And really, I think I like who I'm becoming...
Aug 25, 2014 12:34:12 GMT -6
Post by Deleted on Aug 25, 2014 12:34:12 GMT -6
It was well over a twelve hour flight from Moscow to Jump City. To say that he was exhausted was an understatement. Before the flights, he was in a massive press conference with President Putin. The country, the whole world, was still buzzing about how he fended off an alien invasion in a week long week intergalactic war. Atleast, that's how the press spun it. Could a war really only have the duration of a week? Seemed more like a skirmish. Which meant two things. Either they underestimated Earth's defenses, which was foolish as they didn't even alert the attention of the Justice League or the Titans. Or, that was just a scouting raid, and the real invasion was just pending.
Both were something to consider.
For now, however, President Putin assured the people of Russia, and the rest of the world, that the alien threat was no longer a concern. And, if they returned, Red Star would be there to send them packing. Then, there were rounds of applause. Autograph signings. Visiting sick children. He didn't really enjoy press conferences, or the publicity. However, connecting with the people made everything worthwhile. He shared tears with the people who lost loved ones in the skirmish. A few laughs with soldiers who fought alongside him. They were his people. And, on presidential orders, he had to leave them.
Mid-flight, the President called him up, telling him there was a bank account set up for him when he landed. A start of a commission for saving the country, on top of being a representative, and superhero, for the Russian Federation. So, when he landed, he got his card and made his way to a Ducatti dealership and bought himself a motorcycle. With his bag on his back, he took to the city streets. Getting a feel for the diversity. That was one of the things he appreciated about American Culture. It didn't exist. There was just the traditions and cultures that people brought from other countries. Little slices of home in the New World.
It didn't take him long to drive into Chinatown. So, he combed it for the Japanese district. And when he found it, he slowed down until he found a ramen stand. Parking his bike, he adjusted his bag on his back. It was a simple stand, paper curtains that separated the street from the eatery. Small counter with the kitchen not far behind. Four stools on the customer side. Walking in, green eyes landed on the cook as he respectfully bowed. The cook seemed confused, but returned the bow. His confusion turned to near shock when the blond teenager started speaking fluent Japanese to him. But, he collected his cool and the pair shared a small conversation.
The cook's specialty ramen was ordered, but Red Star made sure to specify he didn't want it to be spicy. The old man chuckled as he nodded, beginning to cook for him. Leonid sat on one of the stools, putting his bag at his feet. It didn't take long for a rather large bowl to be presented to him. Red Star reached into his bag and pulled out a pair of red chopsticks. He gave the steam from the bowl a mighty inhale as he began to salivate. Nodding his head, he dug right in. Slurping noodles, vegetables, and pork into his mouth.
It had been awhile since he had enjoyed a good bowl of ramen.
Elenaphant
Both were something to consider.
For now, however, President Putin assured the people of Russia, and the rest of the world, that the alien threat was no longer a concern. And, if they returned, Red Star would be there to send them packing. Then, there were rounds of applause. Autograph signings. Visiting sick children. He didn't really enjoy press conferences, or the publicity. However, connecting with the people made everything worthwhile. He shared tears with the people who lost loved ones in the skirmish. A few laughs with soldiers who fought alongside him. They were his people. And, on presidential orders, he had to leave them.
Mid-flight, the President called him up, telling him there was a bank account set up for him when he landed. A start of a commission for saving the country, on top of being a representative, and superhero, for the Russian Federation. So, when he landed, he got his card and made his way to a Ducatti dealership and bought himself a motorcycle. With his bag on his back, he took to the city streets. Getting a feel for the diversity. That was one of the things he appreciated about American Culture. It didn't exist. There was just the traditions and cultures that people brought from other countries. Little slices of home in the New World.
It didn't take him long to drive into Chinatown. So, he combed it for the Japanese district. And when he found it, he slowed down until he found a ramen stand. Parking his bike, he adjusted his bag on his back. It was a simple stand, paper curtains that separated the street from the eatery. Small counter with the kitchen not far behind. Four stools on the customer side. Walking in, green eyes landed on the cook as he respectfully bowed. The cook seemed confused, but returned the bow. His confusion turned to near shock when the blond teenager started speaking fluent Japanese to him. But, he collected his cool and the pair shared a small conversation.
The cook's specialty ramen was ordered, but Red Star made sure to specify he didn't want it to be spicy. The old man chuckled as he nodded, beginning to cook for him. Leonid sat on one of the stools, putting his bag at his feet. It didn't take long for a rather large bowl to be presented to him. Red Star reached into his bag and pulled out a pair of red chopsticks. He gave the steam from the bowl a mighty inhale as he began to salivate. Nodding his head, he dug right in. Slurping noodles, vegetables, and pork into his mouth.
It had been awhile since he had enjoyed a good bowl of ramen.
Elenaphant