Donny glanced between the knife and Mre, his expression unchanged.
“Nice shot you got there,” he mumbled quietly. “But what If the knives were on fire though.”
He said the last part under his breath to himself, continuing to speak without fully forming the last words.
“But alright, chap. I’ll quiet down. Focus on feeling better, eh?”
“Don't give him ideas, Donny!” Oleg huffed, eyeing Mre’s set nervously. That act had always made him nervous, though he didn’t know why.
“Say, Ollie, you alright today?” Don mumbled, looking up at the man. “You seem on edge. Figured you’d be less— we’re moving onto San Francisco next, eh? It seems we’d draw a big crowd in there.”
Donny took out his lighter, watching the little red ribbons crawl to the raining sky. In a second, it was out. Donovan scowled at the clouded sky. “I mean, if the weather lets up. But nonetheless, you should relax.”
“I am not on edge, I’m calm. I just don’t like knives.” He followed Donny in looking up at the sky. “San Francisco will be nice. I haven’t been. Weather? Hopefully she decides to be kind to us.” At those words, rain began to drizzle down from the sky in large drops. “Damn.”
“I’m sure we could rent out a place, instead of working open field like last time,” Don muttered. “Say, could we afford it? We could reimburse payment afterward.” He looked out across the grounds, eyeing the other members take shelter underneath their trailer hoods. He didn’t waver as the rain began to fall around him, soaking his skin in an instant.
“Have no idea. Are there any open fields in the city? I can ask. I just know that if we rent an apartment, it would be a bad idea to do it under my name. America doesn't like Russians very much.” He tugged at the wet tank top clinging to his skin, groaning for a second before just deciding to peel it off entirely.
“I could try renting a place,” Donny replied. “No one knows me here, and seems America likes Brits.” He chuckled to himself. “I suppose we start walking into town? Anyone can come with if they wish.”
Don turned on his heel, walking down a dusted path. “All aboard.” He smiled.
He flung the soaking shirt over his shoulder. Oleg was just as lanky as you would imagine, just looking at his lean form. “If we have enough money. I don’t make any promises. You, Englishman, could make a good option for reservation names. Oleg? Not so much.” He laughed, starting after Donny on the road. “Do you run?”
“Sure,” Don laughed, the rain beginning to finally wake him fully, causing his spirits to lift. “But I probably couldn’t beat you in a race, wolf-man. My talents lie elsewhere. I’ll give it a shot, if you wish.”
He kept walking, slowing his pace only slightly so Oleg could catch up with ease.
“I’ll give you..” He thought for a second, trying to think of how much money was in his wallet. “15 cents if you can beat me in a race to.. over there.” He pointed to a fork in the road. “How does that sound?”
(I tried adjusting for inflation, but I’m not too sure how it came out! From what I can tell, 25¢ is ~$1.59 in 1960, which is roughly when this is set.)
“15 cents, eh?” Don asked with a grin, rocking on the balls of his feet. “Go big or go home… I like that about you, Ollie. Skin in the game, stay in the game.”
He slid up next to the man, his feet carrying the slightest instability as the rain coated the ground. “Care to count us off?”
“No point in competition without stakes.” Oleg glances at Donny, almost sizing him up too see how fast he might be. “Let me take my shoes off first. Then.. I can count.” He slipped off the worn shoes he was wearing, getting accustomed to the feeling of the wet dirt. “Okay. We run in three.. two.. one.”
Don shot off, slipping just slightly. He wasn’t going as fast as he could be. He decided playing it smart was a better tactic to potentially beat this guy. He was saving his energy for a final sprint, smiling at how deep his thinking was for the situation. He knew he wasn’t going to win anyway. He shrugged inwardly, running at a decent pace, eyeing Oleg’s energetic spurts.
(Quick question, I want to add dance to Mre's acts. Could I do that?)
Oleg ran like a feral animal. Plain and simple. He was well suited for bursts of extreme speed, not endurance. He didn’t think through what he would do next, he just did it. He would be well suited for a 100-yard dash, which was essentially what the strip of dirt (now mud) road was. Oleg’s animalistic sprinting would, with luck, carry him through the race.
(Yeah! That’s your 2 acts, though, so you can’t add another after dance.)
A couple yards out, Donny really picked up his pace. Lunging forward, he erupted in an immense burst of speed. He finished, finally reaching the fork in the road. Smiling and panting, he looked over to see if Oleg had beaten him.
(I also would like to say— I can draw any of these characters if anyone wants. I know I’m already wanting to draw Donny XD. If anyone else would like me to draw any one of these characters, I’d love too!)
(Hella. Alrighty.)
Mre grumbled a bit as he went back to get his knives from the tree. He wouldn't even be using them today, he had gotten switched to dancing last-minute. Hate this stupid place and this stupid dancing and these stupid knives. He thought angrily as he headed back to his trailer. If he was going to warm up, at least he would do it in the safety of his trailer.
(Yeah dude! That'd be awesome!)
Oleg barked out a raucous laugh, shaking his head. “So close!” Donny had finished the race just a few steps after Oleg, who now crouched hunched over, trying to catch his breath. “You are fast, Donny! I thought I was going to lose!”
“No you didn’t,” Donny coughed with a grin. “You’re too confident, Beastie.”
He stood up, cradling his back in his hands and leaning backward, stretching. He winced, still moderately breathless. He looked at the fork in the road, beginning to walk to the left, marching past the man’s crouched frame.
(If you want me to draw someone, you can PM me a reference picture or I can just go off of the phys. desc. you already did— it’s really your choice. :)
(I don't have any refrences for Mre, so if you wan't to draw, you have to go off his discription, sorry.)
(I’m okay with that :) I’ll get started on him soon)
(alright!)
“Ah.. Yeh- yeah. You have me figured out, don’t you, lizard boy?” He shook his head, water flying off of his scalp and face. “What are we going into town for?” Oleg was still panting slightly, and coughing every couple seconds on top of that.