☈003.

[spiritsmoking]

[today at 1446 Mitchell Road, should you happen to be in the area, you might notice a certain blue haired German seated on the porch of the house, a lit cigarette between her lips. she's also lacking the typical Mayfield attire and seems to have gained back her own clothing, a black tube top, boots, and jean shorts. she almost seems happy. ...well

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[1dashingrogue]

[It just so happens that the Spy is walking down the street where Kanna lives. He spots her out on her porch, stopping right in front of her house.]

"Good to see you again...Miss Kanna."

[spiritsmoking]

[upon hearing the somewhat familiar voice, Kanna shifted her gaze and looked up, taking a moment or two to once again look the man over as she had done in the past. (humans were not to be trusted.) after a second or so she lifted up a hand in a vague sort of greeting.]

Hey.

[pulling her hand back down, she stood and stuffed it into a pocket of her shorts, digging around for a minute before pulling out a small roll of bills. without a moments hesitation or a word she tosses it over to the man, the papers held together safely with a rubber band.]

[1dashingrogue]

[He catches the rolled-up money easily, stares at it for a few seconds,and diverts his attention back to Kanna. He's not upset in the least bit, but part of him was hoping she'd keep the gift.]

"No need for zis anymore, I take it?"

[spiritsmoking]

[she shook her head at the question, reached down to her side and pulled two cigarettes from the overly-long pouch at her side that never seemed to go empty and held them up between her fingers for him to come and take.]

I got my stuff back.

[she did not, however, offer him back the lighter. her own hadn't been returned to her yet. (must've left it on the motorcycle...)]

[semblance]

[Okay, so Mitsuru doesn't exactly delight in making small talk, but she figures she might as well say hello to the new person when she's on her way back from mad stocking up at the grocery store... Sort of.]

You're new, oui? The one who attacked Russia...

[spiritsmoking]

[shifting her gaze, the blue-haired girl looked the stranger over quickly, top to bottom to make sure she wasn't much of a threat; old habits died hard.]

Yeah, I am. What of it?

[how the hell did she know about what happened with the annoyance they called a neighbor?]

[semblance]

Word gets around.

[She states as if to answer the other's thoughts. Wow, not a social one... We're not too bothered by that.]

I was just impressed is all. Do you have a name?

[spiritsmoking]

He wasn't worth my time.

[she lifts a hand up, runs her fingers through her hair as she exhales smoke into the air.]

Kanna Bismarch.

[kol_shevik]

[Look it's your favorite fatty commie, looking quite chipper himself but when doesn't he, seriously.]

Привет! Is nice today, Да~?

[spiritsmoking]

[damn it all, I thought I got rid of you already. she shifts slightly, taking on a more defensive position just in case.]

It was.

[kol_shevik]

нет, no need for fighting. Only wish to talk, окей?

[That shovel he seems so attached to says otherwise, but for now it's only planted in front of him as he fiddles with the handle like some bored 5-year-old.]

[spiritsmoking]

[she does indeed eye that shovel for a minute, but eventually leans back on the palm of one hand against the porch, something akin to a look of annoyance on her face. when wasn't there one, though? it's not like a shovel could frighten her.]

Hurry it up then.

[like_a_romanov]

[Oh hi there, neighbor. She has no idea you beat up Russia yet, har har.]

Good morning~!

[spiritsmoking]

[that was probably the weirdest cheeriest thing anyone has ever said or done in Kanna's general area of being, so pardon her for a minute while she just sits there and stares at you like you're a freak.]

[like_a_romanov]

[She doesn't even notice the staring yet. Anya's very cheerful now that there's food again.]

Hi! [Still waving, yep.] How are you?

[spiritsmoking]

...fine.

[was it normal for people to act like that? really? ...Kanna would never get used to this one. at least, not until the food-induced happiness wore off.]