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[CLOSED] hey, neighbor!
Who: Vasiliy Y. Ardankin (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
m1895) & Aziraphale (bibliophilicbells)
When: Backdated to early January.
Where: 212/214 Mockingbird Lane.
What: Everyone loves shoveling snow!
Warnings: Smoking, some initial toxic masculinity/transphobia possible in internal monologue.
m1895) & Aziraphale (bibliophilicbells)When: Backdated to early January.
Where: 212/214 Mockingbird Lane.
What: Everyone loves shoveling snow!
Warnings: Smoking, some initial toxic masculinity/transphobia possible in internal monologue.
[ The man shoveling out the half-cleared driveway of the Ardankin household cuts quite an image: he stands in the calf-deep snow in a blue tartan robe meant for indoor wear and pajama bottoms, a cigarette hanging from his lips as he bends forward and mechanically chucks load after load of snow onto whichever bank on the side of the driveway is closer to where he's working. Occasionally the shovel's broad plastic lip scrapes across the cement with a grating clash, but it doesn't affect the good clip he's working at, not necessarily indicative of experience or form but certainly suggesting enough upper body strength to compensate for both of those things in the short term.
Vasiliy pauses to straighten up, his back cracking as he does so, and removes the cigarette from his mouth with an ungloved hand to cough a few times as he rests a forearm on the handle of the upright shovel. Early-morning exertion's never been his favorite, but he can do it, if he has to. He dabs a modest amount of dampness from his brow with the arm of his robe and turns back to the edge of the driveway only to pause when he sees the middle-aged neighbor struggling to do the same thing.
Shit. He was really kind of hoping to just go inside and finish the third cigarette of the morning and have some black tea and warm up, but it wouldn't be right to leave someone past his physical prime to toil away at a pretty long driveway when he clearly doesn't know what to do. Vasiliy sighs, replaces his cigarette, and picks up the shovel again, walking around the steep bank he's created to cut through the snow on their side yards with high, deliberate steps while waving an arm to get the man's attention. ]
Do you need help?
Vasiliy pauses to straighten up, his back cracking as he does so, and removes the cigarette from his mouth with an ungloved hand to cough a few times as he rests a forearm on the handle of the upright shovel. Early-morning exertion's never been his favorite, but he can do it, if he has to. He dabs a modest amount of dampness from his brow with the arm of his robe and turns back to the edge of the driveway only to pause when he sees the middle-aged neighbor struggling to do the same thing.
Shit. He was really kind of hoping to just go inside and finish the third cigarette of the morning and have some black tea and warm up, but it wouldn't be right to leave someone past his physical prime to toil away at a pretty long driveway when he clearly doesn't know what to do. Vasiliy sighs, replaces his cigarette, and picks up the shovel again, walking around the steep bank he's created to cut through the snow on their side yards with high, deliberate steps while waving an arm to get the man's attention. ]
Do you need help?