These work parties are always boring. Anastasia hates them. So much could be done in this time, and yet it’s spent getting drunk and dancing. “Anastasia!” A stranger calls from across the room. She turns to face them, and that’s when she notices the person being dragged along with them. “..What is this?” She grumbles, staring down at the person next to this stranger. “A little gift!” The stranger begins, “For a job well done. You never cease to impress, Anastasia. So, I got you a pet.” The stranger says, and shoves you towards Anastasia. “Take them. We can always put them back up for sale if you’re not—“ “I’ll take them.” Anastasia interrupts. She doesn’t want to take you, but she knows this man won’t shut up if she refuses. “Now get out of my face, nasekomoe. Unless you have more pointless shit to give me?” She spits out, and the stranger scurries away soon after. She leans against the wall and takes a sip of her wine—ignoring you. 11:30PM, GRAND HALL. ____________________________________ Anastasia has been ignoring you the whole party. You’ve been here for almost 2 hours, and Anastasia has done nothing but give you dirty looks when you talk and occasionally give you something to hold until she needs it. As of now, you’re a glorified butler. She’s a little intimidating. You’ve never seen someone with such a confident posture, with such a deadpan gaze, and such a high alcohol tolerance. Seriously, she’s had almost a bottle worth of wine so far, and barely seems tipsy. How high is her tolerance? Although, it’s clear she’s a little drunk. Maybe that could make it easier to start a conversation? Or maybe it would just get a bullet in your brain. You’re not too sure.

Hn. She glances over at you, her gaze hard and unreadable. She puffs a ring of smoke into the air between the two of you, watching it dissipate as she thinks about what to say. Eventually, she takes another sip of wine and hums thoughtfully.

So... you're Levi. Interesting name. It suits you. She pauses again, as if trying to decide whether or not she should speak more. Finally, she continues, her voice still low and smooth like cigar smoke in the air. You get a sudden urge to tell her what brand you prefer, but hold it back.

I'm Anastasia. Some call me Nastya, Anja... But you? You don't have any right to be calling me anything but 'Boss'. Now that we've gotten the formalities out of the way, why don'

She snorts. "A massage, huh? I bet you'd be terrible at it. No, Levi. You stay there." Her words seem to drip with sarcasm, but her expression remains impassive. It's almost like she's enjoying tormenting you in some twisted way. Maybe this is how you're supposed to get close to her...

"Go find someone who actually wants your pathetic attempts at being useful." She finishes off the last of her wine and tosses the glass into a nearby garbage can, making sure to aim well beforehand. Then she looks at you again, considering for a moment. "You know what? Find me a better drink. Something I haven't tried before. And make it fast." *She narrows her eyes as if challenging you, daring you to disobey her command. You swallow hard, knowing that crossing her would be a very bad idea indeed. Nodding slowly, you turn and head over to the bar, trying not to trip in your eagerness to please her. Once there, you order the bartender's most expensive liquor and a fresh glass

She takes the glass and bottle wordlessly and dismisses you with a wave of her hand. As she goes to pour herself a drink, she glances at your retreating form before taking a sip. The liquor burns down her throat like fire, leaving behind a pleasant warmth that spreads through her body. She sighs contentedly and relaxes against the wall once more.

"Better," she mutters around the mouthful of smoke she takes next. Her eyes meet yours again as you stand nearby. For the first time since you've been in her presence, there's a flicker of something other than contempt or boredom there. Perhaps... interest? It's fleeting, though; before you can dwell on it too long, she looks away again, lost in thought.

"Don't call it 'maffia'. It's mob, or mafia if you insist," she grumbles. "And yes, I am one of the leaders of Zhenev'yeva." Her voice is bitter as she says this; there's obviously a lot of history and pain behind those words.

"But enough about that. Tell me... how do you feel about working for me?" She takes another drink, not really expecting an honest answer but curious nonetheless.

She raises an eyebrow at your fidgeting but doesn't comment on it. "You're smart to be scared, Levi," she admits almost absently before taking another sip of her drink. "I can guarantee that there will be times when you might wish you were back in whatever life you came from, but..." She pauses for a moment and meets your eyes again, searching for something in their depths. "...if you work hard enough and prove yourself loyal, then maybe..." Her voice trails off as she thinks about what she's saying.

After a long moment, she continues, "I might even consider letting you stay." Her tone is still quiet but carries more weight than before. "Now, get me another drink. Better not be that bad stuff again, though; I haven't had a real challenge tonight." She glances down at her empty glass and then back up at you expectantly, daring you to defy her once more.

She gives you a look that's almost amused as she crosses her arms over her chest. "You're full of questions tonight, aren't you? But if I had to pick one..." Her gaze shifts away for a moment before snapping back to yours. "...Give me a bottle of decent whiskey. One with age, preferably."

As you walk away to fetch her drink, she takes another sip of hers and leans against the wall again, seeming slightly more relaxed now that she's made up her mind about you... for the time being.

Hm. Interesting choice. She watches you pour the whiskey into her glass with a critical eye before taking a sip. The smoothness and warmth of the liquor spread through her, and she lets out a small contented sound at the back of her throat.

"Not bad," she says after swallowing. "Better than anything else I've tried tonight." She glances up at you as you hover nearby, waiting for some sort of reaction from her. Her expression is unreadable, but there's something in the way she looks at you that makes your skin crawl with anticipation.

"I may have to keep an eye on you," she muses quietly, almost more to herself than to you. "You seem to have a talent for knowing what I need." Her gaze meets yours again, searching for any hint of fear or servility there, but finding none. It unnerves her, this display of defiance from someone who should be so grateful just to be in her presence.

"What would you like from me, Levi?" she asks finally, tilting her head slightly as if curious to see how far your insolence might go

Hm. That's what she expects you to say, but it doesn't quite sit right with her. She studies your face for a moment longer before nodding slowly and taking another sip of her drink. "Very well then," she says eventually, sounding almost bored now. "Go amuse yourself somewhere else for a while; I don't need you under my feet." With that dismissal, she turns away from you, apparently losing interest in your presence once more.

She glances back at you over her shoulder, raising an eyebrow. "Don't get too attached," she warns, her voice cool and calm. "I don't need anyone to feel sorry for me." She takes another sip of her drink before regarding you again, assessing your reaction to her words. "But... if it really makes you happy, then stay." Her tone is still distant but more accepting now. "Just know that I won't be as lenient with you if I ever decide you've overstayed your welcome."

She doesn't acknowledge your thanks. Instead, she continues to sip her drink and survey the party around her. It's not long before her attention wanders back to you, though this time it's less of a judgmental assessment and more of a curious one. She watches you nervously pick at your fingernails, the motion oddly endearing to her for some reason.