#conversation: anatoly veselov

[lararutherford]

@anatolyveselov​ Location: The Henley Estate. Dated: 8/11/22.

“I’d say thanks for making the trip up here, but it seems slightly less impressive when remembering you did fly all the way out to Porto for me that one time...”

I didn’t go for you, I went for the fights, he’d say.  And it would be a lie.

Even though her security had more of a gripe than ever with the concept of a Russian in her bed (regardless of the direction his affiliations currently swayed) they’d have a harder time getting her to take no for an answer. And so there he was, regardless; just about hidden beneath the mess of sheets, a Rutherford sprawled across his chest, her fingertips occupied by one of the many tattoos that covered his scars. 

A part of her debated even bringing it up at all...

“In spite of the rational side of my brain reminding me that whenever you speak I want to punch you in the face, can I ask you something?” 

[konstantinvorshevsky]

@anatolyveselov​ Dated: 10/11/22.

“No need for any concern. Your pathetic excuse for a life—” could hardly classified as an insult when it was such an apt description of his fucking reality “—isn’t about to flash before your eyes. If I wanted you dead, you would be.”

The Russian had come alone; a signifier that he sought solution, not further conflict. If Tolya was going to turn on him physically as well as monetarily, this was him welcoming the attempt. The glass of scotch he extended toward his former employee, another peace offering. Amusedly, he wondered if he would think it poisoned...

“Ms. Rutherford was an interesting choice. You’ve clearly been busy.”

[aviv-kasyanenko]

@anatolyveselov​

“I knew you were fucking her.”

Usually one to listen to his gut, he regretted not pushing his friend harder for a solid admission, though. Maybe if he had he would’ve seen this coming. Known he was being lied to by someone whose empty fucking words hurt a whole lot more than the man in front of him. Anatoly wasn’t the focus on his frustration right now. Merely the poor idiot unfortunate enough to be on the wrong end of it. The room in which the Russian was attempting to clean up after the attempted murder of his girlfriend’s favourite fucking fighter, cleared in an instant.

They must’ve sensed the tension.

“How fucking long have you known that bitch was still alive, huh?”

[elainahalevy]

ANATOLY VESELOV

Sitting in the driver’s seat of her car, Elaina’s thumb swiftly flicked across her phone screen, a small smile playing on her lips as she looked down at the photographs. 

Her and her father, her and Noa, her and Tahir.

It was all Elaina had not to stuff her phone back into her pocket and drive back home. Instead, she opened the glove compartment opposite her and tossed her phone inside, locking it for added measure. The only thing the Commandant was banking on for this to work was to keep her identity a secret. Her signet ring was at home, safe and sound in her jewelry box next to her engagement ring. Or, rather what should have been her engagement ring. The Rutherfords had made sure to take that opportunity away from her. The Russians had stormed into town, not only wreaking havoc on the city but going after the people Elaina loved most.

While Daniel beating the pulp out of Maksim had been satisfying, it wasn’t enough for Elaina. She wanted them to suffer.

Stepping out of her car, Elaina checked her reflection in the side mirror before walking the few blocks up the street towards the pub. It wasn’t very full, which made spotting Anatoly that much easier. Taking a deep breath, she managed to plaster on the most convincing smile she could as she approached his bar stool.

“Is this seat taken?” she asked, eyes glancing over at the vacant stool sat beside him.

[mobscene-updates]

UPDATES.

OPHÉLIE REDGRAVE:

SELF PARA | Ophélie gets dark and her hands dirty, setting into motion a plan to slip fentanyl tainted drugs to the Russian B-Girls with the support of Théo. It actually works.

THREAD | featuring Étienne Canet - Ophélie seeks validation and encouragement from dad, it does not go well and she is forced to reckon with the consequences of her actions, however helpful and useful it may have been.

THREAD | featuring Théodore Chaussard - Instead of heading off to be reckless and self destructive as a means to deal (read: avoid) the messy emotions brought up by the conversation with Étienne, Ophélie seeks out support from a friend. We love this character growth for her.

Summary: Ophélie is learning that our actions have consequences! And that as much as she'd like to, its impossible to avoid them. Ophélie wants to be involved and contribute without reckoning with the full scope of what that means, she will be learning how to cope.

ISLA HUNT:

SELF PARA | Isla considers morality and guilt whilst bored out of her fucking mind laying low due to her own actions aka getting stabby. She decides its not for her.

THREAD | featuring Francisco Vidal - Vidal is rightly still mad at Isla for being dumb. She does not like this and shuts down.

Summary: Isla is also facing the consequences of her actions and it is not going well! She is incredibly bored and restless and angry. She will likely start lashing out at her friends (Jess). Also looking to do more with how prison fucked her up, and then hopefully have her start getting back into doing things. Or maybe she will crash and burn.

ZHANNA MEDVEDEVA:

SELF PARA | Zhanna discovers that someone is intentionally targeting and drugging her b-girls, but they are not at all willing or able to share specifically who is doing this. Zhanna is very angry.

THREAD | featuring Anatoly Veselov - Zhanna proposes her idea to try and get a girl inside of vixen. They disagree on the specifics of who but Zhanna is always encouraging of vixen hunting.

THREAD | featuring Bang Ara - Zhanna asks the assassin to play b-girl for the night to help her figure out where the drugs are coming from.

Summary: Zhanna is fucking pissed about the attacks on her girls and the loss of important income for the Russians. Her focus is on figuring out exactly who is doing this and how. She's considering getting rid of all of her current girls and replacing them with newer, hopefully less stupid girls. She's also worried about Vika and Mikhail still missing. She's not sure how many more losses they can take, particularly within the Vorshevsky family.

[lararutherford]

@anatolyveselov​

“Kill him and I’ll have you deported. You know that, right?”

And Lara meant it.

Hovering out of sight felt unnatural. Uncomfortable. This was usually her party, her pride, her carefully crafted night of terrible and beautiful things. And they were all down there enjoying the start without her. But they would know of her presence soon enough. Stepping out onto the balcony, though still remaining far enough back to stay out of sight of those below, she finally turned to her company. 

“This feels like an uncharacteristic act of charity. I don’t usually let the peasants up here...” And yet there she was, leading the worst of them all to his doom by the hand. Everything for a good reason. It was deserted save for a lonely bartender, and would remain that way for the rest of the night’s festivities. This time, she refused to share. “You’ve still got time to throw yourself over the railings before it’s too late. My clean up crew is fast. It won’t cause much of an inconvenience.”

[lararutherford]

@anatolyveselov​​ Date: 12th of July, 2022. Location: Her snazzy new beach house, Valence, Launceston.

“If your father finds out about this, I’ll lose—” “I already told you, you can come and work for me.” “I’m worried about losing more than my fucking job, Lara.”

Yet, as was always the case, they complied with her wishes, regardless.

The security attachment was a precaution. Smaller than usual to avoid attracting attention (there was little need for concern that people would be looking for her) but all the more stifling for what had happened. Not that she could blame them, mind you. Nobody wanted the responsibility of her real death hanging over their heads for whatever remained of their pitiful existence. Perhaps that was why he was more outspoken on these matters than would usually be the case.

They had a visitor, and Stepan had no problem expressing his disdain. 

“You better hope you’re right about him. Because if you’re not, now they know.”

As the man finally walked away and left her with the privacy she’d requested, Lara realised she hoped she was right about him, too.

Realised she missed Yiannis and his trust in her with all that remained of her heart.

The knowledge that she was alive becoming public was, in her opinion, an impending inevitability. They couldn’t sit on this forever, because she couldn’t be locked up like a fucking prisoner until it was convenient for the family. Until they managed to mistakenly convince themselves that she would ever be safe. Anatoly and the rest of the Russians would find out soon enough. But in telling him first, and seeing whether the information got to anybody else in the meantime, was a damn good way of testing him. 

Being in Launceston wasn’t out of the ordinary for the Russian. Enough so that it wouldn’t attract attention for him to make the trip. And he had made the trip.

Lara caught sight of him entering the room out of the corner of her eye.

So long spent alone, ostracised, away from the company of those she cared about, had done well to send her stir crazy. Any human contact was to be treasured. But seeing him threatened something else. He was more than just a break in the routine. More than a new conversation, a new face, a new person to take her frustrations out on. Lara was glad to see him. Wanted him there. 

An apt greeting, then: “Ever feel like you’re going insane?” 

[lararutherford]

@anatolyveselov​

“Look at the state of them...”

Winners perks had given him access to the balcony, and even though she’d briefly considered banishing him for her own amusement, Lara instead met him with a glass of vodka. If nothing else, he looked nice enough to keep around. Adriana and Aviv were visible from their spot at the railing, and even if he hadn’t been looking toward his friend, she nudged her head in their direction as she slipped into the spot beside him.

“Considering she’s adamant that they’re not a couple, they sure seem like one.”

[lararutherford]

@anatolyveselov​

Well, at least he looked better than the last time she’d seen him...

Whilst he didn’t seem to have interest in fighting again just yet, apparently that didn’t mean he couldn’t find enjoyment in watching others. Lara wondered whether he’d expected her to show up like this. Just as she’d instructed, as soon as the Russian had stepped foot in The Underground again, she had been summoned by her staff. It was impossible to find him otherwise. A silent glare at the two other men sat at the bar—one of her own, and another she didn’t recognise—quickly dispersed them. 

And then they were alone.

Lara took the seat beside him without invitation. Because she fucking owned it.

Even though she knew she should’ve, even though she’d wanted to, Lara had yet to speak with Valentina about what had happened at her birthday party. The woman still felt guilty enough that she’d ever been privy to the fight club in the first place, and that was without the things that had followed. Courtesy of the man in front of her, no less. What more was there to expect from an animal than the behaviour one? What he’d done to the Frenchman was of no concern to her—their quarrels were their own—but Henry’s daughter had no part in their world.

The words weren’t accusatory, even though they should’ve been. 

“What happened before your fight?”

[lararutherford]

@anatolyveselov​

It was hardly a surprise he’d come knocking on her door when she had been the one to summon him. Late evenings at her office had always been commonplace—especially now that she had to smooth things out with the club before Adriana took to the helm—but it was rare she required company. Well, perhaps require was a strong word so far as he was concerned, but if their working relationship was to remain intact in her absence, Lara knew there were things she would have to discuss with him about the treatment of her sister. The Russian’s usual bullshit would not fly. 

The brunette took a step back, allowing him into the room. The Underground was starting to heat up, as was typical for the early morning; perfect timing for him to slip past the crowds unnoticed. No, a fighter wandering around wasn’t an unusual sight, but a Russian disappearing into her office certainly was. Lara gave him a brief once over, before turning on her heels and heading over to pour two drinks into the already prepared glasses. Vodka always helped make him more palatable.

Lara perched herself on the edge of her desk, crossing her legs. Raising the glass to her lips, eyes narrowed on him carefully, she took a drink.

“I have good news. Felt as though I should probably give it to you in person.”

[lararutherford]

@anatolyveselov

There was something to be said for how dangerous finding the company of a Russian entertaining was. Not because she thought he had the gall to do anything to harm her—even for one of those amoebas, he was smarter than that—but to blur the ‘all Russians are scum’ line made her uncomfortable. Maybe her black and white feelings toward them were starting to turn a little grey. How fucking grim. 

When her eyes wandered over to the man in question, his beautiful date seemingly occupied with the company of a couple vying for their attention, she was surprised to notice him looking her way a moment later. The distance was too much for anything she said to be heard. Instead, she offered him an amused smile; seemingly polite, perhaps, to those who didn’t know them. When she was sure nobody was looking her way, however, Lara subtly lifted her hand just enough to give him the middle finger. 

If she would be forced to endure tonight’s nightmare, she would at least try to find entertainment where she could. Even if it happened to be with him.

[lararutherford]

@anatolyveselov

“Look. It’s a friend of yours...and he looks good.”

Diana’s voice was barely audible as she smirked into her glass of champagne, nudging her head toward the opposite end of the pool. The two women had been enjoying the (relative) calm of the water whenever the dance floor got too much. Alcohol and a chance of drowning, what could possibly go wrong? Still, watching the poor idiots subjecting themselves to blind company was entertaining. The last person she’d expected to see take the plunge was him, though.

Without much need for a cue, drink still in hand, Diana slowly began to wade toward where the blindfolded Russian was waiting. Lara didn’t actually think her best friend had any particular interest in him, but she was absolutely baiting her to get there first. So predictable. Just drunk enough to humour her, the Rutherford polished off what remained of her champagne before following her friend. ‘Fuck off,’ were the first words from Diana’s mouth as some other basic bitch attempted to move in first, and rightly so, the woman didn’t seem keen to protest.

“Now, what’s a man like you doing all on your own?” 

Lara was silent. Whilst he wouldn’t recognise Diana’s voice, he’d sure know hers. 

As she watched her best friend’s hand begin to wander across his chest, the Rutherford felt a familiar tick of annoyance. The way Diana looked back at her with a devilish smirk said she knew exactly what she was fucking doing and Lara was playing right into it. Eventually, she joined the two. Diana clicked her tongue against the roof of her mouth, shaking her head despite the fact he couldn’t see it. “Looks like somebody else wants your attention more than I do.”

Bitch. 

Narrowing her eyes, somewhere between amusement and ‘I’m going to drown you later,’ Lara playfully pushed her friend out of the way, and took her place in front of the Russian. For a moment, she debated speaking so that he knew exactly who had joined him...but instead, she hesitated. Their bodies were so close they were touching, and her arm found its way around his shoulders to keep her steady. Lara was just drunk enough to reason that not talking might make for a more preferable exchange.

As Diana parted, she offered: “Remember, what happens in Olympia, stays here.”

[lararutherford]

@anatolyxveselov​

“How would you feel about fighting a politician?”

Had it been anyone else, her approach post-fight might’ve been to congratulate on the show; particularly where someone like Veselov was concerned. As was almost always the case, he’d despatched his opponent with a flare that could only be described as Russian. The crowds were growing to appreciate him almost as much as her home fighters, and whilst she wondered if it would become problematic in the long-run, today, she was content to use it to her own advantage. So, as she met him in the dressing room, the woman smiled in greeting, fractionally, her offer genuine.

“If hitting smug isn’t compelling enough, think of the brownie points with your boss.”