Author's Note : I regret nothing!

Edited (4/29/2017) - Minor story corrections and grammar edits, still regret nothing.

Edit (3/22/2018) - Final formatting and minor corrections. Even still, I regret nothing.

Edited (9/8/2018) - Minor corrections.

Russian Roulette : Reloaded

Chapter 25

(Monday the 22 nd of July, 1968. Lille, French Republic.)

Skull de Mort was now a thing, and Sonya didn't quite know how she wanted to feel about it.

How long until that thousand-or-so-year old shopkeeper man gathered up the strongest Flame users of each type?

How much time did the thief have, to figure out if she wanted to try to prevent her dorky foster brother from becoming the Cloud Arcobaleno or at least try and warn him about the baby-looking curse of the damn things?

…or find a way to help him support himself without taking a nasty and sudden nosedive through the underworld's worse dregs?

Crina's new apprentice decided to linger with her during and after the stunt show, which made the Russian slightly suspicious.

…because first of all, she was very damn well used to the 'feel' of Mist Flames and had just come from visiting a baby Mist. Secondly, those tattoos were very… distinctive. Identifying.

At least this area was slightly abandoned, as most attention was at the front or the side where the prep tent was standing. In the twilight, well after a show, near the time another show was lined up to start for the slot after the stunt show. Perfectly deserted enough to have confrontation of the fiery sort without too much risk.

Cherep, still scrubbing the last of Skull's makeup off with a wet paper towel as he almost tripped his way around the back of the big top tent, flicked his purple eyes from the thief to the new girl but decided greeting his sister was more important.

"Little sister!" Sonya got glomped then pulled off her feet, and she twitched as he mashed their cheeks together. "Aww… you came to visit me. I feel so loved."

"You saw me not an hour before this and about to feel extreme blood-loss. Put. Me. Down."

He did so, grinning even with a threat of bodily harm aimed in his direction. "You still have an issue with touch? It's not a bad thing, Sonya. I will keep doing this as many times as it takes to help you get over that. Feel the love, sis. Feel it."

"You are being creepy, get away from me." Sniffing, and taking a couple steps backward to remove herself from touching-distance, the thief lightly smacked his hands away from her sides. "I do not have an issue with touch, I have issues with people touching me when not expecting it. As long as I do it, or I know it is coming, it is fine."

"Your double standards are appalling." Cherep informed her seriously, even if he still had that affable grin.

She puzzled over that comment, trying to figure out if he was being serious about that or just yanking on her chain.

Damn it all, she swore he was doing this on purpose.

"So… Viper, right?" The stuntman continued in another direction, looking at the Mist. "The old bat's new girl. I don't think we've met yet. Hi, Cherep Bazanov. Occasionally Skull de Mort. General mechanic and occasional stuntman."

"Charmed." Viper intoned in a completely blank tone of voice. "I have a question."

"That is nice, we have one for you as well." Sonya shoved her right hand laced with Storm Flames through the Construction of a massive spider before it could leap upon either of them, seizing her replacement by the front of her outfit with her left and hoisting the Mist off her feet. "So… question."

Viper's eyes were locked on the hand of Storm Flames about to touch her nose, her hood knocked off in the scuffle, a scowl on her fully visible face. "…fine. What?"

"Is whatever you are running from going to endanger the circus, Crina, or more importantly my brother?"

The Mist flicked her eyes to Sonya's own, and sneered with an insulted expression. "Of course not. I made certain of that before approaching such a civilian outfit. Can you put me down now?"

"Please. I don't want to have to figure out where to hide the body." Cherep chipped in dryly, entirely unconcerned with the sharp points aimed at his back but gripping hafts of the ones that almost impacted the thief's.

She scoffed, lowering the Mist to her feet even as she turned back to her foster brother. The Constructed spears behind his back faded into indigo Flames as the tension between the Cloud siblings and the unknown faded. "Enough Storm Flames and she would not leave a body. That is not a good protest."

"I don't want to know where you'd ever need that kind of information." He informed her, rubbing his temple tiredly.

"Excuse me, I believe it is my turn." Viper interrupted dryly, adjusting her bright and cheerfully patterned clothing to darker shades with less frills in a few distasteful flicks of indigo fire.

Strangely, she also got a whole lot less feminine looking but was still wearing a long sleeved and skirted dress. "Is there a reason a Storm Flame user's brother is hanging around a purely civilian outfit? From what I've been able to find out, one of you is a former performer and the other is still on-going without any intents to change that."

"Not entirely a Storm." Sonya informed the girl blandly, suspicious of how she got that information given the stonewalling she received when she started. "Cloud."

"Cloud." Cherep agreed, or echoed, with a shrug. "And yes, there is a reason."

That finally got some surprise painted across Viper's tattooed face, and she flicked her eyes from one sibling to the other. "…the both of you are Clouds?"

The thief gave the woman a hard glare, to show she wasn't at all pleased with the direction she was trying to go in.

"Yep!" The stuntman confirmed cheerily, the idiot.

"If that gets out from you, I will hunt you down and rip out your spine to beat you with it." She snapped at the Mist, turning the full force of her glare on her foster brother. "Why would you tell her that?"

"Why not? The first show I crash in she'll know full well, and this way we'll know which way she's going to jump on that information."

"She may not have been here for that. You do not have that many injuries from your work so far, and you had better not be purposely causing them. I swear to hell, Cherep, if you are I am going to murder any and all motorcycles you ever get."

"I'm not! I swear!" Cherep yelped in panic, grabbing hold of Sonya's hands and not letting go even when she dug her nails into his wrists. "It was only a thought, to see what Viper would do, I'm not going to do it. Ever. I swear to you on the grave of my first bike! Don't murder Betsy."

"…Betsy?" Questioned his fellow Cloud slowly, distracted enough she stopped trying to get him to release her hands.

Did he name his bike?

The embarrassed flush crawling up his face answered that question.

There was a snort from the Mist, and Viper smoothed a hand across her lips when the siblings glanced at her. "Mou… as amusing as all this is, do you have another question for me? I seem to have found a few more for the two of you."

"Please, your brain broke trying to process the fact you were looking at two Clouds."

"That's not the way to make friends, Sonya."

"I am not friends with Mists of no imagination." She snapped at him irritably, tugging at her still trapped hands. "They have to be at least somewhat intelligent for me to like."

"Your Mist friends are both under the age of fifteen." He countered dryly, and pointedly not releasing her. "And one is even younger than that. Doesn't he not count as a friend then? More like a kid you're mothering?"

"He's five, thank you. No, and," she corrected tartly, stomping a toe to get him to let go, "stop touching me."

"Why is my little sister so violent to me? All I want to do is help you make a new friend." Whined Cherep pitifully, actually contorting and clutching his steel toed boot as if that had done more than dent the very top of the metal toe-cap in warning.

"Because you have no sense of personal boundaries. Or self-preservation. And maybe I don't want to make a friend, ever think about that?"

Viper conjured herself a bag of popcorn and started munching.

"Friends are good things, maybe if you got one a normal way you might be less of a damn spaz. And I do too! It's just different, alright?" The stuntman defended himself, shoving a hand through his hair and frowning at her. "And leave my sense of personal boundaries out of this, you have just extreme ones so your sense of them are skewed all to hell."

"I am not a spaz!"

"I should charge admission for this." The Mist mused to herself idly, popping a few more kernels of popcorn into her mouth. "I'd make a killing."

"Can you even taste that?" Sonya asked curiously, derailed from her argument with her foster sibling.

It was Mist Flame food, basically food made up out of illusionary fire that did not really exist.

Wouldn't it just taste like fire?

Or did Viper's Flames also mimic the taste of food?

"Are you male or female?" Her brother asked in the next second, looking slightly frustrated. "Because you look female… but you also sort of look male sometimes. Like right now."

"She is dressed as female. Unless otherwise requested or informed differently, you would refer to someone like this as what gender they are conforming to at the time." The thief snapped yet again, backhanding him in the gut hard enough to make him wheeze. "And you call me socially incompetent."

"…how? Why? How do you even know that?"

Rachel's lifetime had a transgender community that decided on that as the best way to refer them as. Well… that or gender-neutral terms that would just confuse everyone if she used.

"Never you mind, Cherep. That was beyond rude, though."

"It's alright, I've heard it before… except the method of sorting out gender labels." Viper waved the rebuke from the younger sibling away idly, allowing her Construct of popcorn to fade from existence. "And I can, actually, taste the food I conjure. It has no nutritional value but saves me the hassle of actually buying whatever food I wish to eat as long as I have tried it once before."

"…huh."

"…sorry." The stuntman offered sheepishly, scratching at his messy and likely sweat-soaked hair then smoothing it somewhat straight… ish.

With another shrug, the Mist turned her attention on Sonya. "At least he asks instead of tries harassing the answer out of me."

"Well… true. I suppose."

"My question, then. Is this not your territory?"

"I do not have one."

"Yes, you do."

She sighed heavily, directing her gaze to the sky where the stars were starting to show under the encroachment of twilight. "Cherep is of the opinion my territory is actually the people I am closest to. Even if not, I do not have a physical territory. Before you ask, he does not have one either."

A line of stiffness in Viper's thin frame relaxed slightly, which the Russian belatedly noticed had been hovering over the edge of a 'flight or fight' response.

…wow, she really was a very strong Mist. Even her familiarity of Mists and their Constructs didn't help her notice this Mist's more gradual preparations for any further violence.

"…mou, I suppose that is relieving to know." She settled on after a long moment, flicking dark violet eyes between the two of them again. "Next question."

"I do not have any more." Sonya refused flatly, already more than fed up with what information the Mist was going to be walking away with.

Cherep cradled his chin in one palm, looking thoughtful. "…you know, I don't have any more either. I just really wanted to know what gender to call you by, so I didn't offend you or something."

Viper blinked, then blinked again. Finally, she frowned while looking slightly irritated. "Nothing? Then how am I to get answers of my own?"

"Guess. Or suffer. I do not care. As long as whatever you are doing will not harm my brother, you are not that interesting." Even if she was or was related to the future Mist Arcobaleno.

"And you were doing so well, too." The stuntman sighed, aiming a mournful look at his sister. "Really?"

Sonya shrugged it and the look off, not feeling remotely sorry for whatever it was he was now exasperated over. "I am going to go bribe Crina for information. Would you like to come to dinner with me while I do that?"

"Eh… sure. Why not? It will probably be better than the 'leftover' concession stand fair I'd eat otherwise. Even if Crina is going to be there."

"The old bat is not that bad."

"The old bat is a crotchety, sour old woman. I have no idea why you like her so much."

"Well… I somehow like you too, and now I wonder what that says about you."

Cherep gave her a deadpan look. "That you have some moments of pure sanity?"

"Or insanity, if you think about it."

"Ouch, really feeling the love here. Just… wow. So much love." He paused, looking back at the frustrated Mist. "Hey, you coming?"

Viper gave him an odd look.

"I'll pay, think of it as an apology for insulting you."

"…I suppose." She allowed after a moment of thought, following along after them as the thief lead the way out of the little alley and into the circus' main thoroughfare. "Your sister is very… straightforward."

"Yep."

"And you are not."

"That is still a line of enquiry, and if he answers I will gain my return answer in a manner you may not like." Sonya called out to the two behind her.

"There's a reason for that too." Her fellow Cloud answered in a way that wouldn't end up with the Mist owing the Cloud a favor of unnamed information. "Sorry though."

There was a smirk audible in Viper's voice for her next comment. "I have all night, I can probably find a way."

"You'll piss her off, and I would rather you didn't do that."

"…mou, fine. I demand an expensive dinner for my apology then."

She came to a sudden stop as a wonder occurred to her. She glanced behind her at the two of them. "Freebie, what does alcohol do to you? Or just a normal Mist in general?"

"Is there a reason why you are asking?" The Mist user countered with a quick frown, her features readjusting to appear more feminine as they approached the crowds.

"Firstly, because we will likely be drinking tonight. Secondly, he was correct about the ages of the Mists I know, and knowing what to warn them of before they try liquor the first time is something I am interested in."

"I can accept that." Viper mused aloud, cradling her chin in her left hand in a thoughtful manner. "More creativity, less substance when it comes to others. It is easier to disbelieve a Mist's Constructs if they are drunk, usually because they tend to be sloppier as well."

"Huh… right."

The Mist user likely turned a demanding look on the stuntman, because he huffed lightly with good humor in the next second. "We're Polarized differently. Like extreme opposite ends differently."

"…ah."

(Tuesday the 23rd of July, 1968. Lille, French Republic.)

Calling into Mafia Land just to check in with how her sister and Lackey was doing before she took a month or two off to try and find a long dead Arcobaleno proved to be a very good thing.

"What you do mean he picked up a contract for me?"

"I mean you have maybe half the usual time to complete this next job, is what I mean." Tatiana informed her over the phone, sounding stressed already and they had barely just gotten past the greeting part of the conversation. "I informed him not to do it again unless you were going to be expecting it or told him he may, but…"

Defaulting on contracts were not good things even in the civilian half of the world and in the underworld, it could get downright lethal.

"Give me the details." Then Sonya was going to have a very sharp conversation with her Lackey about when and where using his authority over her schedule was appropriate or not.

Rattling off both an address, city, country, and target in rapid succession, the nurse sighed heavily after the thief confirmed she had it written down. "I think… someone confused him into doing it. I'm not too clear on who, or why, because he's keeping his mouth shut about it. But Bjǫrn's not that great of a liar, nor does he have the personality to have done that intentionally to you."

"I'll figure it out when I get back." In… a week.

Sonya had to go and transfer the notes inked onto her hand to an actual piece of paper or something, then wash off the details of a criminal heist from her skin. Then she likely had to go catch a plane, even if she was still highly wary of flying in this day and age.

It was the only way to get from France to the US in time, and that was only if she used two or three days for said heist then flew back to Mafia Land.

Milwaukee, Wisconsin. Sonya was going back to Rachel's hometown.

She didn't know how she felt about that.

On the other hand, she could go surprise the hell out of people that some girl from Europe could pronounce the Native American names correctly. It might be worth a snicker or two to purposely mispronounce them.

She would not be looking for either her/Rachel's parents. It was still a few years early yet, there wasn't much of a point. They both were probably in high school still, or only just made it into collage.

That was still something she had yet to figure out what she wanted to do with too.

(Thursday the 25th of July, 1968. Pabst Theater, Milwaukee, Wisconsin, United States of America.)

Sonya spent the flight mostly looking over the extra details she got just before getting on the plane, more notably more than just 'a chandelier' at 'a theater'. She also spent most of it either trying not to allow herself to worry or mentally cursing out Bjǫrn in her head.

The teen needed to do some serious detail work for future heists.

'A chandelier' in 'a theater' didn't quite cover the pertinent details.

Memories from another life told her that in Milwaukee's Pabst Theater, above the main auditorium, was a frankly massive chandelier of crystal. From what Sonya could dredge out of Rachel's memories, it wouldn't yet be the couple ton chandelier of Austria crystal… that was still a decade away, but even with her strength she wasn't even sure she could steal whatever was hanging before that.

That wasn't even counting the fact the bloody thing was suspended over a two-story auditorium… or was it three?

Either way, the thief was going to have to get creative in a fast hurry.

Milwaukee, thankfully, was a port city. The Russian Storm-Cloud loved these cities, especially since it also was a main train station in the US train lines.

Since she could use Mafia Land shipping/smuggling services to transport her illicit goods and buy a hell of a lot of beer while she was here to cover it, her attention went mainly to the damn mess of crystal and metal she had to steal.

While a show was going on.

The theater was almost sold out, doing a midsummer production of Fiddler on the Roof. There were both day-shows of different productions and night-shows of the main feature, meaning the auditorium was likely being cleaned for the few 'off-hours' between the last show of the night and the first show of the day.

Over the heads of about a thousand people. Thousand and a half if the actors putting on the play and the musicians were included.

This was probably the riskiest thing she was going to attempt yet.

Sonya, strangely, was excited the moment she laid eyes on her target.

It wasn't something she would've picked to do herself, not with the risks she knew would come with it. It was a massively ornate thing, it was going to be unwieldy and hard to move, likely possible she'd get caught doing it, but she still was mentally planning out exactly what she would need to do in order to remove and steal the damn thing silently while the room was full.

Two days' worth of traveling, and the one or two day return trip, left the Soviet Storm-Cloud with three days to work with.

"Miss…? The show is about to start." An usher helpfully reminded her, causing the thief to glance at him instead of stare at the massive chandelier three stories above her head.

"Ah… sorry." She took the last few steps fully into the theater and nodded her thanks when he pointed her down the aisle she needed to go to find her seat. "Thank you."

"Enjoy the show, miss."

(ooo000ooo)

(Thursday the 25th of July, 1968 continued. Pabst Theater, Milwaukee, Wisconsin, United States of America.)

The chandelier was actually connected to a hoist and pulley system, supported by the heavily reinforced theater ceiling. It was lowered for cleaning, which ruled out maintenance access as a possible way to it. While that would normally nix any attempts she could've made to get it from the top, the Pabst Theater also had an incredibly old-fashioned air conditioning system.

Old-fashioned in that massive blocks of ice were once imported and set in a room at the very top of the building, then two massive fans would blow cool air down ventilation shafts to the audience in summer.

Sonya loved ventilation shafts. They were so useful.

It didn't quite remove the issues a solid ceiling gave her, nor did anything about the weight and mass of what she was about to steal, but it provided a way it could be done. Given she had two days left to work within, the same night she visited a show to get a good recent era look around, she also slipped away from the crowd exiting the theater and did a bit of cautious poking around.

Finding a ventilation shaft took her barely two minutes, as they were rather ornate things and she knew what she was looking for but getting into one without raising suspicion took her nearly two hours.

With a method in mind and a general feel of the scope of the heist figured out, she called Tatiana back her second day from a phone booth downtown.

"Do I have to steal the entire thing, or would just the crystals do? The rest of it is metal, possibly even a ton of it."

"I don't think anyone expected you to steal the whole thing," the nurse replied wryly as a shuffling of papers sounded, "I'm not sure what the fact you assumed the whole thing of ton weight was what you were to steal says about your head. No, according to the paperwork, they want the… glass? Or crystal dangly stuff."

"Is that seriously the term used on that paperwork?"

"No, Bjǫrn got the paperwork in Icelandic and I'm working off a translated copy in his handwriting. It sucks, by the by. For two years of learning, his grammar can end up all over the place. Might want to work on that with him when you have the time."

Yeah, this was the last time she'd ever be doing a contract without actually reading the damn thing herself.

"Sonya?"

"Hmm?"

"…what are you thinking?"

"I kind of wonder if I should not steal the whole thing anyways."

"HOW? It's a ton or so of metal, you said that yourself."

"It would have to be done in pieces." Agreed the Cloud almost absently, thinking hard. "But the contract has no limitations on damages to the item, right? Since it was so large in volume?"

"Well… no. But, ton. Of. Metal."

"The production being performed is a good two hours and some long. Almost three, actually. I might just have time to not only get the crystals, but everything else including the pulley end as well."

"Oh my god." Tatiana whined into her end of the phone, making the thief yank it away from her ear and give it a strange look. The nurse's voice continued after a long pause. "My shy little sister is an exhibitionist. I never saw that one coming."

"…I… what?"

"You just want to steal it in order to giggle in your stilted silent way over the baffled head scratching as people wonder how you did it, don't you?"

Well… "…yes."

"Really?"

"It will also unnerve and possibly upset whoever it is you suspect has fooled Bjǫrn into accepting that contract on my behalf. As… well… as… allow me to stop being a jewel thief and actually start thieving other things."

"From jewels to crystals isn't much of a jump, little sis." Tatiana informed her bluntly, sounding slightly exasperated. "Are you sure you can do that?"

Honestly? "Yes. It will be tricky, but possible. I think I can do it, anyways."

"…I'll get the bail money ready."

"Very funny. I'll see you soon, alright?"

There was a snort from the other end. "One way or another."

Sonya wasn't intending to do anything like this again, but since she started thinking as 'whole thing' rather than 'little parts of it' she might as well keep on with that.

Admittedly, she'd only try for the full damn thing if she could get everything her contract stipulated first.

Best to be careful, at least.

(Saturday the 27th of July, 1968. Milwaukee, Wisconsin, United States of America.)

The night of day two in Milwaukee, Wisconsin, Sonya spent on a dry practice run just to be sure she could do what she wanted to do.

Mainly, finding and locating not only the method of which she would be getting a ton of oversized lamp disassembled but snuck out of the theater without getting caught.

A ton was stretching it, even for her strength. If she didn't have to find out at the last minute that she couldn't support that kind of weight all at once, she would prefer it.

In her further investigations of the old ventilation system, she ran across the method used to transport ice blocks before the advent of electric air conditioning. It included a set of railroad tracks in the attic to move said ice of old, but also a freight elevator.

Investigating to see if that worked or not netted her a way to actually accomplish the heist as she wanted. For something almost seventy years old, it was in surprisingly good condition. It also needed an oiling in the worst way so as to not screech or clank in all sorts of disruptive manners, and she had to sneak out and back in again with a few bottles of machine grade oil to slather everything that moved with, but immediate transport was set.

While she was at it, she also started carving into the ceiling of the auditorium with a trowel she picked up from a hardware store. Getting the bulk of the work out of the way, like cutting the vent's metal open more than wide enough for her purpose and starting in on gouging away the concrete until she had a very thin amount left to prevent the façade from cracking or just falling apart on her.

The pulley system used to raise and lower the chandelier told her exactly where she had to stop, at least.

One wouldn't normally be able to cut metal with a small little hand spade, but Sonya cheated all over the place.

With that mostly set up, she then had to think of how she would get either the crystals she was contracted for or the entire damn chandelier from the theater to the dockside. In the end, she rented a heavy-duty van.

Legally. Then she stole it.

From herself.

Reporting it stolen did carry some risks, as in her current fake name and description would be linked to the theft if only in a 'victim' way. However, in it being stolen and her 'official' business was acquiring a lot of beer for an Octoberfest party arrangement wouldn't necessarily raise suspicion of its own, it was a risk she had to run.

Since Bjǫrn accepted the contract on her behalf, he might have to turn it in as well. It was possible she would not be leaving America on time.

After stashing her truck close by once a few 'adjustments' she learned from Dimitry were made, Sonya got some sleep.

Then bought an ungodly amount of beer that she would not be drinking, bright and early the next and last day she had before her contracted time limit ran out.

It took up most of the morning, because there were two main breweries she had to decide between. Pabst itself and Miller. The Russian eventually went with Miller Brewery Company just because she would be having a Pabst item in that shipment. Illegally, but the point remained.

While the shipment was being assembled, she took the legal paperwork she would be smuggling things through to the dockyards and found the local Mafia Land contact.

That would be her alibi for the night, the man here well used to handling shipment details to Mafia Land by himself and claiming otherwise.

She really had no idea how effective of a long-range thief she would be without this network of dockyard crooks.

(Sunday the 28th of July, 1968. Zolotov Condo, Mafia Land.)

"I cannot believe you did that." Tatiana moaned as if she were in pain, tossing the newspaper from Milwaukee, Wisconsin, on their dinner table.

Headlining news was the 'Mysterious Mid-Show Disappearance' of the Pabst Theater's massive chandelier. Sonya couldn't quite get the pulley system at the same time, but she was alright with that.

"I can't believe it actually wasn't that hard." The chandelier had to be taken to pieces with a screwdriver while the show was going on, and she had to improvise a way to prevent the cables that held it up from slacking under its lessening weight, but she not only stole the damn thing… she got away on time as well.

The van she reported stolen likely would never be found anytime soon… since she drove the thing off the less maintained dockside and into Lake Michigan. Thank the gods for automatic transmissions.

Stealing it whole instead of the crystals first had prevented any of the gawkers from noticing the glitter of the chandelier disappearing bit by bit before they got fully distracted by the show.

Which, while not the plan, actually cut off maybe an hour of time from the job.

In fact, the Russian thief actually managed to leave the scene of her crime a full half hour before the lights went back on and the outcry over the missing chandelier started. The police hadn't even interviewed her in any way connected to the heist, her only out of pocket cost was the insurance on the van she stole from herself.

Sonya pressed the landing ticket for the stolen chandelier into her packet of paperwork, holding the original contract as well as the relevant information Mafia Land's intel brokers had on the job location and subject, then turned to the guilty looking Icelandic teenager. "Now… take me to this person that recommended this job."

Bjǫrn gave a few rapid nods, still looking a bit sickly pale under his recently acquired freckled tan. "Yes, Dama."

He had already bent her ear with apologies, until the thief snapped at him to save it for later.

She really just wanted to know who the hell had the gall to mess with a Lackey of hers.

Ignoring the, still ongoing, wary watching and avoidance of her person by most if not all the normal residents of Mafia Land, the thief stalked after her aid musing on what she wanted to do to whoever it was that tried screwing her and Bjǫrn over.

By the closest thing Mafia Land had to laws, she could fully justify killing the asshole to everyone. Sonya didn't want to do that, but something had to be done before this was attempted again.

The thief might not be able to figure a way out of it next time.

At any other time, the silence that spread from her entrance to the Thieves' Hall would've either irritated or annoyed her. This time, it gave her the perfect range to overhear someone talking to Miss Snooty.

That asshole clerk that once set her on a home invasion job had his back to the doors and was a lot more focused on the secretary than wise. Said secretary looked just as uncomfortable with him as she was afraid of the Storm-Cloud's entrance, which got her dismissed from said Flame user's attention.

"I wouldn't worry too much, Beth. That uppity little bitch is either panicking or long dead."

"…uppity little bitch, am I?"

A tiny bit too late to save himself, or at least attempt to scramble for a cover story that wouldn't lead to his likely brutal and bloody death, the clerk whipped around.

Then probably suffered some brain-loss from how fast the blood drained from his face.

"Bjǫrn?"

"Da, Dama." Her Lackey quickly agreed, clutching her paperwork to his chest as scooting away from her a little. "Dat is him."

"I don't like him anyways." Miss Snooty informed her hurriedly, ignoring the man's weak little start that might have been outrage if he had the blood to actually process anything. "He's sexist, and rude, and really can't take a hint. I'm about to get married, and he still tries to flirt with me."

"Why do you think I care?"

"Just saying!" She waved her hands in denial of any motivation for offering her personal information, while also keeping them as close to her body as possible. It made a rather awkward looking flailing gesture. "Can… c-an I go?"

Sonya gave the woman a flat stare but did glance at the paperwork in her Lackey's possession that was due today. "I believe there is some work my aide has that needs to be filed."

"I'd be happy to help." Indeed, she looked entirely too happy to seize any excuse to go elsewhere. Miss Snooty turned only just far enough to make it obvious she was addressing Bjǫrn, but also so she could keep an eye on the Storm-Cloud herself. "Files, right? Archive or completed contract?"

"Icelandic, Russian, or French. He doesn't understand a lot of English yet."

Miss Snooty gave a shaky nod, then babbled out a string of Germanic sounding syllables that made her want to twitch. It made no sense in German, but she apparently was more than fluent in the teenager's native language since he babbled back while opening that folder.

…she really did have to learn more than a couple phrases in that damn language.

"I don't believe you're a Cloud Flame user." Asshole clerk rallied himself finally, apparently regaining his marbles a touch too late to really help him much. "I think you're just doing it for the attention."

…how the hell did that make any sense whatsoever?

Flame users were known by their Flames, which were practically color coded for convenient identification.

Taking her silence as some kind of admission of guilt, he stuck his nose in the air and glared at her. "You are just some farm girl from Russia getting her kicks out of terrifying her betters and needs to be taken down a peg or three."

Sonya dug out her cigarettes, and his expression when she lit it with her Cloud Flames was… interesting. "Do go on, I am absolutely fascinated by this outpour of stupidity. And, actually, I am a city girl from Russia."

He stuttered, without actually making a sound so his mouth was moving but nothing was coming out, wildly glancing around the hall-filled lobby seeking some kind of aid.

It wasn't forthcoming.

As a matter of fact, their audience seem almost gleeful. Whether it was because he was unpopular or just the possibility that they were about to see some violence being committed was debatable.

"…w-w-well, you're not a very good Cloud. Are you? You are nothing like the old stories, which has to mean you're weak."

"Want to know how to tell how strong a Cloud is?" She asked idly, rolling her smoldering cigarette between her pointer finger and thumb.

Frowning, because he had to know there was bait in that question, the clerk gave a hesitant nod when she refused to say anything else.

The Russian backhanded him across the face, the force flinging him to the side a respectable distance and making him impact a wall face-first. "With one like me, it's how physically strong I am."

The far wall was a good twenty feet away from her. There was still a crack in said wall, spider webbing out from the point of impact and flaking the paint away from the heavy reinforced bricks that made up most of the buildings here. Since she didn't really want to murder him, just yet anyways, she stuck to a force that was non-lethal but still greater than her muscle mass suggested she could do.

If that enabled others to continue to underestimate her, then good.

Sonya stayed in place as she took a long drag from her smoke, merely watching him roll feebly around clutching his battered face. There was a set of footsteps approaching, and in a deathly silent room it was irritatingly loud.

The very same gentleman that confronted Miss Snooty about her lack of spine not barely a month ago approached her from a direction she could clearly see him from. She was only somewhat sure this was the man in charge of the people working to set up contracts for the Thieves' Hall, and who she was waiting for.

"This is the second death threat I have received from your people in a month. Is this how you treat all Flame users?" The Storm-Cloud asked with deceptive mildness, flicking a hand to include the now whimpering clerk in her count so he would know why she was getting violent. "If so I will gladly spread the news to the others, so they will avoid this place."

He froze for a full second, then carefully regarded her seriously. "That will not be necessary, Miss Bazanova. Also, I must ask you to put that out."

"If you want your people dead, then all you had to do was say so." The thief replied, still in that even tone of voice as she dropped her lit cigarette to crush with a booted heel. "I suppose I could just kill him instead."

It really only took a flick of her wrist to get one of her Bec de Corbins to fall into her palm, then it was literally child's play to enlarge it to full-size as it swung behind her for the room.

"Miss Bazanova, please. This is entirely unnecessary."

"Is it?" She finally snapped, turning to glare at him instead of advance on the man with the now broken face and pointedly not putting her weapon away. "So how many more times must I deal with before it becomes necessary? I am warning you now, one more death threat and I will eliminate you and put my damn Lackey in charge. At least with him I will no longer worry about threats trying to use everything they can with this service against me."

Bjǫrn looked entirely terrified of that possibility, once Miss Snooty translated the parts he didn't understand for him.

The older man inhaled deeply, then gave her a nod. "Understood. I will personally ensure these people understand and appreciate the cost of attempting such things. Now, may we calmly discuss this?"

He likely didn't know what had vexed her this time, but he did know full well she was oddly rational for a Cloud. Possibly, he was trying to bank on her strange non-typical Cloud behavior to get this situation smoothed over quickly.

Sonya snapped her fingers at her aide, and the Icelandic teen scrambled to put the contract file in her hands. "Fine. Calmly explain to me how it is my Lackey ended up accepting this contract in my name, when it is far outside not only my usual range but also a few grades higher than what I am currently qualified to do through this island."

It was his turn for the blood to drain out of his face, and he gave one dismissive glance at the man whose face she had ruined before obviously deciding to throw him to the wolves. "That will be a fascinating discussion. Elsewhere."

There was a stir through the on-looking thieves that hadn't decided to be somewhere else while a Cloud, however rumored to be even-tempered or not, rampaged through their Hall. They likely didn't want the show to end, not without seeing how it was going to end.

She had no pity for them or their desire to see how this played out. "Lead on, then."

Already, she had done a bit of a blow to the reputation of this service they were going to have to work hard to mitigate. If she didn't want it to backfire on her, as in make enemies with her kind-of boss, she had to let it be solved by that boss.

In the end, she might even be able to wring a few concessions out of him in return for not carrying through with her threat to warn off any and all Flame users she met. Not likely, but it was remotely possible.

(Monday the 29th of July, 1968. South Beach, Mafia Land.)

With that taken care of, and one man's life likely ruined for good anywhere there was a criminal who could visit Mafia Land, Sonya detailed to Bjǫrn exactly when to accept contracts for her.

It was still half his fault, the man with the now flat face couldn't have assigned her that contract without his help.

The only bright side was that she hadn't failed that contract, and she did get one concession out of the Thieves' Hall guild master.

Two contracts a year left no one with warm or fuzzy thoughts about her thief skills, but that last job?

She got an upgrade to her already maxed-out business credit line and an array of more 'mid-risk' contracts opened up for her rather than mainly the 'minimal risk' ones she had been taking up to this point.

They would cost her in either more in time or targets than her usual and carried a greater risk for being arrested or killed, but it would at least be interesting.

With the added stipulation that she would be helping him select contracts for her until at least the New Year break, Sonya left Bjǫrn to only investigate how the Thieves' Hall worked and a reminder that details were important so he should probably get to know the Intel brokers as well.

"So, it was just stress… right?"

"Yes." The marginally healthier looking Tatiana informed her dryly, looking scores better than she had at the start of the year. "I'm actually putting on weight again, little sis. You don't have to look so pinched and worried when shooting me looks anymore."

"You were really unhealthy looking, Tats. I will not apologize about worrying for you."

"I'm not expecting you to. Frankly, I appreciated it." The nurse returned, licking melted ice cream off her fingers before continuing. "But the worst is over, mostly. I have another year or so of instruction, maybe however long of residency for the experience, then I'm a doctor."

"Hooray…" She muttered around her cone, nibbling on the soggy parts to get to the rest of her treat. The boardwalk of Mafia Land was sweltering hot, and it was melting everything it could with a vengeance. "Do you want me to stay with Doctor Kappel?"

"Since treating my own sister might get interesting in all the wrong ways, yeah. I wouldn't mind the occasional emergency you aim my way or maybe a consultation about whatever, but you probably should remain with him." Tatiana waved the offer off, relaxing back on the sun warmed bench they were watching the shoreline on. "We should get a tan. Since we're here and dressed for it."

They had gone swimming, just for something to do that day. The nurse didn't get much off-time, so this was her idea.

"Do you have vacation time?"

"Yes? Why?"

"The beaches in France, I kind of wanted to go back anyways. Some of them are nude beaches, others allow you to go topless. We could avoid tan lines there."

"Ooh, France it is."

"Um… ladies."

Sonya sighed, looking back over her shoulder at the slightly chagrined looking Chinese man clad in red. "Fong, did you need something?"

"Not need, no." He temporized, those red eyes flicking between the sisters until he decided to give his attention to her. "I was wondering if I could have a word with you."

Tatiana gave him a long look over, from the braid to his skin color and then down to his black canvas shoes, then turned to the thief with a deadpan expression and addressed her in Russian. "I hate your luck with hot men."

"You can have him, I think he's annoying." She glanced back at the martial artist. "Is it important, or can it wait?"

"You both realize I understand Russian, yes?"

"Yeah, and?"

The nurse hastily muffled her snickers, without a trace of guilt or sheepishness.

Fong's expression was an interesting one, torn between the chagrin from before and wry amusement. "I see. Sonya, can I have a word?"

"Again, is it important or can it wait?"

"Well…"

"Actually, will I think it is important or it could wait?"

He gifted her with an impressively flat look.

The thief shrugged it off. "I have no reason to be nice or helpful. Deal with it."

"Do you want her to have a reason to be?" Tatiana asked idly, tossing the empty and half-eaten cone into the trash can nearby. "Because if so, I might have a recommendation."

"Really?" Sonya asked of her sister flatly before Fong could say anything about the offer.

"If Mister eye-candy wants to hang around, I'm all for it. I get to ogle that ass, though."

There was an odd wheezing sound from the martial artist, who was eyeing the elder sister warily.

"You are selling me out for eye-candy." The thief stated blankly.

"Yep."

"This is the second time you have done this, Tats." She pointed out in exasperation. "First was Doctor crush, now Fong?"

"Doctor…? Oh, no. I don't have a crush on Doctor Kappel, he's not really much to look at. Like a gawky stickman. Might have a crush on his brain, though." Clarified the nurse thoughtfully, sticking a sticky finger into her mouth to clean it off then glancing backwards once most of the sugar was gone. "I just like Fong's muscles. As a matter of fact, I think that's what I'm going to call him. Hi, Muscles."

"Ah… hello?" He shifted away from her a bit more, putting himself right behind Sonya's back instead of standing a bit more between them.

The thief didn't appreciate the movement, but before she could snap at him to move further or just go away something ice cold dripped onto her bare thighs. "Shit."

Snickering, Tatiana accepted the remnants of her vanilla cone to toss as she tried to figure out what to do with the cream on her skin. "Lick it off."

"I am not that flexible… I think… I might be able to do that, actually." It would be incredibly uncomfortable, as well as a bit awkward, but maybe possible.

"I meant scoop it up with your fingers then lick it off, twit." The nurse actually laughed when the thief gifted her with a disgusted look. "Or you could go wash it off in the sea. Just trying to be helpful, sis."

"Yeah, some help you are."

Fong finally got out from behind her, standing now to Sonya's other side and looking a bit long-suffering. "Miss… ah…?"

"Primakova. Tatiana Primakova. Sonya's older sister. I already know who you are, and the fact you chased my little sister around Shanghai."

"I apologized for that." Defended the martial artist, as if that meant anything but the thief had the upper hand in that situation, slanting a gaze to the younger blonde then getting distracted by the mess she was dealing with before snapping his naturally wine-red eyes back to the redhead. "I… you have a suggestion?"

"Sonya needs some help with her self-control." The nurse declared wickedly, smirking when Sonya glanced at her in confusion for the tone as Fong blushed.

Was Tatiana flirting with him for a reason, or just to make him more uncomfortable?

Additionally, how the hell was that flirty?

The tone was a flirt one she had heard her sister use before, but the words did not make much sense as a flirt. Maybe she was just too used to hearing a male flirt and wasn't used to a female doing it?

"I need a new sparring partner." Clarified the Storm-Cloud slowly, solidly sure she missed something about this when that seemed to help him regain some control over himself. "But, Tats, Fong is a martial artist. I would probably break him too."

Her elder sister gave her a level look.

"I am not so fragile to break in a friendly spar."

Sonya gave him a dry look of her own as she managed to scoop up the greatest amount of the white mess on her thighs off. "I can bend and shatter steel with my bare hands."

"Well, you are a Cloud. I still will not break so easily." Fong returned stubbornly, glancing down at those hands and then yanking his gaze back up just as quickly. "You cannot break what you cannot hit."

"Mmm… we will see."

Tatiana snickered when he jerked his gaze away from her as she started sucking the melted ice cream from her fingers. "Ah… I'm going to hell. But oh, the price is fantastic."

She gave her a strange look for that comment, but she waved off explaining it to her.

"So…" The Chinese man stubbornly kept his eyes on the sky instead of actually look at either sister. "A spar in exchange for some information?"

"…sure. In a month." Sonya managed around her fingers.

"Don't talk with your mouth full." Tatiana quipped with a smirk.

"…why a month?"

She pulled her fingers from her mouth with a wet pop, glaring at her sister. "Because we are going to France, I believe you overheard why."

"I'm pretty sure you two could fit in a spar or several if he came with us. Maybe on the beach?"

"There are a lot of people on the beaches in France… maybe either really late or really early in the day…"

"That… will not be necessary. A month from now is fine." Fong hastened to say, still not looking at them. "I will see you then. Sonya, Tatiana."

"Aww… don't you want to help rub sun tan lotion on us, Fong?"

"I must abstain. My apologies." The Triad member gave them both a jerky little bow, then turned and walked away at a respectable clip.

She pursed her lips and pinned her foster sister with a flat look. "What did I miss?"

"He thought we were going to ask him to fuck you a couple times." Tatiana cheerfully informed her shamelessly. "Then that invitation to come to France with us? Pretty sure he was thinking you'd be either topless or naked for that spar on the beach."

"…pervert."

"Hey."

"Not you, him." The thief snapped irritably, rubbing her slightly wet fingers together absently in hopes they would dry faster. "Really? Who the hell spars either naked or nearly so?"

She snorted, a smirk twisting her lips up. "Oh god… Sonya, never change. I adore you this way."

"Now what?"

"Pretty sure that's called sex by another name, little sis."

"…oh." She scowled as she blearily recalled something like that from her last life, then sighed heavily. "I give up. So, did we accidently proposition Fong a couple times or what?"

"Or what." The nurse confirmed brightly, a lingering smirk aimed in her direction. "We actually invited him along for what seemed to be a wild month of sex on the beach."

"…we did?"

"With the both of us, but mainly you."

Sonya gave her a sideways look. "Really? I'm not that dense, Tats. I'm pretty sure I would've caught that at least."

"Okay… maybe not really, but it sure seemed that way to him."

"…so, he really is a pervert. Huh."

She didn't quite understand why Tatiana burst out laughing at that comment.

She just really wondered if she really wanted to deal with a perverted sparring partner.

(Wednesday the 31st of July, 1968. Mafia Land.)

"Miss Sonya!"

"Shamal?" The thief questioned in bemusement, bending down to pick the brat up when he held his hands up in a silent demand. "What are you doing here?"

The dockyard of Mafia Land was an entirely unexpected place to meet the kid.

"Who's this?" Tatiana questioned in slightly clumsy Italian, putting the last piece of luggage they were taking to France with them down next to her feet. "Hi, kiddo."

Baby Mist blinked at her from the safety of Sonya's arms, then looked up to her with a silent question.

"Shamal, this is my sister Tatiana. Tats, this is Renato's little ward."

"Hi baby, I've heard so much about you. Nice to finally meet you." The nurse told the kid honestly, waving a little. "Now, where is tall, dark, and snarky? Shouldn't he be with you?"

Frowning, Sonya actually turned to see if she couldn't spot the hitman himself. That was odd, and a bit out of character. "Renato!"

There was a sudden swath cut through the crowd, and the visibly peeved Italian himself stalked through the usual traffic nearly as well as the Storm-Cloud could when she walked around the island lately. "Shamal… what did I say about running off?"

"Not to? But it's Miss Sonya!" Baby Mist defended himself, pointing at the her as if that was excuse enough. "She's safe, you said so yourself."

By the fact the man's eyes narrowed even more, Sonya was pretty sure that excuse wasn't going to fly.

"Kid, please." She tugged a hank of Shamal's dark brown hair to gain his attention, then gave him a level look. "You should've known better and just pointed me out instead of run off on your own. I might be safe, but this place isn't nearly so. Don't do it again."

It earned her a puppy pout, but she ignored it and turned to the hitman. "So, what brings you both here? I thought you weren't letting Shamal out of Italy?"

"Medical records." Renato admitted flatly. "Mostly vaccinations, but since I don't have anything he needs aside a reissued copy of his birth certificate? I figured going through Mafia Land for them instead of Nono would cost me less. Miss Primakova, would it be possible for you to recommend a doctor for him?"

"You're missing a lot of things for him, aren't you?"

"They burned the brat's house down and I picked him up after dealing with that, it was kind of unavoidable."

"You could probably use Sonya's physician. Tell Doctor Kappel the kid is what he is, and he'll make an exception." Tatiana chipped in before that conversation could go anywhere else. "He's trying to document any and all health risk Flame users are subjected to, so he'll take the kid on even if he's not a pediatrician."

She switched to English for her next question, out of respect to how much upset the topic had already caused the child in her arms. "Did you ever find out his last name? Or is he still using mine?"

"I found it. He promptly misspelled it with what little he recalled of your writing lessons trying to memorize it and now everyone thinks his last name was tridente and not Tringali. Trident is now his middle name, we're still using yours for his schooling." Sighing, the older Italian swept his fedora off and raked a hand through his spiky hair before pressing it back on firmly. "We will fix it later, when he's old enough to understand. Now… what is this about your physician's interest in Dying Will Flame users?"

"You are not allowed to harm or intimidate Doctor Kappel. We would like to keep him, thank you."

Renato attempted an innocent look.

It wasn't working any better than the last time he tried that on her.

"Sonya did that intimidation thing already, breaking the poor Doctor's office walls with a kick." Tatiana confided to the hitman in an overly loud voice, which made even Shamal look at the thief in surprise.

Scowling, Sonya stuck her nose in the air. "Reflexology tests are stupid, especially when you do it to a woman that has and can shatter concrete with a finger. I tried to tell him that."

"No, you didn't. You just refused to cooperate." The redhead countered wickedly, hand on her hip and flicking the other hand to dismiss that attempt to justify herself. "Don't be a difficult patient, kid. Sonya broke her foot doing that."

Shamal looked torn between maybe obeying the redhaired lady and copying his adored Miss Sonya.

"Listen to Tats, kid. She's a nurse."

"Going somewhere?" Renato asked, toeing then lightly kicking one of their suitcases.

"France, for topless and or nude sunbathing with a side order of swimming. I need the break." Tatiana informed him cheerfully, a smirk crawling up her face. "Hey, want to come with? The last guy we asked along to rub suntan lotion on us refused."

"…what?"

"I thought we invited him along for a month of sex?" The younger foster sister asked of the elder, a bit confused. "I mean, I know you also asked him to do that too… but he had refused to come with before that."

The nurse beamed at her. "Oh Sonya, I love you so much right now."

"…WHAT?"

"Stop shouting." Sonya snapped, irritated. "And what are you shouting 'what' for?"

Renato gaped at her, dropped his eyes to the very confused brat in her arms, looked back up at the irritated thief, and then shut his mouth.

Huffing at that unhelpful reaction, she looked down at the confused baby Mist herself. "We're leaving shortly kid, sorry. Behave for the doctor, though. And stop running off."

"Aww… do you have to, Miss Sonya?"

"I actually have something to do in France I've been meaning to get around to for a couple years now, yes." She confirmed bluntly, giving him a squeeze before setting him down. "I'll probably see you this winter, okay?"

"Ladies… I wouldn't happen to know this man, or could get his name… could I?"

"Nope!" Tatiana cheerfully denied, then gave her little sister a sideways look. "This isn't a heist for you, right? I was pretty sure this was just supposed to be a break."

"It is a break, but there's something I've been interested in that came from that country which I have never been able to find myself. So, I'm going to hire a private investigator while we spend the month on the beach to do all the running around instead of me."

"I like that plan." Bending to scoop up her luggage, the nurse shifted it to one hand in order to waggle her fingers at both Italians. "Gentlemen, if you will excuse us. Our ship leaves in only an hour."

Sonya pressed a kiss to Shamal's forehead herself before picking up her own suitcases. "Behave, brat. I will hear of it if you don't."

"Okay Miss Sonya."

"Sonya… are… is…?" Renato rubbed the back of his neck, looking slightly conflicted. "…have fun?"

"Thanks. Oh, before I forget." Dropping one of her cases, she dug the hitman's bullet out of her pocket. "I kept on forgetting to give this back to you."

He picked it up, then dug an exact copy out of his own pocket.

"Yeah, that should last a couple more days at least."

"…you can make indefinite copies?"

"Of course not. As long as I have a reminder of what they should be, they last a couple months. If I don't, a couple days will make them fade."

"…you sure I can't get the name of this man you invited along? I really only want to ask him a few questions."

"I do believe Tats said no, Renato." The thief reminded him bemusedly.

(Thursday the 1st of August, 1968. Antwerp, Kingdom of Belgium)

"Aww… leaving already?"

Viper gave a brisk nod, the rest of the stuff s/he had to his/her name packing itself in a use of Mist Flames Cherep nearly didn't believe.

Why were all the other Flame types so much more interesting than his?

At least he shared them with Sonya, which made him at least fond of his own Cloud Flames.

"This was only temporary, however interesting the diversion became." The users of those Mist Flames informed him blandly, scorning the one bright and cheerful outfit s/he had been given when s/he joined.

Cherep needed a better gender term for him/her. He couldn't really bring himself to call the Mist an 'it' even if only in his head. "I am sorry to see you go, you were pretty interesting yourself."

"Says the Cloud Flame stuntman wasting his immortality on show business?" The illusionist smirked over at him. "Mou, I can think of so many other ways to use that immunity to death if you would-"

"Nope. Pacifist. Besides, Sonya would hunt you down and commit heinous acts with your corpse if you tried anything with me and she found out. Which she would, the moment she checks in with the circus again."

"Hmm… well, even I would have to admit that is a respectable downside. She doesn't even need to disbelieve my Construction, she just tore through it." Admitted Viper sourly, shouldering a pack of his/her things over his/her shoulder. "It was… unnerving."

"I'll convey your compliment to her." The stuntman promised in a deadpan tone.

"Do so, she does have interesting advice occasionally." The Mist informed him with a sharp nod, turning to the exit of the little tent Crina both lived and worked out of. "Mou… she was almost as interesting as you are."

"Yeah well, that's my little sister for you. A bit too interesting for her own good." Curious enough to kill a cat actually, as well as socially blind as a bat.

Not to mention entirely unapologetic about anything and everything.

"Will I at least see you around, Viper?"

"…anything is possible."