Unless you are Mira-Charma13 or Forever_Trapped, no touchie! :3


Name: Velonin Ferréol
Age: Nineteen
Picture:

Name: Zoya Belyaev

Age: 18

Picture:

((Okay, you want to start it off, or should I?))

{You should ^_^}

((Okay, I'll work on a post!))

{Okay ^+^}

(Hm...I guess I'll describe my character's situation and everything, first. Just to set it up! Then you can start with your character. X3 ))

Sunny days were always the worst.

Velonin hated the 'outside' world. He didn't like getting dirty, or seeing most animals. He didn't even care for the smell of grass, or trees. He rarely left city areas for anything...unless it came to work.

Velo was a technological genius. He was the government's secret weapon with anything concerning technology. He could take apart supercomputers and then put them back together, in the same or better condition than they had been before he started. He was a marvel, and he was only nineteen.

As long as he got...well...mostly anything he wanted, he had no problem working for the government, even though he had issues with it. A selfish being, he was...

Zoya woke up slowly, feeling the bumps of the truck. The memories flew back to her - the explosion, the screaming, the people she took down with her, the men who grabbed her that got beat the hell out of until one hit her in the face with their gun-.

Immediatly, Zoya struggled against her ropes and binds, screaming in a forign language. The military men escorting her rolled their eyes, picking her up by her arms and dragging her down.

When Zoya was captured, most of the men gave up fairly easily. See - Zoya was the best they had, even though she was so dang young - she still surpassed mos of the men, mainly because she was so unstable and normally didnt give less of a crap what happened to anyone except herself. But she'd go to a lot of lengths to protect the people with her out on a mission.

Zoya was thrown into a chair, her panting and growling filling it. She started yelling something in a different language, yelling things that sounded awfully similar to it. Right now, they were finding someone to interogate her.

"Hey, punk. You'd better wake up. They want you to interrogate some crazy chick a few rooms down."

Velo grumbled. He'd been in the middle of a very nice nap when one of the soldiers had come to wake him up. He had one of the nicer rooms in this particular building and used it to his advantage, spending most of the day fiddling with his electronics or napping peacefully.

When the soldier reached out to attempt to shake him awake, Velo swatted him away and crawled out of his bed, reaching over to his nightstand and grabbing his glasses. He put them on and adjusted them as the soldier led him out into the hall, and towards the interrogation room.

"Где - я?! Кто - Вы люди?! Почему - я здесь?!" Zoya screamed at whoever was listening. The window's were mirrored, so she couldnt see through it to see if anyone was there.

Although it was clear after a while, after she stopped, she panted hard. Her echo's off the wall started to annoy her. Throwing herself forward, she tried to see anything that was going around.

"Здравствуйте?!" she screamed, angered.

Velo heard the screaming before he saw its source. "Someone sounds pissed off," he commented, unnecessarily. The soldier escorting him gave him a funny look before leading him into the interrogation room and closing the door behind him.

Velo regarded Zoya with amused, curious eyes and said nothing. He knew many different languages.

Zoya saw who they bought in and she narrowed her eyes, exhailing deeply and throwing her head back to get her hair out of her face.

"фантастический, я взят мужчиной." she mumbled to herself, shaking her head. Zoya lifted her head and looked at him.

Velo continued his observation for a few more minutes. Then, he went through a flurry of different languages, pausing after each one to see if she understood what he was saying. When he finally reached one she could understand...it became apparent that he was saying something completely random in different languages, to gain her attention.

"I happen to like rice and soy sauce together. How about you?"

Zoya staired blankly at him until he finally reached her langauge. Took him long enough, she thought then chuckled, shaking her head. Running her tongue over her teeth, she finally just grinned, shaking her head lightly.

"You are a very odd American," she said, her accient finally showing her language - Russian. She threw one leg over the other, looking at him in pure amusement.

"Why, thank you. I'd rather be anything but normal," Velo retorted, leaning against the wall casually. "What're you in for? Got caught being naughty? Oh, they didn't tell me anything about what you're in for, or about you. They rarely tell me anything."

Zoya smiled then laughed randomly.
"I'm Russian. I tried to blow up a building, then - I tried to kill some people. That's enough evidence... right?" she asked, being somewhat of a smart ass. Her almost black eyes stared at him, following his every move. He was odd, yes, but she'd figure it out eventually.

"Sounds like fun," Velo commented, offhandedly. "I think they want me to interrogate you or something. I don't know how they expect me to do that when I don't know what the hell I'm looking for."

Velo reached up and absentmindedly scratched the faint scar on his face, under his left eye.

"How'd you get that?" Zoya asked randomly, her curiousity peeking through. Zoya kinda figured she needed to keep her big mouth shut, but she couldnt help it. She was quite curious.

"I had a stalker when I was younger. He kidnapped me for a week, before he was captured and brought to justice. This scar's one of the many injuries I contracted during that kidnapping," Velo replied, simply. Though it seemed like it had been a terrible ordeal for him, he didn't seem upset speaking about it.

She nodded softly. "I see." she said simply.

From that moment, Zoya kept her mouth shut, simply stairing at him and trying to get into his head with her eyes. She wouldnt blink for a whilie, but did move her head left and right, being... 'Zoya'.

Velo didn't bother saying anything else. He studied the room with incredible precision and concentration, like he wouldn't miss a single thing. He also started moving his fingers to noiselessly drum them against the wall.

Zoya wasnt phased. If you wanted a Russian to talk - you'd have to either beat them in a drinking game or make them feel so much pain they couldnt stand it and that, in and of itself, was dang near impossible.

Velo finally stopped examining the room and sighed, slumping over a bit. "I'm so bored. I want to get back to my nap," he complained. He was nineteen, but he was complaining like he was six.

"Such a child," Zoya commented under her breath, rolling her eyes. She leaned her head back, not caring what happened anymore.

"Hey, I'm not old yet. And I plan to live out my years doing whatever I want, whenever I want, and getting whatever I want," Velo replied, simply. "I'm spoiled. But, without me, they've got nothing in terms of technology. Hell, they could fire their entire tech staff and just leave me, and everything would run ten times better than it does now...they need me."

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((I've got to get off--my brother needs a turn on this computer. I'll try to get back on as soon as possible!))