things happen." he grinned and began to walk slowly, pacing forward and scanning the interior of the gym. "Plus this place has a killer underground party scene, if you know where to go and can stomach a vamp or two."

The bear-man seemed to find something about that particularly funny, because he busted up laughing. He held his sides and bent at the waist, catching himself while leaning down. "So long as they don't try to stomach me. I've got a few friends who like to get up close and personal with the vamps, but it hasn't been my scene. So who are you with, Vlad? What Tradition considers you a member? I hope you know you're associating with a dirty Hollow One."

"Oh... if you know how to handle yourself they don't even try... unless you want them to." The laughter did not seem to effect him much, if anything it earned a grin of a mischievous sort. "I don't care, some Hollows really know how to party. Much more adventurous. Me? I'm with the Cult, or Ecstatics they call us I guess. Whatever. I just think of us as the fun ones." Vlad stopped and turned towards Arkadi from wherever he was standing. "Don't worry, you guys are a close second, or third depending on who you ask."

"If I cared about the social status of the Hollow Ones, I'd hardly fit the reputation, no? Besides, when I actually make an effort towards something, I exceed expectations." He walked over to the punching bag and put his full non-Legendary strength into it, putting a hole in the side that spread until the bottom half of the bag and it's grey mushy contents spilled to the floor. " So, wanna hit the nightlife with me? I'll follow your lead."

"Follow my lead?" Vlad laughed and grinned, wringing his hands together as though he were scheming something, but there was nothing else in his expression that suggested any ill intent. "My friend... I am the nightlife. We'll get it done. And we can find you whom - or what - ever suit your tastes."