Three Sentence Ficathon

"It could be interesting," Ivy said lazily, grinning as Stanislav whirled on him, "just saying," he picked up his rifle, sighting along the barrel; it should be fine, but if it was out of true after he'd used it to bash someone in the face. . . "change of scenery, change of pace. . ."

"He wants us to go to a school." Stanislav said, flipping one of his knives over and over in his fingers, eyes sharp as the blade. "Some sort of watchdog duty, not exactly what we're cut out for." He made a moue of distaste. "Ivy-"

"Sokurov!"

Stanislav stilled for half a second, tense, and Ivy snorted. "Think he wants you or me?" he asked idly, snapping the rifle back together and setting it aside with a pat, picking up the second.

"A change of pace could be interesting," Stanislav said evenly, "the school is some ridiculous boarding school in the middle of the Pacific, isn't it?"