Welcome, the Monster's Nightmare

[Nikolai [39]]

Dark winds howled through the frozen wooden poles and metal rungs, haphazardly tossed about as though someone had dropped it there in a pile. At the far side of the playground, a lone ragdoll tightened it's fur-lined leather coat around itself and stepped forward. He was in unknown territory now, headed towards the snow-dusted cathedral he could see in the distance. But, first, he had to cross this playground.

The snow didn't bother the figure. The obvious signs of use that peaked out from under the snow did. If there was another colony nearby it was improbable that he could fend them off if they turned violent.

He threw back his hood for a moment, snow swirling around his face. He let out a cloud as he exhaled, turning a light green tinted optic with a hard gaze on the towering cathedral.

He tugged at the black eyepatch over his left eye, the red radioactive symbol glaring against the stark blue-white snow and the black patch. He tugged slightly at the leather jacket again, and set off forwards the tall structure against the sky. If there was a civility to the colony there shouldn't be any problems. If he needed to fight... Well, just thinking of it made his hand tighten on the handle of the knife at his belt.

[♕ Columbine [98]]

<sub>Crunch... Crunch... Crunch...

Damned snow. Damned cold. Damn damn damn it all. This weather was in no way befit for a queen.

But then again... Columbine wasn't much of a queen.

The she-doll's appearance was anything but regal. If it weren't for her specially-tailored cloak, she probably couldn't get away with being called 'queen' of anything with her mangled body lazily patched together with burlap and leather. But damn it, she WAS queen. Of SOMETHING. Her name carried enough weight to force respect from strangers.

Speaking of strangers, Columbine hadn't been planning to stumble across any on her little visit to old Rogue territory - just to see how it was being treated by the Saviors. But a curious figure crossed her line of vision. Tall... rough and tough... red glowing eye... definitely didn't look like Savior material.

As fast as she could, Columbine clambered up a small hill of snow (hating how the cold ran through her metal legs) to catch up with the figure. Once she was sure she was within earshot, the ragdoll cuffed her hands around her mouth to project her voice further.

"Where you off to, handsome?"

Despite the flirtatious content - her tone was anything but. If anything it sounded a tad demeaning... sarcastic... but still the doll dropped her arms to her side to cross them and offer the hulking figure a friendly smile.

A hulk like him could prove useful.</sub>

[Nikolai [39]]

With hardly a flicker a hand-length knife of very fine make appeared in his right hand, and he dropped his dark coat to the ground. He dropped into a low crouch, allowing the paleness of his milky burlap fabric conceal him (Albeit rather poorly) against the snowy background. He covered his eyepatch with a hand, attempting to hide it. His mind was already racing.

If it came right down to it he could fight, all right. But it was cold and he was not looking forward to having to fight. Fighting made noise and this other could be a scout. So he took the democratic approach.
"What do you want. State your business."

The rough russian snarl of a voice easily punched through the snow, carrying with it a feeling of wary, paranoid intelligence. It wasn't a question, it was a statement. An order, really. The Russkie brute was really not in the mood to deal with others, and if he had to, it would (Hopefully) Be fleeting. If he waited too long he had no doubt he'd be found by machines- Any ragdoll was at risk of it, really, regardless of position.

[♕ Columbine [98]]

<sub>A quirk of the brow. That fluid motion to his eye. The blade in his hand. Cautious, this one... Columbine had to appreciate caution in this day and age. She also felt somehow complimented that Nikolai had automatically deemed her as a threat. The she-doll made a motion of her own, uncrossing her arms to hold up her hands in innocent defense. "Now hold on there. I just want to talk."

Part of her had him figured for some kind of mercenary or spy with that accent. But no sane Savior would hire anything with a red optic... no traitor she knew of would speak with such caution without attacking first. She calculated... tried to find an approach that wouldn't scare a potential ally off.

"Now I see you heading to that building..." Columbine spoke softly with a nod to the Cathedral, brows risen high in inquiry. "I just wanted to give you a ... friendly heads-up. Those dolls in there... they don't take too kindly to your kind. If you're looking for a home... a shortcut... or some work... then you're talking to the right doll."</sub>

[Nikolai [39]]

The fingers, long, spindly, but solidly built, unfolded and refolded against the handle of the knife in a wave motion, eliciting a series of soft clicks. Observant, this one... He straightened to his full height, but did not let the knife leave his hand.

Automatic readjustment of body posture and subtle but completely controlled gestures to imply innocence- He took it in with a stoic stare and picked up his coat. She was still a threat. But for now she was being civil, and the least he could do was return the favor. Besides- Approaching her gave him the distance to put his blade in her cranium should she make the wrong move.

He strode over to her, deftly flipping the knife over from a reverse grip to a standard grip. He let the point of the knife lull towards the ground. "My kind." He rumbled. "Do you mean oversized Stitchpunks? Ragdolls? Or are you referring to my eyepatch?" He gestured at the bright red symbol on the front of it, which many took as a sign of defection. "Dis is... simply fashion sense." As much as he could, he hid the thing that lurked beneath the patch. He was not ashamed of it, but it was a sizeable ace in the hole.

For a moment he wondered if she could tell that his left optic did not mirror his right, but decided that unless she had somehow seen him previously- Which he doubted- she was either simply guessing or had mistaken the symbol. He allowed himself to be reassured momentarily by his own logic, whether or not it was true. He sized her up for a second. No hidden weapons that he could see. He decided that for now civility could take priority over caution.

"The cathedral /is/ inhabited then. I figured as much. But I take it you are not a part of their colony?" He put the coat back on. At a distance they were unnoticeable- Up close, the scars that wove across his fabric were abundantly obvious. He didn't need any weak spots- Or, rather, perceived weak spots- giving her an advantage.

[♕ Columbine [98]]

<sub>The female hummed a pleased note as he strode closer. Hook, line, and sinker~ he was no mindless brute, no. The longer she spent in his presence the more she found herself wanting this one for her arsenal. Poor Nikolai didn't know that he had just become an accessory on display that a queen couldn't go without. That subtle gem on the crown... or in his case... a dagger tucked within her sleeve. Thinking of walks in the emptiness as window shopping made it easier for Columbine.

"Big, hulky, dangerous-looking ones." she crooned, still trying her best to avoid any flirtatious undertones slipping. A fellow this size, smarts, and strength wouldn't waste his time on flirting - and nor would a doll of her political interests. As he gestured at his eyepatch and tried to explain it all away, she did her best to stifle a laugh. "Fashion sense? Really? Didn't think a guy like you would care about such trivialities like fashion."

She did some visual mapping of her own. No one would screw with this guy... well no one in their right mind who wasn't a machine. Something told her he didn't speak business... so she'd have to tip-toe around the fact that she was wanting to hoard him all to herself and her clan. "Oh it's inhabited alright." She began, crossing her arms tighter than before while her expression grew irritated.

"By a collection of snobby, rude, pretentious silk-skins." Silk-skin being her own little way of saying... well they were quite good-looking and well put-together while she... was not. Not a lot of Rogues were, at least not since the passing of the last Rogue leader who supposedly had velvet skin and a golden frame. Tch.

"No, I run with a much humbler gang. The Rogues. My name is Columbine." she swept her arms open and gave him a curtsey, bowing her head while doing so. She hadn't expected him knowing who the hell she was... maybe it was better that way.</sub>

[Nikolai [39]]

"So humble, indeed." He muttered, mostly to himself, but a small, almost invisible begrudging smile tugged the corners of his mouth.

He did not bow in return to her display. The second her eyes left him he fought the habitual urge to put his knife up to the hilt into the back of her head, and in fact his hand tightened on the handle. But he squelched it. He put the knife in his belt. He figured, it was improbable that he would find violence here. "I am number 39, Nikolai."

He noticed that she was being cautious as well- Good. If she intended to try and corner a wolf she should at least be aware that it was just as much cornering her as she was it. "Silk-skins, hmm?" He pronounced the word 'Seelk', his Russian accent mangling the word.

"I merely wished to cross their territory. Perhaps find shelter for the night. Should that become an issue, I can skirt the edges of the territory. I have learned of a pair of Catskulls on the other side of the colony's area. I intend to find them, perhaps tail them back to their camp, and catch one while it sleeps." He used his thumb to push the massive blade at his side a finger's length from the sheathe to emphasize his point. "You surely have better things to do than stand here in the cold and gossip."

His words bit as the cold did, but there was an almost coy air to them- He was testing her temper and her quick thinking at this point. He had already talked more than he usually would- The conversation had, in fact, intrigued him. It was rare that he should come across a conversation to test his intellect over his brawn.