Hey Mister [Ivan]

[Cali Schwa]

Cali decided she needed a break. Even though she felt lonely without Stevey beside her she went downtown. Figured maybe she could buy some new clothes and surprise him. She was glade that she could actually wear something comfortable for a change. After all she had to wear a dress to the dance, then o see her father, and nice top to go visit Steven's parents. Everything was just going so fast for her. Maybe that was why she didn't call or text Steven yet that day. Her mind was definitely not where she was.

All she could do was keep moving as she looked into he windows of the places she saw. All she was really doing was just taking a long walk. Cali definitely couldn't stop thinking about Steven and it was driving her crazy. She felt as if she was losing her touch. Cali felt if she wasn't being mean or rude to others soon she would loose her touch and become all soft. She definitely didn't want that. Mushy would just make her weak and that was a scary thought. After all what would she do if she was mushy and Steven left her? As he popped into her head again she sighed and shook her head.

[Ivan Avlang]

Ivan was on edge. There was rarely a time that he wasn't, but it was one of those days that Ivan's powers felt a little.... unstable. He got this way every now and again, when his nightmares would return and he would think of a dark room where he had lived for so long. Where he had been young and his dark, wide eyes would stare at the ceiling, creating flying beetles with what energy he had left, glowing softly in the pitch, he would let them escape, knowing that before they got too far they would fade and their existence would be gone without another knowing of them. Those were what he remembered, and what little hope they would give him when he was drugged and dragged from the little sanctuary and poked ad prodded and tested.

The remembered how the other soldiers would call him a monster, forcing the name on him, trying the wear him down, but with the beetles and the sticks of charcoal he could find, Ivan still emerged from the wreckage that he left behind with free will.

He still hated being around people. He hated it that he didn't go places with Eva often enough, but he couldn't risk being in the limelight too much. Though most of the people that had worked and studied and been part of Ivan's "training" were now dead, it was still unsafe, and though Ivan didn't care about his well-being, he suffered himself over his equations when it came to Eva's life and survival.

As he moved across town in search of a decent art shop, he kept his shoulders down and watched people carefully. As he moved and watched others engaged in activities, his mind blurring as instinct showed him hundreds of ways to kill anyone who could be a threat. In the movie that played in his mind, cross-hairs rested upon each person, no matter the age, size, gender or physical ability.

He found the shop he was looking for, and went in, his body tense. Ivan moved to the back, where he found india ink and some bamboo paintbrushes. He also bought varying colors of oil paint and some soft-bristled fur brushes. He quickly paid for them and hurried out, just wanting to return to the house, especially since his rage was seeping trying to seep out of him as the destructive nightmarish things that had torn apart and killed so many. He needed to paint, or meditate... he needed Eva to peel back the layers of hate and anger that he felt so often toward people, to find what lurked under. He was never sure, but she said that it was beautiful and was wonderful whatever that feeling was. Love? Perhaps. But the russian would never say anything.

Not that he needed to.

His concentration not on his walking and back to the blonde at home, Ivan felt his shoulder slam into someone. Instinctively, he dropped his bag and his hand flew to the knife in his pocket. He was about to take it out, but looked at the person that he had run into, a young woman, and sighed. If she was a threat he wouldn't need a knife to take her down. Yes, that was the first thing that came to his mind. That, and he wasn't all that happy with her causing him to drop his new paints. The bottle of India Ink had split open and was bleeding on the concrete.

"Fucking kids." He spat, kneeling down, keeping his peripherals on the teen as he gathered his stained supplies.

[Cali Schwa]

Cali was walking along not knowing what she was going to do. Her mind still thinking about Steven. In Cali's mind it was perfect, the situation that just occurred. She could prove to herself that she hadn't lost her touch. Even though she had no clue who she was about agitate. Placing a hand on her shoulder she watched the man. bending down an picking up...art supplies? She defiantly was going to mess with him now. Especially after he said what he said. Cali grounded her teeth and huffed. "Excuse you. You freaking bumped into me, asshole. What the hell is your malfunction moron?" Cali looked down at the man.

She wondered what he would do, cry, yell at her, flip out, or start a fight. Cali was hoping for a word battle. All she wanted to do is prove that she wasn't as weak as she felt Steven fought most of her battles now and she just didn't like it sometimes. Cali wanted to be able to know she could still hold her own when it came down to the nitty gritty. Her body posture was stiff and seemed to be filled with anger. She really was going to try adn push this guy until he broke. Cali had no idea what she was getting herself into.