Author's Note : I'm rejecting October ever happened. Nope. Updates will continue to be spaced out until next year February or perhaps even later due to… non-happenings.
In the final scene of the last chapter, the insult Mauricio told Skull was (roughly translated since the Rain doesn't actually speak Vietnamese but learning insults in various languages is always fun to do): You eat pubic hair with salt-dip.
Russian Roulette : Second Chamber
Chapter 37
(Friday the 20th of November, 1970. Governor's Office, Hong Kong, People's Republic of China.)
Leaning back slightly to allow the older fisher-woman enough space to refill his teacup, the scars on both hands spoke of nets and lines being pulled taught constantly over the years to the point permanent notches had formed which made the woman somewhat clumsy with even drudgery, Xue Wuying wearily bent back over the proposal to scrutinize the rest of the fine print once she removed the hot pot from his face.
He only looked up once, when the rustle of papers alerted him to someone moving his work. However it was only the old woman, hunting through yesterday's paper in order to collect the cold remains and abandoned plates of his dinner to sort away.
She was at least practical about her disruption. Any open files were immediately closed without a glance and if there were loose pages, she placed them inside whatever reference was open nearby before stacking them together at the edges of whichever surface. They were left in place but closed against errant drops of water or any stray breezes.
In fact, given the utter lack of any sorting attempt he suspected the old woman couldn't read.
Well, what need did a fisherman's wife have for reading?
Sourly resigning himself to spending valuable time later in the morning cleaning up her 'cleanup' and finding all the relevant files for his current proposal, he still kept half an eye on her movements to positively conclude if it was inability or just apathy while he hunted through the typed document for a few phrases he was certain he had seen some time ago.
He did like the idea of an illiterate housekeeper, and he made a note on a separate scrap of paper to look into one once he had more sleep.
Sometime later, from the look of the clock near three in the morning, his usual secretary came back from her 'personal' time and spoke with her elder if newer worker quietly out in the hall. The next thing Wuying knew, a massive beast of a dog was running amok in his office.
The massive soot-black mongrel ducked his secretary's reaching hands nimbly, the dishes that fell out of the fishwife maid's gnarled hands as she was knocked backwards, surged ahead of the thrown pages he chucked at the creature to deter whatever aim it had, and snatched up one of the closed law books in it's jaws. Then it barely ducked the broom held by the new woman in an attempt to smack the beast, practically bowled over the younger girl who attempted to block it's way and ran out into the night with the stolen papers.
All within five seconds.
Not remotely daunted, the elder maid took up her broken broom and chased after the mongrel. It took less than two seconds for his secretary to scramble after… once she met his eyes and realized she would bear full blame for the dog sneaking in and stealing those papers if the beast wasn't caught.
Disgusted at the farce, although now more awake than he had been with the help of any number of cups of tea, Wuying irritably started putting his office to rights after both the dog and old woman made a mess of it.
Three streets away, a now pale-bright dog absently shook out his wet fur much to the distaste of Hong Kong's late-night street traffic. The blonde that accompanied the animal ensured no one said much or tried to chase off the animal, even as a fair number of passersby's thought unkind things of tourists in general as they passed the growing puddles of dirty grey water streaming from the animal's pale grey fur.
The grey eyed woman glanced down the street she just turned onto, not the way the two came from but the direction further away from where she intended to go. In the end, she merely nudged her distracted canine companion on and tucked the book full of documents into her tote-like purse.
(Sunday the 22nd of November, 1970. Kowloon City, Hong Kong, People's Republic of China.)
Given the cramped and closed in environment in this slice of the squatter slums, a flickering light was not all that remarkable. There was a wealth of such faulty electrical sockets around, why this one needed immediate replacement… it wasn't even like it would impede his view on just who wanted a round with the girls and who hurried on past down the street.
Swearing under his breath, Wei licked his fingertips before hastily unscrewing the troubled fixture. The hot glass still seared his skin, and he let the hot glass bulb shatter on the concrete below uncaringly for being this troublesome. Blindly, he pulled the replacement from a small sack and fumbled it only for a few moments until the threads caught and he could screw it in.
Annoyingly, the light continued to flicker even with a new filament to burn.
Then someone slapped him roughly upside the head. "You idiot, if we just needed a replacement then we just would've gotten one of the runts to do it."
Wei shot his older associate a sour glare. "Ruling out the obvious, asshole. Now we know it's a wiring issue, or power supply."
"You're fucking useless. Get back to your post, I'll fix the damn thing."
Not stupid enough to spit at the man's feet, while he was watching for it anyways, Wei held it in until the man prowled off as if he had a reasonable excuse to duck into the brothel they were keeping an eye on. Yanking the slightly ajar door into the apartment they took over due to the windows overlooking the right angles on the side streets, he had to make a point to shut it tightly behind him because the asshole apparently was too good to ensure the door was shut right.
Annoyingly, the wiring across the street seemed to settle down and the light went back to burning steadily. For all a boring half of an hour before it went back to flickering.
Wei decided that if doing the 'repair' work wouldn't cut it, he'd punch the wall. Much to his own surprise, it worked.
While he was out of position and so distracted, he didn't see the doorway he had shut behind himself inch open again. Didn't spot the woman sliding up the wall and hauling herself onto the overhang he had been lounging under while 'on-guard', nor did he see her vault over the little cramped alleyway to the roof of the building he had been spying upon over his head.
Sonya worked her way down to street level again, paying off the kid holding Alek's leash for her and kicked a loose knot of wiring for almost half an hour with his surprisingly decent footwear. The dirty kid who ran messages for the Sun Yee On Triads gave her a gap-toothed grin before running off, happy to have been paid to screw with their 'rivals', the 14K Triads, without risking his own skin.
Alek gave her a grumpy glare, for the crime of abandoning him to a street urchin for a full hour.
Tight confines meant her dog had to sit this one out, but thankfully she was of the opinion he could accompany her on their next rush-job.
(ooo000ooo)
(Sunday the 22nd of November, 1970 continued. Nurses' Office, Moscow School #3054, Moscow, Russian Soviet Federative Socialist Republic.)
In between the accidentally-on-purpose gunshot wound to the calf one kid dragged his sorry carcass into her clinic for healing and the tentative full workup her dad wanted done to some kid not a Zolotov nor a school student but he was minding anyways as if he was, Tatiana pored over the files Lisa got for her.
Her parents' medical charts, such as there was of them.
She didn't exactly know if her foster mom did it herself or tasked one of her growing pool of enthusiastic if somewhat painfully green students to do it for her, but in the end she got what she needed without having to exert the effort herself. With that limitation in mind, if it hadn't been herself or someone else she fully trusted to chase down every and all lose ends then there was possibly more out there to be dug up, the redhead still couldn't figure out how her arches had fallen.
It might not be genetic, in other words. Insofar as old medical records could tell her.
Her biological parents died young, after all. Perhaps there was the possibility either might've ended up with fallen arches too… they just didn't live as long as Tatiana had to suffer from it or kept their traps shut about how badly their feet hurt because what didn't hurt while they lived?
Slumping into her comfortably padded rolling office chair and letting the files fall to her desk, the Sun plucked the pins holding her heavy hair up into a sensible bun now the school day was mostly done. She was starting to get a headache, after pouring over the cramped and hurried notations from random doctors from decades ago trying to divine a start to a problem that might never had been a problem for her long dead parents.
That she couldn't find a similar issue in either biological parent wasn't damning evidence, truthfully. As she was a Sun Flame user, she could've equally just had weak arches and she accidentally healed her own feet flat after stress bent them micro-fracture by micro-fracture out of place.
Which was a terrible, horrible mental ponder to wander down as she still couldn't say if the problem was genetic.
It would be easy to blame her Flames, as it took only a few moments of thought to wonder if her Flame use had any possible drawbacks to them just like 'Storms may end up starving to death' or 'Clouds might just end up breaking everything they touch'… but that would be borrowing heavily from her little sister's paranoia about good things that happen to her.
If it was possible then just investing in arch support should have her accidentally healing her arches, so… she'd just have to wait and see how her feet flexed in the coming years. If it did happen, then joy. If it didn't, it wasn't like there was anything she could do about it.
Maybe if she begged Ganauche really prettily he'd buy her another pair of shoes from her little sister's master boot maker. It wasn't like she'd be able to afford another on her own kopeck any time soon, the pay a school nurse got was pathetic and Lisa couldn't 'encourage' the sums to a more respectable amount until after they finished accounting every little bit for tax season so what was hidden could be doled out to their more extra-curricular lessons not quite on anyone's books.
Getting up from her desk, the Mafia Land nurse wandered leisurely over to her only remaining patient on the day she really didn't normally have any. "Alright, let's take another look at it Miron."
The Flame-less kid grumbled sourly, pissed off his fat mouth got him into trouble or that someone had the balls to make him pay for it. Then again the kid that shot him, 'accidentally' or not, got his ass suspended for a full week by Yalin and was unceremoniously kicked out of the rifle shooting club in consequence. Tatiana, and therefore most of the student body sticking around every weekend, knew full well the principal would require negotiations with his syndicate on if the errant shooter would even be allowed back to school… but regardless if he was allowed back or not the kid would never be allowed in the gun range while armed ever again.
He'd also be closely watched by the staff if he got to return, because if he was to the point of willing and able to shoot another student because they had a big fat mouth then he was a little beyond the usual level of hotheaded brats they had.
…well, then again… they had students fully and able to break another's bone if they got lucky, wasn't that as destructive than a kid who could pull a trigger wantonly?
Tatiana was very glad her mother got to solve that headache instead of her.
Peeling off the bandages, which were really more for show and to remind the kid to take it easy than to keep an injury already sealed over with fresh skin from being contaminated, the Sun studied the puffy and angry skin around the site he had been shot in before tightly wrapping the bandage back around his leg. "Mmm… it's going to be sore as fuck, and I can't risk doing more than I have just in case your body decides to degrade or mutate instead of heal. Painkillers?"
"…yes."
He also probably needed an anti-inflammatory, but not an anti-coagulant, and aside compression bandaging for the first day then it'd need just raising the injured limb higher than his torso for a couple hours every day. She had healed over the skin, but that just meant he was still freely bleeding in his leg where the bullet ripped through him. Thankfully reporting the injury as a 'torn muscle, calf' would invite a hell of a lot less scrutiny than 'gunshot, calf' would.
Miron would be visiting her for months to get his leg fixed, the best she could do for a kid with no Dying Will Flames. Just as he'd have to in order to keep his gunshot wound healed the normal way. Being the case, she just measured out the medication that would get him from now to tomorrow morning without agonizing pain.
"I'm also going to give you a crutch. And before you even start," handing the kid with a paper cup of three pills and a water cup to wash them down with a pointed frown to get him to take them, "your leg will heal better if you refrain from walking fully on it. In half an hour you won't feel the pain, which means you can entirely make it worse if you don't use them. Do yourself, and my ass, a favor and use the fucking crutches."
"Fine."
"And. You're getting express delivered to your home-"
"Let's not."
"Then to the boy's dorms, you can claim I said so to keep an eye on your leg."
Miron didn't thank her, but that he relaxed back into the cot was good enough for her. After an off-beat of silence whomever of the Mist Web that oversaw all medical emergencies whisked the kid off to start his recovery, leaving behind only three separate smears of blood and all the leftover detritus of sterilized medical packaging.
The nurse sighed heavily at the sight, then fetched the mop.
Mafia Land's hospital had an entire janitorial staff to handle post-op cleanup and re-sterilization of all equipment, but Lisa didn't need a whole operation but a singular nurse to keep everyone alive and make the call if more professionals were needed. Which meant she got to scrub down not only the streaks of dried blood on the floor but bleach the cot and dunk all her tools in hydrogen peroxide until she could scrub them down or dispose of the remains.
Sometime in the middle of all that another agent of the Russian Web delivered mail. Half the reason she suspected Yalin held the rifle club meetings Sunday afternoon was due to all mail collected over the weekend was delivered in the latter half of Sunday, the other half being how loud discharging rifles were made it impractical to hold his club's practice during or close to the school's operating hours.
The hotel wanted more money to keep her reservation and not evict her illegal ass, some idiot didn't think her dad would take exception to a totally see-through invitation to get herself kidnapped or blackmailed or whatever and couldn't be arsed enough to physically show up to get his hide beaten, then…
…then Vongola issued her an invitation to their Christmas Ball, as Ganauche's date.
Well.
Tatiana's lips twitched as she realized what her boyfriend really wanted to ask before being pried away from the phone the last time he could check in with her. Such a pity Coyote hung up on her rather unceremoniously, and apparently Fiorella Vongola had thought the two of them were enough of an item to not have checked with her Home Tutor's eldest daughter on her now every other day phone calls.
She didn't really mind, the nurse was curious enough over the Balls her sister had attended to want to go and of course she'd love to put aside a couple days to spend with her boyfriend early. The fact she got to dress up for it?
Bonus.
…did her mom get one?
She'd check in with Sonya to see if she'd be going this year or wanted to spend it at home with her brat, and see if her baby sis wouldn't mind helping her shop for a dress with or without Lisa. Setting the invitation to a side, she'd need it to get past the Iron Fort's gates apparently, Tatiana scanned the rest of the letters and tucked the encrypted Mafia Land bulletin board that masqueraded nurse's magazine for cutting-edge medical updates into her purse for later perusal.
Nothing else was quite so interesting, so with invitation in hand she went to go see if Lisa had one or not. She'd refrain from sending her acceptance until Ganauche could actually get the time to ask her, but there wasn't any such rules of etiquette needed to see if she had to be on her best behavior or could do her little sister's thing by just showing up and entertaining herself on the night in question.
She was betting the older woman did or would be getting her own invitation, Fiorella seemed that kind of nice person to think of including her mom and whomever she might want to invite.
A good thing she suspected Sonya was going to do Christmas at home, they could all then use her castle as a temporary headquarters and just do their own Christmas thing there instead of need to come back to Russia for it.
…it'd be really fun if Cherep thought to invite Viper back again this year. Maybe with enough hands they could keep Sonya from hyper-focusing on the tall, dark, and snarky hole in her life.
(Tuesday the 24th of November, 1970. Wo Hop To Triad's Compound, Wan Chai District, Hong Kong, People's Republic of China.)
"Don't you have… other Flame users at the school in Moscow?" Sonya, taking specific pangs to keep her tone politely curious instead of sarcastic or derisive, inquired of Zhōng from the edge of the room.
"Do you perhaps feel as if they might be too young for her?"
"I think younger than her, and therefore less… uh, opinionated, might actually be an improvement. Over… this."
Duyi, equally as intently ensuring the Storm attempting to chat up his niece as insultingly as possible without getting Fong to brutally murder him for it was fully aware of his attention, merely narrowed his already narrow gaze further without looking away from the 'conversation' they were watching. "A decent suggestion to look into, Miss Bazanova."
Maybe, it was possible… that neither she nor Fong were really all that fond of any of the other Storms brought in for Nuan to get a feel of. They both apparently had an entirely petty grudge against the whole 'young Sky needing them to bring in incompetent Storms to do what neither of them were fit for' situation. They'd do so, of course… but it set them both on edge every damn night.
Trying not to blame the girl sometimes made for awkward moments.
However. Zhōng did not seem all that pleased with the latest Storm Guardian candidate, so the thief was tentatively sure this crass behavior she kept seeing in him wasn't all in her head. Or Fong's head.
…mostly. The older guy was still the little Sky's uncle. There might be another reason he was so intent on the girl's interactions with a non-Wo Triads tough.
The Triad Princess was doing decently well in her Sky Flame lessons. Probably. Sonya never taught a Sky anything before to have a remote idea what the general range of competence was. Between herself and 'historically documented behaviors' pieced together from old 'mouth-to-ear' say so from past Wo Hop To Triad Skies the girl was showing decent progression on 'standard Flame tricks' and not so much in 'Sky-centric abilities'.
Due to Sonya having no remote clue what 'Harmony' was applicable to, and Nuan being in that part of having a new skill of being unsure what to start experimenting with as there were too many possible subjects to start on to know where to begin, there was no indication of just when the girl would be ready for her first Guardian or how much help she still needed. That left them setting time aside every few days for a circus like this meet-n-greet.
Quite frankly, this might be the best of these little evening nights in. However sexist and arrogant one of the latest 'hopefuls' were.
"You are all aware, of course, that you are not entitled to be the Princess' Guardian… right?" Asked the thief to the room in general, not expressly to the slick asshole trying to manipulate Nuan into whatever. "We are merely looking for a fit in general before making any further decisions."
That the Princess looked relived at her interjection spoke volumes. This also reminded the cocky Storm there were three others in the room, two Wo Clan Triads Flame users and a random one Zhōng brought in from somewhere. A Rain, Sun, and Lightning to hopefully compliment the Storm.
None of whom did anything to separate the Storm from the slightly distressed Sky, so none of them were remotely acceptable either.
Not that it was entirely the young Sun's fault, Nuan rejected him entirely by instinct upon meeting him and the surprisingly jolly guy took the news as well as any unattached Flame user might. He then kept as far out of her sight as he could get away with while still being in in the same room as he was probably ordered. Which was unfortunate, he had the best nature to him by a long shot and the news that the Sky had been as surprised as he had been at being deemed unsuitable on sight salved his pride a little.
The Rain, being a Rain and apparently known to the Sun, had been keeping him company half hidden in a corner. Nice of him and all, but that left the Sky rather isolated through no intent of her own. The Lightning, the guy brought in from who knew where, was entirely too much a follower to be anyone's first pick for a life-long companion. There were reasons for their behavior, it just wasn't to Nuan's benefit and therefore likely the whole room of Flame users were utterly incompatible to the young Sky.
Having brought herself to pointed attention, the thief decided it might as well be time to call it a night. A little bit early, for them all at least given she still had to work around this bullshit, but given the Sun's situation and how the Rain responded then they might as well. As they all already knew that Storm was getting nowhere close to Nuan ever again no matter what.
She'd bet a hefty sum neither she nor Fong wanted that sick excuse for a Storm to succeed where neither of them suited.
Sonya had been attempting to not 'overtly influence' the girl with her less than savory habits, like being rude as hell when it suited the situation or just her general mood. Given the polite second of attention she got from the Triad Head rather patiently sitting through this attempt at manipulating his niece into something she very probably didn't want… she had the feeling she'd be forgiven this once.
Or not… but frankly given she had spent a whole fucking month on this shit Zhōng really had no room to complain about her behavior.
Then again, he had immediately returned to likely plotting out that Storm's messy death in short order. So.
"I'm tired. I'm going to bed. Since you've paid me to go nowhere important without your niece… I guess I'm taking her off now too." Without waiting for his response to that bold-face lie, or anyone else's for that matter, Sonya very blandly crossed the room to take possession of said Sky.
Who didn't remotely try to protest the idea of calling it a night, unlike the last three times they did this.
(ooo000ooo)
(Tuesday the 24th of November, 1970 continued. Wo Hop To Triad's Compound, Wan Chai District, Hong Kong, People's Republic of China.)
"I've got the suspicions we're not really helping."
Fong regarded Sonya skeptically over his tea. "How can you say that?"
She waved a hand while swallowing her last bite of rice, gesturing out the dinning hall's window and the night's gloom lurking beyond the lit lanterns. "I mean in general, not situationally. I think between the two of us, little Triad Princess doesn't feel a need for a 'Guardian' type. You're the most powerful Storm in China, probably, and I'm not so rusty a Cloud myself. Why the hell would she need another? She doesn't understand 'Harmony' any better than the both of us do."
"Well," he managed after a moment, privately doubting how much influence they actually had on Nuan's Sky Flames since she couldn't do anything substantial to them, "when you leave in a week then there should be a change…"
"Yeah… speaking of." The thief gave him a fairly pointed look as she abandoned the remains of their late meal, picking up her pipe that had changed again in form and design to light. "You need to think about maybe taking a step back too."
"Sonya-"
"She's eventually going to get a Storm. And I don't know about you but when some little snot with big ideas tries to take over for my work when I don't want them to, I get a little testy." She continued blandly but insistently, eyes on her packed bowl full of dried leaves more than his stony expression. "Not that I let that happen more than that once. Stupid ass fucking bullshit."
"Being forced to stand by while a less experience fellow takes over can be grating." Fong simply agreed, settling back with his tea pointedly.
Sonya flatly ignored his attempt to derail that line of conversation, pressing a thumb into the bowl of her pipe to light it. "And really, that explains so much on how you're so fucking useless when trying to teach."
He sighed tiredly.
While Sonya was more known for her Cloud Flames, she was still a Storm as well. Storms under stress tended to get… argumentative. Especially with one another.
He suspected, but likely would never be able to prove, that however 'muffled' she claimed to be… even Sonya chaffed with such a constant tease of Sky Flames held close to her person. He refused to believe he was the only one unsettled in this situation, and her behavior tonight had been markedly worse than how she held herself back at the start.
Partially why, even when given the opportunity to immerse himself in the company of his fellow Wo clan Flame users… he was here instead. Letting Sonya attempt to pick a fight to make herself feel better after what was her lunch and a late pre-bed meal for him while nursing a cup of tea instead.
…or, perhaps, she was feeling normally and just wished for an argument to feed her other Flame nature that thrived on violence. This was not, by far, the first time she attempted to 'get a rise out of him' just to get into a quick fistfight Zhōng would be irritated by.
Fong grimaced at his train of thought. Wondering if, even if Duyi would be highly displeased with him, if he should let her succeed with picking a fight. They both would feel better…
While he was contemplating the risks and worth of that idea, the clack of many hard claws on firm material herald the return of Alek. The off-white canine, who would bark up a storm if anyone he didn't approve of approached Nuan when she wanted privacy from even her own bodyguards and the only one he ever approved of was Sonya herself, darted around Fong's form to dive for his owner's lap unfettered from chasers or any censure for an animal in the dining hall.
The thief made a noise of physical exertion as the fluffy cloud of dog made himself comfortable, faked to his ear. "You're getting spoiled with all those kitchen scraps, brat."
Very likely, Huang's fondness for the woman had transferred to the admittedly very spoiled animal to the point all Alek had to do was wander near the kitchen to get a tasty treat. Not that it earned him much consideration in return from the beast, he still only followed Sonya's orders and barely heeded Fong's. He suspected the only reason the dog occasionally obeyed him, and now Nuan, was due to his owner making it clear he should without indicating a point it could stop.
Alek deemed the comment below his station to acknowledge, whacking his mistress's ribs and knee with his banner of a tail as he made himself comfortable.
"I apologize for stealing your dog, again." Spoke the Sky in question softly as she followed the animal back to them more sedately, accepting a cup of chamomile tea Fong poured for her with a simply thankful nod as she set the unused leash on the low table. "But, Sonya, may I ask… just what are we looking for in these nights? I didn't ask, admittedly because I thought I knew. Kind of. Or that I would know when it happens… but. Nothing has happened. Well, nothing good."
"You probably will know when it happens." A sharp grey eye inspected the older girl for a moment before the thief returned to puffing on her pipe. "As to what we're looking for… your guess is as good as ours. From what I know of Italian Guardians… what we're looking for is someone with specific Flames willing to follow your lead. Preferably ones without agendas. Which seems to be our issue right now."
He lifted a hand from his neglected teacup to interject. "There are only so many Flame users in China, most are part of either a Triad or beholden to one. Even if, that will not change."
"That part I get." Countered Sonya sourly, waving her pipe in a pattern in the air to make a mess out of the smoke streaming from the bowl. "And frankly, that much shouldn't be such an obstacle. Who cares? Everyone comes from something, and those beginnings leave behind marks of such places or people. It's fine you might be proud of where you come from, it's the whole 'either be married off to her or use her to get to her uncle' things I don't get."
"From what I know of politics… isn't that standard?"
The Cloud gave him a flat look over her dog's back. "Yes. But. The other principle of politics is 'tit for tat'. What, exactly, is the Princess supposed to get out of being used this way? That's my main issue, none of these assholes had anything to offer to make up for their bullshit."
Nuan kept an expression of polite attention on the woman, but leaned over to address him. "Is she more annoyed by the lack of consideration, or by the advantage taken of these nights for what she's deeming 'unbeneficial' reasons?"
"Flip a coin," Fong advised blandly, to her slight amusement, "then pick the other option. I believe she's feeling contrary tonight."
The thief made a rude noise in her defense, ignoring her animal that decided it was her asking for doggy kisses and must want them now. Planting an arm over the back of his neck to keep him from doing expressly that, she leaned forward and jabbed the still smoldering pipe at the Sky. "I think your uncle's reputation is getting in your way. Aside the other details… we need to find someone more interested in you than what your uncle can do for them. Probably. And that won't happen anytime soon, while all the idiots with the connections but not the situation get their five minutes in before those we actually want to see can force their way though."
Nuan sighed over her teacup, draining it and discarding it to the table with a disgruntled pout. "Probably. Possibly. Perhaps. Maybe. Is there nothing you can tell me that is based solidly in fact? I know you said this is the worst part… but… when will it get better?"
"I'm not a Sky."
Carefully placing the dishes in front of her place at the low table to a side, the girl slumped over the table. "I was afraid you might say that."
"…I might. Possibly." Smirking lopsidedly at the grumpy look shot up at her, she lost the smirk when glancing over to Fong. "I owe a Sky back in Italy a fairly massive favor. I wonder how valuable getting to help set up a Sky might be, politically. Even if your Asian and he's European, the man is the head assassin for the Vongola Famigila and he might just be able to help give you firmer structure. If you so feel the need for it."
He blinked slowly. "And what, pray tell, do you intend to offer in exchange for us fulfilling your debts?"
"I won't charge you through the nose for this whole last month, or drag out what you owe me for dropping everything on your whims."
Fong scratched the side of his face while glancing away, slightly chagrined by the reminder he hadn't put any limit on what she might demand in return for doing exactly that without question. Well, many questions. "I see."
He had been in a rush… and the reason had been dire indeed, but frankly… if he ever had to do it again he'd at least confine what the thief could take in return before gaining her help. He had been dreading the end, and the start of her Lackey's involvement for expressly that negotiation for services already rendered.
Live and learn…
Nuan sat back upright, curiously glancing between them again. "I thought you two were friends?"
"Eh… sure."
Ah. Well. Success.
Sonya continued without pause, or indeed looking at either of them. "We're associates. He's got business with me, I've got business with him, and we sometimes do certain things in the same vicinity. From your perspective, we are friends. With a lack of anyone else or reason to focus upon around, we'll probably end up talking without any other distraction."
"And, when I have business her skills might help with, I hire her first. Likewise, if she has need for another body, she is likely to hire me in return." That was the basics of 'associates', although he did not know what situation if any she might return the 'favor' of being a known associate to him. "Rarely. Possibly sometime in the future."
The woman rolled her eyes, petting her canine as his attention waned and defaulted to wanting pets by the hand not holding a burning pipe. "When I need a physically involved distraction, Fong's safer to pick a fight with than anyone else I know. He can survive me being ill-tempered and violent, which itches a scratch with my Cloud Flames better than anything else I've tried yet. Aside whole-scale slaughter, and I'm not a fan of that kind of waste… intellectually."
"…ah." Managed the Sky after a moment to absorb all that, trying to fight a smirk and failing spectacularly. "So… it's merely a physical relationship?"
Fong exasperatedly pinched the bridge of his nose.
Then Sonya made it all worse before he could muster any idea of how to derail that assumption. "Pretty much, yeah."
…he was likely never going to stop hearing about his 'relationship' with her now.
Nuan just barely managed to straighten out her expression to something only 'delighted', from what he could see around his own fingers. "Aa. That is… well. Interesting. Yes, interesting. Very interesting."
Fong forced himself to look back up at the slightly nonplussed thief now confused over her change in demeanor. "Don't you have another job in Hong Kong tonight?"
Sonya glanced at him skeptically, back to the young Sky, then back again. "Do I want to know what I just said?"
"No. I will take care of it."
"…sure. I have another job. Yeah." Slowly, and deliberately enough her canine had ample warning of her movements even if he persisted in remaining in her lap to the last second, she rose to her feet and wandered off. Shooting exactly two suspicious looks behind her before she left the room altogether and dogged by a dog the whole way.
Nuan attempted a professional expression of polite attention when he glanced over. Her attempt was ruined by remaining entirely too amused. "Uncle would like to see you, Master Fong. About… well, you burning down an entire warehouse district in an hour. The, um… men he sent to Tuguegarao City came back…"
Well, Sonya would be happy at least. Fong had the suspicions he was about to get exiled again… at least until the more disruptive assassination attempts slowed down to a reasonable trickle. Perhaps he should mention the Sky Sonya owed a favor to as an alternate aid for the young woman before he had to leave, since he suspected the thief didn't intend to linger much longer beyond his leave-taking herself.
"How much do I have to pay in order for you not to spread her words around?"
The Sky merely smiled brightly before scrambling for the far end of the hall. "Goodnight, Master Fong! I shall see you again in the morning."
(Wednesday the 25th of November, 1970. Hong Kong, People's Republic of China.)
Hanging up the phone once Bjǫrn confirmed he had nothing else, Sonya eyed the number she wrote down on the back of her left hand while she waited for the line to reset. Counting out five slow seconds and putting the pen between her teeth for safekeeping, she then picked the receiver back up and started the laborious process of dialing in an American number on a decade-old Chinese rotary phone.
Somewhere behind her there was a rather feminine screech of outrage and something smashed, interspersed with Alek barking his fool head off for some reason. A bit loud for a mid-morning hour, but she needed the distraction anyways so she didn't go to see what he was excited about.
With a heavy sigh and a roll of her eyes, she did glance backwards and out the door for a second just to ensure her dog wasn't getting close to caught yet before returning her attention to the operator asking if she was really sure she wanted them to connect her to the United States.
After taking the pen out of her mouth. "Yes, thank you."
"…very well, miss. The charges-"
"To this number." She didn't really know who owned the number, obviously not the front-thing her dog was disrupting with such glee, nor did she care.
"…one moment. Connecting."
Sonya adjusted the angle she was perched off two walls at, relieving the pressure on her left ankle while she waited for them to get on with it. Obviously her call was going to be tapped, she didn't need the newest operator at whatever switchboard fumbling his way through setting it up on her to know it.
Hopefully the girl she was trying to reach was close enough to a phone that she wouldn't have to wait long, she wasn't actually sure how well Alek would do on his very first solo-distraction job and preferred not to get rushed through this conversation.
Something else weighty and heavy crashed into either a wall or the floor, the racket accompanied by said someone's outraged shout and more barks echoing back to the side room of this little working office. More importantly the tremors it caused in the building fouled her grip on the walls, making the thief slide an inch down the gritty-feeling paint to about eye-level to anyone just walking into the room.
Muttering dire things about the architects, or more likely the day-laborers hired to make sense of an overworked and overrun architect's plans on their own, she worked and shimmied her way back up the wall while her dog did something significantly less impactful but apparently more annoying given the tone of the shouts now.
Before she reached her preferred height, there was an almost snap-like click in her ear. "What?"
…interesting tone to take to a caller.
"Are you bored of America yet?" Sonya asked Klavdia tonelessly, giving up with the clandestine part of this illegal phone call and allowing herself to drop to the floor to stand normally.
The whole point of letting her dog run free for a distraction was so she didn't have to be in weird or unusual postures to get shit done.
"…it's only been a month." Claimed the teenage Sun half the world away sourly. "Admittedly there's a lot of… information available over here I haven't gotten my hands on before. Your little converted minion man has been adequately helpful in getting me access to interesting things."
What?
Sonya blinked twice, wondering just what the hell the girl was talking about. "…did you find a public library?"
"Not… not the kind of libraries we're used to. An uncensored one, that'll put books in other libraries on hold for you if they don't have the same volume available." After an awkward second, the girl cleared her throat uncomfortably and tried to affect a less enthusiastic tone. "Anyways. That and the local museum's current exhibition is reason enough to stick it out a couple more months. Matt's been almost falling over himself to help me out, hope you don't mind my appropriation of his… good faith."
…the hell did she think she had in San Jose?
She didn't recall having anyone… in… huh. It was either the big man or the long-suffering idiot that tried to mitigate her influences on the one class she taught. She didn't exactly remember anyone around Renato's… his date-nights things.
The question was… the dyslexic guy or the wise guy?
Could she recall either's name?
"Does Matt still have that book of crosswords with him?"
"He said to tell you he's upgraded to the crosswords in the newspapers, apparently." Confirmed the Sun blandly, proving the thief recalled at least one part correctly and without making an ass out of herself for once. "Bit thick, useful to distract others in the moment…"
Hopefully she was thinking of the right man. "A little old for you."
"He's not much of a looker, either." Klavdia shot back without missing a beat. "I need muscle with the age to be taken seriously when I need the booze to ignore the utter bullshit, not hormonal bullshit."
Fuck's sake. Someone save her from bratty teenagers. "Well, if you're done singing Matt's praises…?"
A grumpy huff was her first response. "I'm Russian in a knot of Italian-Americans, the amount of locals that will talk to me is pitifully low. The only ones that make an exception are the ones you've made an 'impression' on."
"It was the same thing when you moved to the island."
"No, it's different. Slightly, but it is. The culture's… not as… it's not frictionless. There were other Russians there, here there's only… those adult students that like hanging around the communist-friendly bookstores or those that actually liked your ass."
Mafia Land, described as 'frictionless'?
Err, sure.
Frictionless. Mostly due to whatever trying to create friction getting snapped off painfully and early.
Sonya couldn't quite keep the snort under her breath.
"…I don't know how to describe it." Klavdia defended herself waspishly.
"Obviously. But I've been back there a couple times, I think I got the idea." The difference between knowing the culture enough to feel safe walking the streets and being a tourist in another trying to guess if you were safe enough. "So I can safely leave you to your own devises for the next few weeks? A month or two? Is there anything you're concerned by that might require a sudden extraction?"
"Well, given I can't see the future… I think I'm good for a little while. I won't be able to keep doing this basic shit forever, they're really not very imaginative out here."
"That boss is part of the generation that got a solid idea of how the world worked all nailed down… then reality itself changed with our resurgence." Alek had been quiet too long, Sonya was getting suspicious her time was running out. "I'll check back in sometime near the end of the year, if your opinion doesn't change then we'll give it more time."
The girl was suspiciously quiet herself for a moment. "Nothing says I can't start your next leg of this diversion now."
Well… that was a good point. Kind of the very reason she wanted to have frequent checks on the sour teenager just in case she was more than ready for the next part. "I'll let the man know. Unlike your… current 'boss', I will actually care if you piss this one off."
"We'll see." Klavdia bitched almost automatically, then unceremoniously hung up on the older thief.
…fair enough.
Tossing the phone's receiver to the cradle, she went to go see if her dog got in over his-
Alek flapped his fluffy tail at her right outside the room she had been in, grinning in that doggy way of his that spoke of excessive pride in how well he thought he did combined with a healthy exertion. Sonya glanced down the silent hallway skeptically, but as no one came running shouting about 'who are you' and 'how did you get in here' or other legitimate complaints… as a matter of fact it was very silent for a establishment that had just been run over by a drive-by-dog.
However acrobatic they were getting him, and how much the brat could wiggle under all that fluff, she would be the first to admit he could be a difficult handful when he wanted to be.
Investigating further to the very next 'waiting' room that the hallway opened into, it really seemed as if the building had been entirely emptied. Of the hired grunts, the semi-legit business running during the daylight hours, and the very sketchy 'customers' stopping by for entirely too little time a doctor required to check over a patient.
…probably the owners were outside waiting on what passed as animal control or the police to come by. More likely, the actual owner of this business who would probably be very unamused to be called to solve an issue that wouldn't actually be here to be solved.
Sonya glanced down to her pet. "I think we've worn out our welcome."
Alek blankly stared up at her, utterly uncomprehending her point.
She double-checked her purse, went back into the room to pick up the paired knives they were here to steal so she didn't leave them behind absentmindedly only to snag her almost forgotten pen to take with too, and then returned to pick up her dog. "Alright, I guess you win. I honestly didn't think you were that annoying when you put your simple little mind to it. Steak for dinner it is, we're having seafood tomorrow so don't get all that excited."
He plastered one side of her face with doggy kisses, likely just for kicks rather than in thanks for her holding up her side of his training as her partner-in-crime. Tucking him under one arm, the one without her purse in it because her furry brat could and would investigate the contents… occasionally pulling bits out if she didn't keep him away from her 'doggy bag'.
Alek sometimes forgot they were training him to steal from others, not her. A problem she could live with, as just taking some precautions mainly voided the issue entirely.
They left via a window, because… well. It was how she got in here in the first place, and she didn't feel like trying to sneak her way through a crowd waiting outside probably half watching for a pale white and grey dappled dog with two different colored eyes just in case he tried to escape. Especially not if she would be the very obvious foreigner in said crowd, the dog's very bright and easily identifiable fur aside.
(Friday the 27th of November, 1970. Verde's home, De Mort Castle, Moneglia, Province of Genoa, Liguria, Italian Republic.)
"A passable attempt to record your observations… however there is a standard format to display such information." Hastily drafting out a rough approximation of such on a sheet of loose paper, Verde indicated the clearly blocked out sections in his somewhat sketchy handwriting. "It is little trouble to translate your neat observations into the dictated tables, merely inquire if you need further structure."
The young Rain Mingxia regretfully hunched her shoulders in unease, but she gamely focused on correcting her error with a bit of unseemly haste. Uncertain how to ease the young girl, he truly didn't mean any censure with the advice and her note taking was neat enough he suspected it to be only a minor demerit if she turned in her work as is, he chose instead to give her space than address her upset.
Neither Shamal nor Larion had reached a point they required further input on their own projects, whereas… Usov had not even begun.
There was Sonya's request to perhaps investigate, although Verde was not remotely sure how to even begin to approach the topic with her child. Elsewise, there was actually inquiring if Larion was working as studiously as his appearance suggested or investigating just why the older Mist in his home was specifically not doing the school projects they were all gathered to progress.
Pondering his choices, and the difficulty inherent in each, he reluctantly turned to Usov.
If only to not force or accidentally stumble into a fairly awkward conversation with what was for all intents and purposes his boss' and possible new girlfriend's son, and to not make both Rains he was overseeing the projects of uncomfortable at the same time as some sort of personal new best, he focused on the child he semi-recalled Peter had once instructed in the basics of science. "Usov, is there a logistical issue?"
He was part of the castle's security team, such as it was. It was possible.
Zinaida's son appeared to contemplate the question, appreciatively giving his words all due weight before turning his form on his couch to fully face the Lightning. "Not in so many words, no."
Verde glanced down at the supplies of his proposed project littering his end table, electrical components scavenged from odd corners of his labs and two science kits involving transistors with an old speaker from who knew where, then back to the child. "Are you uncertain of where to begin?"
"I already know where to end." Usov refuted lazily, a dismissive flick of a wrist having all necessary components fusing themselves together into a respectable self-contained listening device that seemed almost straight out of those film noir movies. "Am I now excused?"
He blinked blankly at the child.
With a very put upon sigh the Mist twisted his wrist again, the blank sheet paper before him suddenly bleeding ink in the uncannily perfect patterns to fill out his science fair project's premise and a child's approximate observations on building said spy device.
"That is… perhaps, not quite the point." Tried the Lightning awkwardly. "Did you learn anything?"
The oldest boy in his living room tilted his head to the side. "Well, likely not in the way you are inquiring. I've learned what degree of fine control it requires to manipulate live wires with my Flames, how little volts a battery holds, but beyond that…"
"That is in fact the point. How much fine control does it take to manipulate wires charged by Lightning Flames?"
"What's the point? We can't show civilians any Flame-related skills."
"The 'point' is that you have appreciatively expanded your pool of working knowledge, hopefully in a way that will be referenced throughout your lifetime and therefore help guide your choices in the future. Perhaps only for a few months until the ideas behind your project are developed further or perhaps to the very end of your lifetime before our understanding of the base mechanics of whichever school of thought fundamentally change with some new discovery."
Usov nodded along a few times, then held up a finger. "Point of contention, the very act of being 'graded' for our efforts and understanding of our projects then all of us getting ranked when the fair happens undermines your entire argument. It would actually behoove us to chose something we already know rather than a subject we find interesting to try researching into, if only to be sure to obtain the best grades possible."
"Equally so, that your project will be ranked against your fellow classmates and classmates around the country means that if you do not choose a subject or mechanic to explore with sufficient depth then you will not measure up against your contemporaries at all."
"Why would we want to? Attention is only good when you're deflecting it to someone else… and there's only one winner of a science fair. Three if you're unlucky enough to be entered into one with 'second and third place' consolation prizes."
Verde shook his head. "As far as I am aware, the base motivation Sonya had to create this home was to ensure Shamal had the freedom and safety to do anything and everything in his childhood without censor. You decided to include yourself, Usov. Meaning that safety also applies to your efforts. How many do you think utilize or reference their primary school projects in their early adult years? Aside local mentions in news the winner is only entitled to bragging rights and a one-time petty cash prize, transitional and indeed not much of a reward to those with enough maturity to comprehend the price of living. You currently have the safety of being a child to explore your preferences in scientific principles, how will you know you are not the next astronaut or Nobel Prize winning environmental engineer if you do not attempt to apply yourself? If after your attempt you deem yourself unfit to explore the sciences then suit yourself, but the world would be indeed poorer for your loss. All information, even erroneous information, merely advances our understanding of this world so one or another individual can advance us further beyond our current limits."
The child arranged his growth-lanky form over the end of his couch in a sprawl, weaving his fingers through the air and showcasing glittering strands of Mist Flames trailing behind each lethargic pass. "All that aside, interesting argument that it is… I am a Mist. I can do all of this with a wave of a hand, win awards without putting in the effort, while it's interesting… it's only interesting in the method of a passing fancy. It's for the best I do not wish to win the contest… for if I cared no one wins."
"In all actuality, I had expected your investment more." Drawled the scientist dryly, gesturing beyond his front door to the town outside. "Obviously you have the ability to force any ending you'd wish… so what are you good for without such? If you ever matched against a Mist of greater ability… what facets of reality can you master to fool the other into believing you are in fact stronger? What tricks of physics can you exploit that not many expect, what clever gadgets can you create out of the remains of common objects without brute forcing such through your Flames, can you in fact manipulate another without Mist Flames into doing exactly what you can with?"
Usov thought about it, a pause that allowed Verde to belatedly notice the other children scattered about his living room had been paying the debate some intent interest themselves. Including Sonya's godson, who was giving his project involving the local fishing market and the cycle of the taste of such influencing what the fishermen then focus upon procuring for the market to sell some skeptical scrutiny. Admittedly a research-heavy project with applicable local use, if not an intellectually challenging showcase of market values and the relationship of consumer demand on a specific market… or indeed one of a scope to be anything other than documentary in nature.
Unexpected advantage aside…
"If you deem only keeping to expected levels of education your optimal path forward, then do so. Neither your teachers nor I can ask more of you than you feel worth putting into your education, we could certainly try but until and unless you feel the effort will be validated you likely will not produce the quality of work we suspect you can in fact achieve. However, the only one you will in fact be shorting is yourself with such a lack. With your Flames your future employment is secured. Sonya likely does not care what grades you obtain, only the fact you pass the bar your age indicates you need to know to live in this world. If you do not risk censure for failure of application, you will not learn anything that may prove useful in future years. As a hobby, as a life's work, as something you just merely enjoy distracting yourself with occasionally violating the tenets of repeatedly. Any and all results are only worth what you feel it is, regardless of what others seem to expect."
"In a… semi-connected if not directly linked topic… what's the point?" Making a frustrated gesture he could not comprehend beyond to convey the level of emotion the child felt, the Mist slumped into the arm of the couch even further and kicked a heel against the bottom trim of the furniture. "Of all of this, not just this one project but school. It really just gets in the way, honestly. I have a job, being a town away actually impacts my work negatively."
Verde contemplated various responses, keenly aware of the impressionable ears around and that due to mostly appointing himself the adult in charge of their beginning scientific attempts might convey weight to his words than he wished them to have in a debate.
"In actuality… depending on what career you fall into in the future there is a percentage of standard schooling you will never utilize. Therefore, as you indeed feel keenly from all signs, some classes are in fact 'useless' to you. That is… not quite the point of standardized education. Indeed, if you chose a career involving high-concept theories or formulas… in future educational facilities you will in fact learn you have been taught 'wrongly' for key subjects. The 'point' of standardized education is to establish a base level of understanding in all, and to introduce young minds to a wide array of subjects to see if you have a 'knack' for one particular discipline above another."
Usov cocked an eyebrow. "Well. That must have been infuriating for you."
"Indeed, although I feel I must point out the subject is your satisfaction with your education rather than mine." Adjusting his glasses, and feeling a little like he had critically failed to convey some part of his words adequately enough, Verde appropriated the lone sitting chair that Adrik had dragged home some forgotten date ago. "Theoretically speaking. If you dropped out of education right of this moment… you would indeed have more time to dedicate to your work. It is important work, we can all agree upon that base level… however. Say… you become very interested in some science in the future. Which one is rather unimportant, although for the sake of the argument you discover you greatly enjoy… chemistry. Creating your own explosives."
The entirely too intent amount of interest the claim earned him from the younger generation made him slightly uncomfortable. They were already excessively pyrotechnic by nature… perhaps explosive materials was not the best subject to involve in this hypothetical situation.
"…ahem. Explosives. Say you are about twenty at the time of this self-discovery. You are… ten now? Nine?"
"Eleven." Confirmed the Mist lightly, seemingly entertained by Verde's discomfort if the slowly growing smirk was any evidence.
"That is six to seven years of intermittently missing chemistry lessons… when you might've discovered the knack or interest earlier and have halfway completed your further education in chemistry beyond a layperson's start. Which is, may I point out, the very definition of having wasted your time. Further if, God forbid, anything happened to Sonya… you would lack the educational standard to obtain a 'legal civilian' job in the upheaval of your life in her lack. Instead you would be forced to immediately sell your services to another group that might not allow you the same quality of life she does, if only to keep a roof over your head and food on your table while you acquire the certificates that would free you from a very narrow and specific career path."
"Except, as a Mist, I can make myself a certificate of education and have it inserted in any respectable establishment later on if I need to."
"Indeed? Then you would of course be confident in immediately starting a career operating heavily on mathematics? Can you calculate a tax rate on an income for an ongoing business? Can you balance the accounting books to enable an overhead for expansion or unanticipated demand beyond normal operating costs?" The utterly blank look on Usov's face rather neatly proved his point. "A different career path perhaps? How about a trade instead? Carpentry? Do you know how to whittle or carve a block of wood into a trinket to sell? How much your time should cost, for working on raising a new building? Plumbing? Would you understand the fluid dynamics modern plumbing relies upon to work? Why one variant of pipes are in fact superior to another depending on expected use? Well… you wouldn't be able to teach without knowing what in fact is taught… Cooking? Although… you will need to know how to upscale the single or four serving recipes into something that could feed twenty or more people without the resulting meal being too bland or too seasoned for general consumption."
"So… kind of pointless but kind of important?"
"Indeed."
Usov scowled irritably into the middle distance. "Terrific."
Verde had the opposite issue as a child, in that nothing seemed to go enough in depth for him. He could at least empathize with the Mist's frustrations on how seemingly shallow it all appeared, even if it was not. "Take heart, you are some distance into the required level of education you need. In fact… you can inquire of self-study if you wish. Homeschooling. I can oversee such myself if you feel as if attending education in another town is not in fact to your best interest… if you can convince your parents of the same."
"…really?"
"You have an assured intended career path already, which is indeed impacted via your required life experience of school necessitating your attendance some distance away. If you can successfully argue your way into independent study, I can ensure you keep apace with your fellow contemporaries easily enough. The important attempt, in at least giving the situation a try to flesh out your life experiences, has been covered. Some are just not suited for 'education aimed for the broadest number possible' and perform better when their instructors can focus entirely upon their needs. I was the same." He considered his own words for a moment, not particularly feeling as if there was any further important points to make an issue of… aside one. "Know this, I will be instructing you to the very limits of my knowledge if you so chose this path. I dislike the 'wrong but generally correct' assumptions of certain topics taught to children to ease them into the basic concepts. Such might in fact be more difficult than the lessons you would otherwise obtain."
From the grimace on Larion's face, the boy Rain no longer felt envious over the offer given to Usov. Shamal still looked entirely too contemplative to understand his general thoughts on the subject, and as for Mingxia… while listening intently she did not seem to wish for the same opportunity. Likely due to her first form of schooling being done as 'self' study already and apparently preferring being part of a class of students.
"You might not just be 'instructing' me, Anna has a couple gaps in her education she intends to fix eventually."
"I am intimately familiar with the lessons and general duties of a tutor, if not in the act of being the tutor instead of the tutee. I make no promises to be adept in such."
The smirk that then scrawled across Usov's face made Verde wonder if he had misstepped somehow. "Interesting."