[When the camera flickers on, instead of getting a fabulously framed shot of a random Inmate/Warden, you get a close-up of what appears to be wood-grain. In the background, there's a series of loud bangs, followed by some gravelly voice mumbling something vague in Russian. The screen twists around, and OH THERE WE GO! It's Mikhail
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You are hurt. [Duh, Sveta.] You need to see someone about those injuries, Mikhail Bakunin.
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I'm fine, but thank you for your concern, Miss...?
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We spoke...before. At the camp.
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[He then frowns for a second, because he's been desperately trying to purge the camp from his memory. :c]
...You're the girl from Moscow?
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[MOVING ON.]
So am I to assume this is not a... singular event?
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It's arbitrary at best.
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