Author's Note : There are five 'errors' in the story at this point, people. Meaning there are five things, so far, that are or are not so obviously wrong from our historic standpoint. There will be more, but as of now there are only those five. You can't expect this reality to have a large number of murderous people who can and will put a bullet through other people's heads without changing a few things.
Two we already went through, Adolph Hitler being assassinated and the existence of Mafia Land/a wide and encompassing underworld trade on violence. They are two of the major main ones, which had a knock on effect to spread around and result in the rest. Another got spotted, we weren't near the point Sonya realizes it on her own but I did reshuffle a few things to put it in now. There are two more, which are technically related to the same sector/ideal/progress and one even spawned a mini-result that's already been noted but not realized. I was supposed to put that warning in back when we started this part of the story, with Hitler getting whacked. Again, very sorry. I'm backdating this warning and will put it in on that chapter's AN by my next post.
Which one got spotted? The euro existing in the 1960s. How and why that happened to the point it is a valid currency in this story is now our opening scene. Yes, we got derailed again, though this one is my fault. Your author is a scatterbrained twit some days.
Additionally, AO3 has the 'clean' copy of this story for downloading and reading later purposes. I don't put up Author's Notes on that one unless it's story-wise corrections relevant like that warning up there, but I do have that nifty comment system over there so I answer questions more often.
Again, "this" is English and "this" is whatever other language is begin spoken which unless otherwise noted, is Russian.
Edited (4/25/2017) - Minor story corrections and additions.
Edit (3/19/2018) - Final formatting and minor corrections.
Edited (9/6/2018) - Minor corrections.
Russian Roulette : Reloaded
XCI-C
XCI (Monday the 16th of August, 1965. Mafia Land Ferry.)
Cherep might not be disembarking when their ship docked at Mafia Land, but Sonya would be.
Mostly to change money from one currency to another, the Soviet Union's ruble to American dollars, and partially to check in just in case Tatiana sent her something. She hadn't, but no news was good news in their business.
She got semi-decent rates at the money changers that had set up shop right in the middle of the arrival port terminal, though she lost about ten kopeks per ruble to switch a decent amount over. Technically she was trading a ruble for ninety-three cents and due to the slight imbalance, she got a small amount of her euros swapped over to make up the difference.
With their traveling funds ready to go, Sonya returned to the ship. It really was merely a stopover rather than an actual destination so there wasn't a whole lot of time left.
It wasn't until she got back to the berth she was sharing with Cherep that she cracked open a few of the brochures that had been available in the currency exchange branch. Money laundering wasn't a skill she ever expected to know herself, but it could be interesting to see what services the island had for it.
Then the modern European history she studied as Rachel came back with a vengeance and gave her a headache.
As far as she had known, studied, and then got a degree in another life; the euro hadn't been in circulation until just before the twenty-first century. It had been an idea suggested just after World War One, the very forerunner of the attempts to simplify the various currencies Europe was the European Unit of Account. That had only happened in the late 70s, which had been followed by the European Currency Unit four years later until the actual currency named 'euro' came into being on the first of January 1999.
Yet… Sonya had been using euros since their first Mafia Land visit, nearly four years ago. It was practically the only currency the various shops and services on the island used, though certain places could make change in other ones by request.
She picked through several more brochures, which were pretty much mostly things the island's various banks offered as services. Offshore accounts, round-robin investments for the actual laundering of cash, the currency exchange and their current rates, advisement for other countries and their tax laws, a couple warnings for counterfeiters about trying to exchange fakes on Mafia land.
It was only when she reached the few handouts on various denominations available and where they were accepted that she got any sort of answer for the euro question.
The 'euro' was billed as a mafia-wide approved fixed currency, something that had taken some effort to implement but allowed a standard rate to be enforced for certain services.
Apparently, that had once been a problem. Certain merchants/services had been competing to be cheap and affordable but only if you paid in their currencies of choice. The 'new' euro was claimed to have fixed that, even though the blonde thief knew of a French restaurant that rather preferred being paid in francs if possible and tended to give a slight discount if so.
How much all of that was true or not was questionable, as her only source was currently a Mafia Land flyer for it, but it billed the implementation as a 1957 occurrence.
Which beat out what Rachel had known as the first implemented version of a spanning European currency, the Unit of Account, by about twenty years. It wasn't entirely widespread, but enough so that if you traveled in Europe the best bet was to carry euros on you unless you knew what country you would wander into next.
Sonya tucked the fold out into her current leisure book, trying to adjust to that.
What else had a widely active mafia influenced?
As far as she had been able to look, there wasn't anything else that stood out in history… though, of course, the 'euro' was probably modern history and not in older editions of textbooks for the subject.
…or as modern as possible given that the Storm-Cloud was somehow living in a variation of Rachel's history.
She sighed and gave up on worrying about it, as there was nothing she could do nor was there anything she had to do about it. The euro just was, thirty-forty years before it should have become a thing.
Another Berlin Wall thing, from the look of it. It had happened, a hell of a lot sooner than she had expected, but at least it was a good thing.
Rather, a thing that helped ensure she wasn't getting underpaid for her work rather than a 'for the good of Europe and preventing WW3' thing.
"Hey, Sonya? Why… are there fake passports and identification papers being given out?"
She broke out of her thoughts, peering at the paperwork Cherep had walked into their stateroom with. He had two passports, what seemed to be French birth certificates, and was fingering a driver's license that looked to be issued in the same country.
"Huh. I wasn't sure if they would get done that fast."
He gave her a suspicious look, cracking one of the passports open to compare the names and dates given. "It's me… but I'm sure my name isn't 'Charles Monraeu'… and I'm sure I'm not born in France."
"Of course, you're not. It's a name close enough to your own you can answer to and French is a language we speak." She left her luggage alone next to her bed and stalked over to snag her own fake passport. "Mafia Land has an arrangement with certain ports and port authorities around the world. This is kind of like a mafia work visa, in a way. It'll let us into the country for a certain amount of time, until the fakes are removed from their immigration database when said time runs out and we need to be gone."
Her brother's expression was a fair cross between bemused and incredulous. "Really? They're going to just let us wander in and out of the country… just like that?"
"No. They're going to let me wander in and out of the country for a hefty price, you're just along for the ride."
Mafia Land was pretty much the height of 'international' in the underworld. It could work as a smuggling point for all sorts of different things, but the main use was getting in and out of countries in a fast hurry.
It might be cheaper and at least for long term to do it on your own, but if you needed speed Mafia Land's ship routes were the best way.
"I think you've blown whatever faith I had in international border patrols."
"Oh good. At least I did something this week."
XCII (Thursday the 19th of August, 1965. Skidaway Island, Chatham County, Georgia, United States of America.)
Cherep's deadpan expression as they moved through the mafia version of immigration was a work of art. Given Sonya had pretty much done everything from steal to beat the tar out of fellow Mafiya brats in front of him… that was saying something.
Both sets of passports got looked at and the fakes stamped, their real ones secreted away in a false pocket of her luggage. Their fake paperwork got verified as coming up 'legal', a short reminder given on the deadline they had to be out of the country by, then they were released into the southern edge of the state of Georgia.
"If you really want to lose faith in humanity, I could tell you that no one there was actually a legal representative of the US government. They are from the mob that control the drug trade and smuggling rings in this part of the country, who get paid a decent amount to let this kind of thing happen." She informed him in French, smirking at his less than impressed look. "Oh, come on, Charles. It's probably not the most illegal thing you've ever done."
The thief's French was attracting a bit of attention, curious more than suspicious, but not nearly as much as her supposedly native Russian would have. Her fellow Cloud, having already been warned repeatedly about speaking it, responded in the same language.
"Again, not helping… Sarah." He pulled a face at her given alias, grabbing the door handle before she could. "Who came up with these names?"
"Trust me, they do get worse if you try to complain."
Mafia people either had no sense of humor or had a very twisted, strange one. She was just happy there was some measure in place that ensured at least initials remained the same.
'Sarah Noel' wasn't the best name she had ever gotten stuck with using that service, but it wasn't the worst either. She really preferred the 'Serra Novae' identity she used in Italy.
They were posing as a couple, just simply because she didn't want to dye her hair purple to make the cover work as siblings. The purple fading would turn pink with her blonde hair, and she didn't want to go around with pink hair for a couple months until it faded the rest of the way or grew out.
Trying to figure out how to bleach Cherep's hair was entirely more effort than Sonya really wanted to bother with.
"Good morning! How can I help such a lovely couple?"
Blinking and turning her gaze from her supposed 'significant other' to the salesman with a very painful looking smile, the thief tried for her own awkward smile. "Yes? We are here to rent an automobile. We will not need it longer than a month."
"Oh good, you do speak English."
"Hey, can we get a sports car here?"
"Well… one of you do."
She gave the salesman a smaller but more real smile, backhanding her brother in the gut maybe a touch to hard. "Excuse me a moment, sir. We do not need a damn muscle car for this trip."
The man gave an awkward head bob, hesitated for a moment, then wandered off to prepare some paperwork for them.
"If you're going to be… 'moving' something in a fast hurry we might." He informed her haughtily, sneaking a couple glances out to the parking lot and all the shiny cars sitting in the sunlight they had walked past. "Might as well have one ready and not need it than get chased down driving something old and clunky."
"Moving is the best term you can come up with?" Sonya scoffed lightly but knew herself well enough to start calculating out how much she'd have to shell out for his desired model of car. "And Charles, my work is not so shoddy it will require us to pull out like that. I'm insulted you even suggested it."
"Sorry, sorry." Neither looking nor sounding very contrite, Cherep scratched the back of his head and tried for a very charming smile. "Please? For me? Oh… for my birthday!"
"I gave you your present already."
"Ah… miss? I need you to fill a few forms out. Only a formality, really, but the company needs to know where you're going, and a few insurance liability papers signed by the… uh, driver."
The blonde thief frowned at him, casting her fellow Cloud a glance of his own before walking over to see what it was they wanted her to fill out. "I don't suppose you have something 'sporty'? My boyfriend wants something fast, you see."
The salesman might be painfully ill-equipped to deal with French speaking customers, one of the reasons why they weren't in Louisiana, but he was still a man trying to sell a rental car for a company. He grinned like a shark, probably thinking of conning them into renting something highly expensive and not suited for long travel plans.
However, he was dealing with a professional thief. She knew cheating, dishonesty, and lies just as much as the next thief.
Sonya got a Cadillac Eldorado convertible instead of the compact Buick Skylark he tried to foist off on them, mainly on the tiny detail of luggage space. Which honestly wasn't much due to the fact they both were convertibles, but at least the Cadillac had more.
She also had to pay a lot more than she had planned on for their security deposit, but it was entirely worth it to see Cherep light up when she pointed out their red and white car for the month.
"You're driving."
"Damn right I am… wait, why?" He paused in the middle of loading the trunk to suspiciously look at her. "You don't want to drive?"
"We used your driver's license to rent the damn thing, and I don't have one nor do I know how to drive." She informed him flatly, sliding into the passenger seat. "But please remember they drive on the other side of the road here."
Sonya did know how to drive… just not with a stick. She couldn't work a clutch and had yet to get Dmitriy to teach her either.
There were automatic transmissions in some of the rental cars, but not the one they got. She supposed that was something her mechanically inclined foster brother could teach her too, though she didn't know when he went in to get a license himself.
Probably at the same time the Rain had gotten his done, actually.
XCIII (Wednesday the 15th of November, 1965. World's Fair, Corona Park, Queens, New York, United States of America.)
"That's what you're here for?" Cherep asked lightly, eating a rather quick lunch as they watched the reveal of the Programma 101. "That's pretty cool, actually."
"Mmm." Sonya wasn't listening to him very hard, she was eyeing the pavilion the Olivetti Company was using as their stage speculatively.
He wasn't surprised, or really bothered by that.
Making his peace with what she did for a living and how she went around about it had been somewhat difficult for him at first, but Lisa had put a lot of effort into trying to get him to understand their culture as criminals and how his foster family had been brought up. He might try to change it now and again, but it was her life and although he was her best friend he couldn't decide how to live that life for her.
A tabletop computer, though.
What he thought of when someone said 'computer' was a large room sized machine, crunching away at some vastly complicated and difficult equation. That was sort of the thing a university or a government used for things like the space programs, or maybe a large company that dealt with sciences.
Having that associated with that little typewriter sized computer?
Well, he could see why Adrik wanted one. Enough so to ask the blonde teenager to steal him one.
The price tag attached explained why they hadn't bothered considering a legal way to get one, other than what the slim youth had tried to gather on his own before Tatiana suggested their little sister. Three thousand and five hundred dollars was a grand and a half more than the new Ford Mustang would cost.
No, he didn't specifically look at the ones available at the dealership near their hotel… it just happened to look that way. Salesmen were pushy, pushy people even if you didn't understand one word they spoke out of twenty.
Cherep figured this was probably the end of their little vacation/road trip. That was Sonya's target, which she had to chase around for half a year and halfway around the world to find. She'd probably greatly appreciate finally getting this whole job over with.
"Right… well, now that I know it's here and ready to go, what else did you want to see?"
He started slightly, more than enough for her to catch him doing it and give him a strange look.
"Charles?"
"Uh… ha, Sarah… I thought you're here for… just that?"
The thief sitting next to him gave him a flat stare that questioned his sanity. "We're also here to sightsee and wander around like tourists. Which, may I point out, we are."
The secret Cloud Flame user of the family coughed sheepishly, quirking a wry smirk for her. "I thought you'd go and… um. Yeah."
Rolling her eyes at him, his blonde little sister got to her feet and pulled him up by his arm. "No, absolutely not. Not the very day they reveal it, I'm not stupid. End of the week at earliest, when news has a chance to circle around and there would be more suspects than just who is in this crowd."
…so, he had the rest of the week?
He could deal with that.
"I swear to high hell though, you make us go through 'It's a Small World' one more time…"
"It's cool." Cherep protested, grinning at the very disgruntled image Sonya always presented when he managed to badger her into going around again. "I still haven't spotted the Russians in that yet."
"They're not there, the US is at war with the Soviet Union… however 'cold' it's all been." She sounded disgusted, probably at the false advertising.
She had no room to complain, given they were 'falsely advertising' the fact they were a couple.
Which he thought was kind of weird since they were foster siblings, but she had put some effort in explaining that siblings that didn't look alike would be more memorable than just a couple out to see the attractions.
The disbelieving glance she shot his hair was entirely uncalled for, they'd seen all sorts of different colors in the first week of being in America. Including the rarer blues and greens, which he thought deserved her scorn more than his purple coloring. Pinks, purples, and reds were not exactly rare hair and eye colors to have in the Soviet Union.
They were sharing a hotel bed, as part of that 'cover' as a couple, but his standoffish baby sister was more likely to whack him with a pillow if he stole all the covers off her than cuddle. She at least ensured she wouldn't give him a bloody nose when she did, but it still surprised him now and again to get a semi-hard lump of fabric forcefully introduced to his face in the middle of the night.
"Well, if we have the rest of the week… how about the General Motors display?"
"That one is supposed to be rather brilliant." Allowed the professional thief, glancing around to see what landmarks there were near and comparing them to her little copy of the park map. "It's back a way, you can rubberneck at the Ford display again when we go past it."
"That is a fantastic car, Sarah. I don't care what ribbing you do, I like looking at it."
"You and your damn toys. I thought it would get harder to distract you as we got older, but no… all I have to do is ensure you have something mechanical at hand and you're as happy as a clam, aren't you?"
"Yeah, pretty much." Cherep didn't care about the mickey she could take out of him for it, he was a kid at heart and that was still an awesome car after everything was said and done.
XCIV (Sunday the 3rd of October, 1965. Mafia Land.)
One Programma 101 safely shipped via underworld routes and Cherep on his way home to Moscow later, and Sonya managed to finally finish the favor for Adrik and Tatiana.
Stealing even an armful of technology proved to be almost stupidly easy, compared to the mafia jobs she was currently getting into. Her next two jobs for Mafia Land proved harder, though those targets didn't have a few million people wandering in and out of them daily.
The Russian thief didn't rightly care much either, getting the storage unit assigned to her and taking possession of the key alone finally ticked off the last of her boxes that needed to be dealt with before leaving Moscow finally.
There were a couple of other things still pending, but those weren't majorly important in any way.
Just… a little more than personal. She'd have to go see what time Arseniy had free to help her deal with her biological father.
She finished up her Mafia Land business the second week of December, so instead of immediately going and arranging passage on a ship heading to the mainland of Eurasia and possibly catching the start of her older sister's visit home she staked out a good café and cracked open yet another book.
She had scouted around the bookstores nearby the in city of Queens for a much more modern history book for Europe than she had back in Moscow. The euro question was still bothering her, and she had intended to look harder for any more differences popping up.
It was questionable if she would catch any. Fifteen years since Rachel breathed her last in a grimy and dark alleyway and Sonya's memory of that life was an iffy thing. Especially if she went four years with using a currency that shouldn't have existed for another two decades at the very least.
Additionally, she was pretty sure there was no such thing as a mafia history book. Any changes influenced by the underworld residents of the world would probably be untraceable by her, unless she knew of the people involved personally.
Like that Programma 101. Had she stolen it out of the Olivetti Company manufactory, it was entirely possible it wouldn't have been marketed this year… or even more worrying, at all. Not if there had already been dire questions on if it was something they could sell.
Which… would mean some probably bad things would be delaying the computer market.
Therefore, Sonya was never doing another 'cutting edge technology' job. Way too much stress over if she should steal or not for her.
She ignored it when someone took the chair opposite of her at the café table she was sitting at. If it was Renato, he knew how to get her attention. If it wasn't, she didn't care.
There was no one else on Mafia Land that she could count as more than just a casual acquaintance. Pitiful, but true.
"A history book? That's a new one."
Then again, Renato was a little older than her and probably did know something about it. The Russian girl glanced up at him, just to check he was in a good mood and likely to answer one of her random questions.
Then promptly wished she kept her eyes down, because he was flirting with the now blushing waitress again as he placed his order.
…so, probably in a good mood.
"Renato? What do you know of the 'euro'?" Asked the Storm-Cloud as he sat back to watch the progress of his espresso through the windows of the café. "How it came to be, that is. I cannot find it in my book."
She would admit it was a very odd question, but they did get paid in that unit of currency. Euro was also the major denomination Mafia Land used, alongside the dollar, yen, renminbi, pound, and ruble. One was sometimes favored more in certain sections than others, but all of them could be used with minimal griping.
"It's called the European Unit of Account, euro is just the shorthand nickname it acquired since it was implemented." At first that looked to be as much as he wanted to speak on the subject, but something occurred to him and he shot her a sly smirk. "It was suggested back in the nineteen-twenties, didn't get traction as an idea until after World War Two when the Treaty of Sicily was signed off on nearly three decades and a half later."
Sonya took a hard look at her book. No wonder she couldn't find the Treaty of Rome, it hadn't been held in Rome.
"Okay… so what am I missing?"
"That Italian Mafia Famiglia you wish to avoid were key supporters of it. They got the meeting of the first European Economic Union to use the Island of Sicily as their meeting place."
Vongola had something to do with the euro?
The Russian thief figured that explained why she was having such difficulties trying to dig something up on the subject. "I am just trying to avoid irritating them, not avoid them entirely. Freelancers do not tend to do well when against a structured group like that."
Renato only huffed at her and her reasoning, giving the waitress a charming smile when she arrived with his drink. "You know, this thing you have against Italia. I'm going to feel hurt if you keep it up."
"Ivrea is a beautiful city, and the Turin region was very pretty as I passed through it."
He shot her a flat look. "That's it? Not trying very hard, are we?"
"Mmm… no, not really. Only been once, you see." The teenager shut her book. She still had questions, but it wasn't very likely she'd get answers now.
"Maybe I should show you around myself? You really can't see much of the country without a decent guide." Suggested the hitman slowly, looking a bit more devious than such a suggestion should warrant.
She wrinkled her nose as she thought of what that would likely result in. She might be able to travel with Cherep halfway across the world, but she could also hit him when he was being annoying.
"I think… I'll pass. Thank you."
XCV (Monday the 27th of December, 1965. Moscow, Russian Soviet Federative Socialist Republic.)
Tatiana's visit home happened the very last week of December, she blew in and practically abducted Sonya to go and get their tattoos touched up.
Which, looking at her arm before she pulled on a coat, the younger thief figured she really should've done a year or two ago.
"So… question." The slightly taller and much more settled seeming redhead spoke up, seeming both happy and sad to be wandering around Moscow again. "Clouds, huh?"
She sighed slightly, long since resigned to the topic of this conversation and how best to defend her choices. "I am… more of what one thinks of when someone says 'Cloud Flame user', he isn't. Therefore, if the clan would need one of us, it would be best to be me."
Her older sister slid her a sideways look in response, humming noncommittally.
That was a horrible, horrible tactic Lisa had them trained up to spill everything when she pulled. "How's Galina?"
"Oh no, we're not going to talk about my Lightning. We're talking about your fellow Cloud." Tatiana made a face, probably thinking of said Lightning. "We're going to borrow the green gems though, just so you know."
"You can deal with Arseniy about that." Sonya patted her foster sister on the shoulder when she pouted. "Whole reason I left them with him, you know."
The Sun user shot her a sour look, grabbing her by the wrist and dragging them both into a side door the Storm-Cloud had probably passed hundreds of times before without giving it a second thought.
The man who greeted them from another room before joining them was likely Tatiana's tattooist, like how Valya back in Saratov was the blonde thief's. His kitchen was set up for tattooing, from what the sisters could see from the doorway.
Pushing her little sister forward, the redhead shot the man a brilliant smile. "She's been neglecting her artwork, Boris. No longer a little kitty, she needs a bigger cat."
"Well then… let's see the damage." Boris gave her a bland smile and gestured to the kitchen chair apparently waiting for their type of customers.
The former pickpocket sighed, stripping off her coat and thin sweater so they could see her faded cat and moon tattoo.
Her kitten had greyed out, after nearly five years it was no longer a black cat but an almost greenish grey. The crystal moon that had cradled it was now less crystal and more 'rock' in looks.
The tattooist clucked disapprovingly, fetching one of his many binders of designs and flipping through it. Tatiana reached over and stroked the faded kitten on her little sister's bicep. "Poor kitty, we'll make you a big cat soon."
"Please tell me you are not talking to and petting my tattoo."
Their host interrupted whatever would have been her reply, showing the girls his art collection for 'cats, jewels, and nighttime' themes. Thieves, jewel heists, and overnight work, in other terms.
Sonya admitted, privately, he might just be better than her old tattooist.
"What else are you good for?" Her older sister asked as she paged through the designs, settling herself in a kitchen chair and cradling her chin in one hand. "I'm sure you can get a rose like me too by now."
"Paw prints." She was a traveling thief, after all. "Do you want to put our Dying Will Flame types on it too? I'm pretty sure we could work it in here."
"I already have it." The redhead gave her a smug smile, stripping out of her outerwear to show it off.
The Sun was an image given to those that brazenly worked in the daylight, which Tatiana certainly qualified for and Sonya could probably get. The only times she had ever worked overnight was when she was working with her foster sister on one of her heists.
The younger thief eventually selected a much larger tattoo design that what she had already, mostly to cover up the bare beginnings of her tattoo work.
The moon mostly stayed, being recolored to a lighter purple shade instead, half concealed by a darker purple and red cloud. Her curled kitten got covered by a wash of nighttime sky in the 'emptier' part of the design, a much larger cat pawing its way across skin-shaded 'snow' or 'sand' into a green thicket of similarly uncolored roses near the middle of her bicep. A blush of dawn backlighting both the horizon and the underside of her cloud.
It was a lot of work for a tattooist and took up several hours to carve and ink into her skin.
The safecracker merely needed to touch up the colors of her own. Getting her own uncolored roses filled in with red.
They tipped Boris a fair bit, since redesigning another's tattoo work was a lot of effort. The Sun was sure it would turn out well once it healed up, as well.
To prove it, she covered Sonya's arm with a wash of Sun Flames to seal her skin and brighten in the inks.
"So… Cherep." Tatiana continued when they were on their way back to their childhood home.
"Yes."
"Why?"
"At first, it was merely because he wouldn't do too well if he got shoved into our little corner of the neighborhood and expected to swim." Started the Storm-Cloud slowly, dredging up her long-forgotten motives regarding her best friend as she flexed the last of the soreness out of her arm. "I still don't think he would like it much. Then it turned to preventing him from getting taken advantage of, which he is still way too nice to avoid that happening."
"And now?"
"He has not expressed any desire to join, so I will continue to do what I've been doing for him."
Cherep could probably make a go of being a Mafiya man now, if he wasn't so dead set on joining a circus and becoming a stuntman. If she did allow her clan the knowledge and a way to try holding on to him, it was likely he would resent the chains they would insist on.
He might then resent her, which was not something she even wanted to entertain the idea of.
XCVI (Saturday the 8th of January, 1966. Arseniy & Lisa's home, Moscow, Russian Soviet Federative Socialist Republic.)
Having all three of them home, even if it was only a two-week long visit, proved to them all that they were outgrowing living together and their childhood home. Cherep and Sonya might still actually have bedrooms, but they did pack up the stuff the youngest thief would store for them all in preparation of the last two moving sometime this upcoming year.
The house was slowly going back to the way it had looked when the sisters first moved in to be fostered under Arseniy and Lisa. Tatiana claimed it was odd to sleep there when it didn't look remotely as it had when she was living there.
She also told them the highlights of getting her gang set up using their own efforts and supplies in a different city, even if it was temporary. In return the Storm-Cloud told her the story of how far she had to chase Adrik's favor, and that Cherep had gone with her.
It was halfway through Tatiana's leave taking that Dmitriy showed up, in one of the clan's automobiles no less.
"Five ruble on it being Flame related." The Sun informed the younger thief, smirking slightly as she hefted the case of possible Lightning gemstones over one shoulder.
"Sucker's bet, Tatiana."
Sonya had to agree with Cherep on that one. Sighing, she gave her elder sister a hug goodbye and went to see what had the Rain coming for her.
The rumors that spread of the Zolotovs having a Rain had resulted in a family taking their very… gifted young son in to them. An attempt to both safeguard said son and figure out how the hell he kept on conjuring animals and images out of thin air.
Mist, the blonde cat burglar thought… and semi-decent parents.
At least the brat was luckier than her brother and herself had been in that.
On the drive to headquarters, Dmitriy revealed he had finally gained some conscious control over his Rain Flames. The kid apparently had freaked out about maybe talking to someone that knew what was going on, again the parents had tried a doctor first when he mentioned a few strange things. That doctor's shady connections went for the Mafiya, so instead of more shady types he sent them on to the only syndicate he knew of that might be able to help.
The Rain had calmed the kid down using said Flames, only to realize his jade wasn't on him at the time when leaving to fetch her. A mental misstep, but one Sonya took note of as a working method.
Not that the baby Mist would need that kind of information. He was already spamming his Flames like a broken sieve, from all reports.
The Storm-Cloud took the last five minutes of that trip to mentally asset herself. Though annoyed this had interrupted Tatiana's farewell, she hadn't immediately thought bad of the poor kid. She had instead thought him lucky, maybe a little sourly but she wasn't a very sociable or decent person at heart.
Not looking too good on the 'Cloud and Mist equals hate' issue.
Maybe that was a personal problem. Mists reportedly tended for flamboyant or misleading, neither of which Clouds tended to understand or appreciate. She certainly didn't, it gave her a headache. A tendency for dislike wasn't the same as an assurance of it.
Dmitriy pulled into the garage he probably took the car out of, and Sonya let herself out while making a mental note to get him to teach her to drive stick-shift sometime this year.
She got very distracted from asking him about that, because she was mostly sure there hadn't been plants growing out of the walls when he had left. Judging by the swearing going on, it had to be a new feature.
A new Misty feature.
The blonde touched one lightly, figured it wasn't going to try killing her for it, and used a sharp jolt of Storm Flames on it. The only word that did the result justice was popped as her Flames ate the weaker Mist ones.
It also prevented her small amount of red Flames from trying to eat anything else because the Mist Flames immediately disappeared once her Storm ate its stability away.
Bonus.
The Rain that drove her here started copying her, but his Flames only had the Mist Constructs fading from where they touched rather than the destruction hers caused.
Leaving him to it, she started in on freeing up a way inside. Whoever the Mist kid was, the only fact that he wasn't trying to hurt the Zolotov vory was probably preventing them from lashing out in response to the hemming in a full corridor of their own headquarters.
He probably panicked without the Rain at hand to keep him calm, and probably tried barricading himself into a room or something. Sonya in fact found him in a closet, huddled in the back corner and about crying his eyes out.
"Stop it, fear is only making it worse."
The snotty little brat jerked his head up, giving her a watery and sour glare from red rimmed brown eyes. "Like you know what's going on. I don't want to leave my parents, I don't want these things to happen, I just want to go home!"
She reached out with a flat expression, and one hand popped yet another of his illusions growing out of the closet's walls with a palm full of red fire. "You, I, and your parents will be talking about this, and there is no way in hell we're taking you from them as you are neither an orphan nor a child at risk that needs a new home in the first place. I'm insulted you even suggested that."
He stared, first at her hand then at her. "You can make it go away?"
"I can Disintegrate your Constructions, yes."
The kid apparently decided she was his new best friend, crawling out of the closet a lot more cheerful than the Storm-Cloud had found him and even giving her a hug around her waist.
She was flat out confused. Her Flame had proved to be a threat to his, why the hell was she so acceptable?
XCVII (Monday the 17th of January, 1966. Zolotov Headquarters, Moscow, Russian Soviet Federative Socialist Republic.)
The boy's name was Samuil Usov Maximovich, baby Mist kid who scared himself into using his Flames after an incident with a half-feral dog tried attacking him.
Sonya admitted to herself that sounded better than her incident, she would've preferred the dog against three vory attacking her best friend.
The following week tasked every shred of social competence she had, and Dmitriy had to rescue her from a conversation more than once. Most of the talking between the baby Mist's parents and the Zolotov clan was done by the Sovietnik, their Pahkan's right hand and one of their boss' advisors.
The blonde thief had to figure out a semi-reliable way for the kid to keep on living with his parents but also get some help developing some type of control. Using Tatiana's rush-job search as their method of working through the gemstones available, they figured he did very well with both rubies and sapphires.
Better than either Rain or Cloud could make use of them, even.
She was again confused but took note of it anyways. Information was information, even if she wasn't sure what help or use she could put that to.
He didn't need the gemstone to Construct things, or to summon up his Flames at all. What it was good for was a physical reminder that it was possible for him to control everything he made.
His best result was with lapis lazuli, so Sonya fashioned him a necklace with a pendant of the mineral he could carry around with him.
He wore it on a leather band wrapped around his wrist like a bracelet instead, the brat.
Usov was proving to be a very wicked minded little Mist, badgering her on every scrap of information she ever managed to collect on his Flame type and how or why she managed her own control over hers. While somewhat annoying, it wasn't so much she minded answering his questions than the volume of queries he posed to her at once.
He was also all of six years of age, meaning he wouldn't get less annoying anytime soon and she wouldn't be allowed to swear near him for another few years yet.
The week proved to be very helpful in learning to control her own Storm Flames, as when Usov drew out an illusion he didn't intend to the former pickpocket got to pop them. It was still unwieldy, virulent fire that ate everything she touched with it, but she got to the point of being able to use just a dab to destroy Mist Flame Constructions.
She couldn't wait to try carving things again, wondering if she had just overpowered everything with Storm Flames because that was how Cloud Flames seemed to work and that was what she had started with.
The end of those eight days was when Usov stumbled onto a way to de-Construct his own illusions, once he felt safe enough to play with his ability more than freak out when it happened.
Meaning he didn't need a Storm Flame user around to pop what he didn't intend to create or a Rain to calm him down enough for the illusions to fade on their own.
It also freed him from Sonya's side, allowing him and his parents to return home.
Usov pouted at the news, insisting on giving the female teenager a hug goodbye. She nearly swore he did it just to make her twitch but he was also a little boy who had a very traumatic experience, so she put up with the touching. Also, his parents thought it was adorable he liked her so much.
They were also watching him hug her.
She could not win in that.
What she did manage was to insist Dmitriy should be the contact point for Usov. She was both the wrong type to help him develop much and intending on leaving Moscow soon herself. The first point getting her more leeway than the second unfortunately.
Little Mist brat did like the Rain himself, it was just that the Storm-Cloud had been the one to fetch him the second time he panicked and taught him what little they knew that made him so attached… Sonya was pretty sure that was how it went.
Mostly… maybe?
The incident didn't improve the Zolotov clan's regard for Dying Will Flame users, but it did make their Pahkan decide that having one at hand just in case was a good idea. When he took a hard look at what Flame users their clan had to them; the fact Dmitriy was already in place and the girls, even the new Lightning, on their way to supporting the clan from afar led him to think the Rain was the best one for that position.
Sonya snickered, only a touch guilty. The man she manipulated into the position mostly willingly rolled his eyes at her.
She supplied their clan's boss with the extra condensed research journal she had, tacking on that she would be sending in periodic updates via Arseniy if she ran across any more information and Dmitriy would update the Mist section when young Usov got there.
It was the first time she had met her crime boss, the man himself well over the age of fifty and currently in the middle of teaching his son how to manage their clan. Zolotov Milos Danilovich didn't hold himself as one of his vor or as a gentleman, he gave off the impression of a slightly violent-prone banker.
…or a loan shark. A very successful loan shark.
Then again, he ran a clan half made up out of thieves. The impression was probably either deliberate for the very action of dealing with his thieves or just how he was.
All in all, she liked him well enough. He was shrewd enough to know what she had been up to teaching Dmitriy how to be a Rain, and content to allow that effort free her from being needed at headquarters indefinitely.
The blonde had also pulled a lot of money for the clan in the last few years, chasing down the jewels to try focusing Flames through them. It bought her goodwill with her clan and her boss, enough so that she would be allowed to wander freely after her best friend.
Which, really, had been all that she had been after.
XCVIII (Tuesday the 1st of February, 1966. Moscow, Russian Soviet Federative Socialist Republic.)
"I do not see why we must be out right this moment." Sonya grouched at Cherep's back, following him down the icy road to wherever it was he wanted her to be.
"Circuses recruit mostly in their offseason, which is winter." He reminded her cheerily over his shoulder.
Point of fact, she disliked being cold. Since they lived in the USSR, she was generally cold most of the year. Thus, she tended to be snappish and irritable when outside during winter or spring.
Fall never really bothered her too much, somehow.
If her brother's circus panned out this time, then he would be set to leave with the onset of the spring thaw. Well… as much of a spring-thaw as possible in the early months of the year. Which for Moscow wasn't until mid-way through March, really.
This circus, the latest of her fellow Cloud's finds, was a bit larger than the others he had inquired around about and got invited to join. One of the 'Moscow Circus' branches, mostly made up of graduates of the Moscow's State College for Circus and Variety Arts but there were a few other performers scattered about.
It was a good size, never really had a major problem getting in and out of the Iron Curtain, affluent enough to afford wintering lodging for their actors, and likely well reputed enough so Sonya wouldn't be able to nix it easily.
Even if it was off-season for the circuses, that didn't mean there were lazing about instead of still practicing or performing. There were several amphitheaters within Moscow itself, some of which merely required a decent donation from the proceeds raked in over a night to be used. There was also the circus college, where performers could go and compare notes, practice, or find themselves an understudy or three.
The blonde thief had visited each, sometimes with Cherep dragging her along and sometimes just because of him but not with him. She did not understand his preoccupation with show business and becoming famous, because to her becoming famous, or rather infamous, was a bad thing.
Then again, she didn't really have to understand to support him doing it.
Cherep had gotten invited as a mechanic, more stagehand than performer but it was an in. The fact he had his own motorcycle and was perfectly willing to try his hand at stunt work was probably only a bonus. If they went with this that likely wouldn't happen until next year, when and if he developed an act or show for it or the circus master decided the act was needed.
"Cherep! My young friend. I take it this is the lovely Sophia?"
She very carefully didn't pull a face at the automatic assumption over her full name.
'Sonya' might be a nickname variation of Sophia, but it was on her damn birth certificate as Sonya. Since she could recall, her name had been Sonya though this life and she rather that didn't change if it didn't have to. It was difficult enough already, and she still responded to Rachel occasionally.
"Sonya, Master Liam. This is my little sister Sonya."
'Liam' was a very robust older man, with some very carefully arranged facial hair and very tattered 'work clothes'. He probably doubled as an announcer when the circus was on the road, not just the one that went out to promote the circus at any town or city they stopped at. The fact he was so willing to be seen out of his finery was a good sign, at least.
Her brother grinned good-naturedly at the older man jogging up to them, sheepishly scratching the back of his head while she gripped tight on her irritation.
If she blew this for him, he would sulk for days.
"We're here to poke around a little, and hopefully get her stamp of approval."
"Oh? And why would Miss Sonya's approval be needed?"
"Because Cherep is way, way too nice and someone has to stop others from taking advantage of him." The irritable Storm-Cloud gifted the man with a smile that was probably a little sharp around the edges.
Surprisingly, he didn't take offense.
Liam chuckled instead, waving them on to join him as he made for his troupe's lodging area. "Will you be coming with him then, little sister? You seem protective enough to chase after if you felt the need to."
"I likely will, yes. I do hope you don't mind."
"And you will not care even if I do, I take it." Stroking one of his rather fiercely waxed mustaches, he considered her as they walked. "So then… what can you do, Miss Sonya?"
"I am classically trained in ballet and dabbled a little in gymnastics."
Every female thief in the Zolotovs was given the same training, the grace and balance helped them get in and out of some rather compromising situations sometimes. Best of all it doubled as a cover, one that was both difficult to lie about having and an explanation over why they had some not so middle-class skills.
Sonya was tempted to tack on the sleight of hand skills she had, but this seemed to not be one of the shady circuses that allowed such things. She could adapt to that if so, though.
"I… also, can make simple jewelry. What I am interested in learning about is magic tricks, myself."
Liam smiled broadly at her, including Cherep as well even if he had remained silent as the two of them talked. "I think we might just be able to use you, Miss Sonya. If you don't mind performing in front of crowds or heights, I mean."
"I have no great fear of heights, it's merely the fall that gets to me." The thief seriously thought about the crowd question but had to admit she didn't know at all and told him so.
"The fall is something all sane humans fear, even my trapeze artists. As for crowds, we shall see soon enough." Liam considered her, then Cherep, then them both together. "If we do meet your approval, little sister Sonya, I would like to invite the two of you to practice with us this winter. If we all decide it is a great fit, maybe even the first show of the season or more. Yes?"
The younger Cloud sibling smiled back weakly, thinking hard.
Liam was very certain of both his circus and his people making a good impression if he was already angling to get her to agree to something in the future. He was either in desperate need of a mechanic, of a showgirl, or maybe even just that nice.
It still made her suspicious, though.
XCIX (Friday the 4th of February, 1966. Mafia Land.)
Liam's ever so imaginatively named Großes Volksfest had nearly a hundred people to it, most were performers and a good chunk were the carnies that ran game booths, but there were a range of other types sprinkled through. He even had musicians, though most of them made better acrobats.
Sonya reluctantly decided this was probably the best one Cherep could find within the Soviet Union, or at least one she couldn't dig up more than their fair share of dirt on.
The circus planned to move out, back onto the road, in mid-April. After a show or two to knock the winter rust off and generate a bit of traveling cash to last them to their next destination. That meant she had to do some rearranging in a fast hurry, especially if her brother was so dead set on going along with them.
There was both her stuff to move into storage and the last of Tatiana's, some jobs for Mafia Land to be done since she wouldn't likely get the summer off to handle other business, and the last of the things she wanted to get done in Moscow needed to be finished.
Somehow, she had to get that done while also making a good impression on what was likely her future co-workers while with this circus… and figure out where she'd fit it.
The former pickpocket was just happy she managed to both finish off Adrik's favor and took a raincheck on the teaching bit.
She eventually got herself apprenticed to 'Madam Crina', an elderly woman posing as a gypsy fortune teller… or who was a gypsy fortune teller. While she wasn't entirely sure how that came about since she met the woman when the old bat had been blind drunk, it was at least helpful in sorting out herself when it came to circus life.
Master Liam did accept the suggestion that she had the very last of her personal business to handle yet, that would probably repeat every winter. If she didn't harry off during the working season he claimed he didn't mind.
With that all done, Sonya informed their foster parents about the whole 'run away to join the circus' bit she and Cherep were going to do. Lisa laughed until she cried, oddly enough. Arseniy rolled his eyes at them both, asking when she planned on cleaning out the attic.
That had been a nightmare of shipping logistics, which Tatiana would be made to pay for her share the next time the foster sisters were in the same general vicinity.
The Storm-Cloud had to follow right after, so she'd be able to shove it all into her storage unit and try to grab two or three Mafia Land jobs at the same time. She might have had to heavily abuse her Propagated strength to muscle everything in place, but she managed it.
It was only halfway to the Thieves' Hall that the slightly harried thief noted she was being followed.
Mafia Land was such a volatile mix of criminals that it was sometimes hard to tell, especially when one faction of people was suspicious of everyone else who were suspicious of them and everyone else in return and so on. As she was running a little short on time, instead of counter-stalking them to figure out what the hell she noted what she could and kept going.
She'd leave it be for now, but if they kept it up when she came back then she would have to do a little digging herself.
As far as she was aware, a minor thief like her didn't rate special interest. A Flame user might gather that much, but very few people knew of her ability in that and if they had talked she would've heard something.
…or someone managed to connect the Zolotov Rain and her together in the last few months.
Usov was a snotty brat, but it had been impressed on him not to talk about his or any Flame ability to those that didn't know. However, a lot of people could outsmart a six-year-old… even a Mist using one.
It could've been his parents, but she had been sure they were too thankful for her assistance to sell her out.
Okay… there were several ways her Flame use might have gotten out. Renato might have even done it, he never did promise to keep it to himself. All she had on him was his own use of Sun, and she even owed him two favors to boot.
Sonya stopped once fully inside her Hall, palming her face and flatly refusing to panic. Dying Will Flame users were becoming more common, it was obvious she'd never be able to fully keep that from circulating around if anyone noted something a bit off about her.
She was being stalked… it didn't necessarily mean it was Flame related. It could be a mafia syndicate looking for a thief to use, or it could just be because she was pretty in a 'classic' way.
It could just be because they were bored.
C (Thursday the 17th of March, 1966. Arseniy & Lisa's home, Moscow, Russian Soviet Federative Socialist Republic.)
Sonya managed three Mafia Land contracts within a month.
None of them were clean affairs, one even forced her to run for it due to incomplete intel gathering on the situation. The Russian managed it in the end, without a new or interesting injury to try explaining away other than bruises from a bad landing and a few cuts from the running.
One also paid nowhere near the amount of risk mandated, and she lodged a complaint against the individual that commissioned the job in revenge. It would probably go nowhere, but it made her feel slightly better about getting duped into stealing from a government office while it was in use.
Hopefully that was the last time she would have to grab whatever in a fast hurry.
That left her with one month to try to integrate herself in the circus she and Cherep were joining. He had used his month without her to fit in rather well, his natural people skills at work in being cheerful and helpful.
The blonde was known as 'the young mechanic's sister', which worked for her. This was her brother's dream, she was just along because no one would be able to help him with it as their foster parents had helped the girls and the dork was way too damn nice still.
Madam Crina proved to be just as cankerous sober as she was drunk but held up her word in taking on the thief as an apprentice in the art of fortunetelling. Also, the tarot cards she had were awesome.
The incense she burned to cover the smell of alcohol abuse, not so much.
The older woman, Romanian if Sonya was any judge of accent, dressed herself like a serotyped gypsy. Scarves and shawls wrapped around her boney frame, a vest of garish colors, billowy sleeves, a full skirt with an elaborate apron over top, and knee-high boots with low heels she could probably wade through a tar pit in comfortably.
The Russian thief was jealous of her boots.
As Madam Crina's apprentice/draw girl/gopher, she was expected to dress like her. That was simple enough for the most part, swaths of fabric were easily gotten if you knew where to go.
Getting them in the patterns and styles Crina approved of had been the trick.
The haughty old woman had not been interested in holding her apprentice's hand through her shopping even if she was a picky old bitch, which had been annoying. The acrobats rather liked the bolts of rejected fabrics, so while irritating Sonya figured it wasn't a complete loss.
They, particularly the trapeze artist named Ivanna, informed her that she was the third such 'apprentice' in fortune telling Madame Crina had gotten. Several others had gone in under her for various other trades but none of the others stayed longer than a year as such, so they weren't particularly holding out hope she'd remain with the circus for long.
Cherep rather heartily disliked the old fortune teller when he learned of that. Sonya didn't really see the point in getting upset.
It would either work out or it wouldn't, and she'd find something else to do if so.
"…I still don't see why you put up with that."
"I put up with you for years, didn't I?" The Storm-Cloud peered at the seam she was sewing using a bit of sunlight peeking through the rolling clouds overhead to highlight her work.
That looked straight… right?
"Madame Crina is not much more of a chore, really."
Learning how to sew clothing had not been a skill she ever thought she would need. The crotchety old woman she was now working for begged to differ, as when they were on the road all mending or alterations had to be done when it came up. The thief would be stuck doing it for her now, and making her 'traditional dress' for when they opened the circus to customers.
Sewing a skirt hadn't been too hard, it was the shirt that proved to be tricky. She had cheated the hell out of everything and took apart one of her older long-sleeved shirts and a skirt way too short for her anymore, using the fabric as templates for her hand-sewn ones.
If the fortunetelling gig failed, she might just try her hand at costume designing.
"Are you seriously going to try to tell me you don't mind the old bat?" Her brother asked of her incredulously, finally finished 'tuning-up' his motorcycle for the nth time that same month.
He really was almost chomping at the bit to leave Moscow, now that he finally had a decent circus Sonya hadn't refused thinking about.
"Yes, pretty much." She stabbed herself in the thumb for a similar nth time and figured out what a thimble was for after examining the pricks of blood curiously.
She was sure sewing leather would be harder than fabrics, even if she had Cloud Flame boosted strength. The thief didn't care if Crina sniffed at her for months, she was going to buy the damn boots and vest somewhere.
…and probably a set of bracers she could keep some of her mini-Bec de Corbins on or in. They were too long to work as charms on a bracelet, and her red tourmaline key was on a thin chain around her neck. Sonya could wear two as earrings, and had the magnetic ear hooks to do so, but that was a bit too liable to stab her in the neck if she wasn't careful.
Those earrings would require mini-hammers without sharp ends to be less hazardous. A maul, maybe.
Oh hell, and a belt.
Pausing in her work, the Storm-Cloud glanced over to the skirt she finished after two weeks of work on it.
She forgot belt loops.
Sonya felt the corner of her left eye twitch, so she carefully gathered up her sewing supplies and set it aside with the shirt she had been trying to make. "I need something to do, not circus related or stealing or whatever."
"Um… like what?"
"…I'm going to go and destroy Aleksandr's floor one last time. Want to come with me and snicker at all the dumbfounded faces the little brats make when I do it in front of them?"
Cherep only thought about it for the sake of it, from what she got by looking at the smirk that crawled across his face as he stalled to tease her a little. "Sure."