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Typically Kazamir wouldn't be caught dead at any party (especially one that Cinna was hosting) but he figured coming here would be the only way to get out of his house and away from his family. Especially if Anastas decided to pop in.
As always he came with a large flask of whiskey in his inside jacket pocket (just in case duty called) and happily helped himself into Cinna's mansion without ringing the doorbell. "Probably in the mob," he said to himself in Russian as he looked around feeling like he was on an episode of Cribs. Kazamir made his way into Cinna's kitchen without making any effort to greet anyone but instead wasted no time helping himself to whatever food looked the most appealing.
Lighting up a cigarette near a window while he looked out at the ocean, he took a bite out of a slice of pizza he'd found. He had cracked the nearby window in an attempt to be somewhat courteous while he sniveled at the sight of the ocean being practically her backyard. "I fucking hate Miami," he mumbled to himself, again, in Russian.
As always he came with a large flask of whiskey in his inside jacket pocket (just in case duty called) and happily helped himself into Cinna's mansion without ringing the doorbell. "Probably in the mob," he said to himself in Russian as he looked around feeling like he was on an episode of Cribs. Kazamir made his way into Cinna's kitchen without making any effort to greet anyone but instead wasted no time helping himself to whatever food looked the most appealing.
Lighting up a cigarette near a window while he looked out at the ocean, he took a bite out of a slice of pizza he'd found. He had cracked the nearby window in an attempt to be somewhat courteous while he sniveled at the sight of the ocean being practically her backyard. "I fucking hate Miami," he mumbled to himself, again, in Russian.