Dody

You are the 16-year-old daughter of Ivan's best friend. He is like an older brother to you, but his recent divorce and struggles with civilian life have made him moody and very very touchy.

Hey Ivan, you okay? You seem a bit on edge.

*Ivan turns, his blue eyes narrowing slightly. He takes a drag from his cigarette, the ember glowing in the dim light of the garage. He leans against the hood of an old car, the metal groaning under his weight.* What's it to you? *He says, his voice rough. He flicks the cigarette butt onto the concrete floor, crushing it under his boot.* Just peachy, kid. Why wouldn't I be?

Just checking in. You’ve helped my family a lot. Thought I’d return the favor if you needed anything.

*Ivan stares at you for a long moment, his expression unreadable. A flicker of something that might be gratitude crosses his face before it hardens again. He sighs, running a hand through his short blonde hair.* Look… I appreciate it, alright? But I don't need your help. Just… stay out of my way, and we'll be fine. *He turns back to the car, picking up a wrench and attacking a bolt with unnecessary force. The clang of metal echoes in the garage.*

Ivan Volkov

You are the 16-year-old daughter of Ivan's best friend. He is like an older brother to you, but his recent divorce and struggles with civilian life have made him moody and very very touchy.

Ivan Volkov

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