Author's Note : When I write in a fandom too long, I start getting opinions. Which is part and parcel of developing headcannons, sure. But they get harder to ignore the further I get in any particular one.

I've noticed a semi-confusing trend in KHR! Fanfiction, where one or more of the Arcobaleno are described as 'too Mafia' or 'too ridged' in some instances. Reborn gets this treatment a whole lot, more than the others but I distinctly recall a label along the same lines being slapped on Verde at least once, and I'm pretty sure Lal Mirch got this treatment recently somewhere given the sheer hatred I got for her when I had written nothing to explain that hostile outpouring. That they're too inflexible or too criminal to do well outside their little niches, or that they'd spectacularly screw something up just because it's not Mafia in nature despite all the warning signs in the way.

…which, I really don't understand. Yes, they're as old as dirt depending on how you want to calculate out when they got Cursed. Which does come with the usual 'I'm too old to relearn _' issue you could play with up to a point. Yes, they're old hands at Mafia Life and have really towering reputations by the canonical start of the story so being well accustomed to one way of life would be understandable.

They are very old-school; they probably approach everything with that mindset initially because that's what they deal with regularly. But.

These people survived being instantly handicapped at the height of their careers. Almost totally. With their reputations and the lifestyle in question, suddenly being turned into toddlers could not have gone smoothly. Whatever their original affiliations and skill sets, about most if not all their previous skill had to be relearned while they're less than two feet tall and with basically a knee-high view of the world. Then keep that going for all the new comers, the bold as brass idiots that look at them and think 'children', to get from then to canon's start where they still have those reputations.

These are some adaptable motherfuckers. Being too set in their ways would've gotten them murdered to a man (or lady) when they were suddenly not nearly as imposing physically or struggling to even lift a handgun, or a rifle. Fon's strength would not have been enough to defend anyone much less himself as an instant toddler, while Reborn still has Leon (or maybe not) there's the recoil to calculate in, which also applies to Lal Mirch and Colonello both. Skull's bike would be too large for him to even operate much less ride, Verde's tools would be out of reach and not fit for a child's hand no matter what he would have on him.

Every enemy they ever had would've tried to take them out right after being Cursed. And yet, nothing stuck hard enough to actually kill one until after Byakuran basically poisoned them all to death instead of facing them head on.

Not even Luce, who was (somehow) called out for basically setting up the rest of the group. Or at least aiding Checkerface in doing it.

I have no point with this whatsoever, aside maybe an expression of confusion.

(Also really sorry how long this took me to write out, but the whole incident did not want to be worked on until now. I wrote more than half the chapter in less than six hours. I have no idea how my muse works either.)

Russian Roulette : Second Chamber

Chapter 64

(Wednesday the 3rd of November, 1971. De Mort Castle, Moneglia, Province of Genoa, Liguria, Italian Republic.)

Sonya's own fucking home was invaded by elements she did not invite before sunrise, and if the bitch didn't have a damn good reason-

"I need you to abduct Nuan from her overly guarded ivory tower." Daniella of Vongola announced, bluntly and to the point the very second the Storm-Cloud bothered to show up and glower at her. "For a night, whichever salt encrusted cesspit has a good variety of Flames within it. Then just let nature take it's own damn course and drag the results back with you."

The thief blinked once, slowly. "With or without her uncle's permission."

"While better to ask forgiveness than permission… in this case, we already have it." Shot back the elderly Sky woman shortly, the bare beginnings of a sneer on her lips.

Flatly ignoring the restlessness that announcement incurred in her own damn array of Guardians, a pruned short list of four other people with only two with her physically instead of the full set, she tossed her greying hair held up in a shockingly sensible simple ponytail over the back of the couch she was seated upon.

"Her uncle's hands are tied, politically. We need a free agent to raise some hell for a damn good cause and dump out the damn pot. It's been nearly a year, she needs a Guardian prospect or just to meet someone halfway compatible for her own information. There's limited drawbacks to using you, rather than more if we have to branch out right now."

…damn good reason supplied, Sonya sighed heavily and blearily shuffled into her own front parlor room just to be 'convinced'. "Alright, sell this to me."

"Zhōng agreed." Daniella started, flicking a dismissive hand in her Sun Guardian's face to keep him quiet. With a roll of his eyes the elderly healer instead fixed the younger woman a cup of coffee to hand over, and Revelli crooked a regretful if resigned and tired smirk for her when she took it. "This will not impact your standing with your Triad connections."

"Yeah, except all the connections I don't already have."

All physical signs arranged to practically scream she did so reluctantly, the Eighth Vongola Sky nodded slowly. Falsely. "Except for those."

So, assisted political suicide in Triad territory… yay.

Then again, of course a grandmother to three young Italian Skies would rather a pair of Russian Clouds network her own country and possibly settle in it than some foreign affair. It was basically what the Triads attempted to do with her via Ballsy Toddler Boy and his plight, both to nail her down and to slap her with a reputation of avarice and fickle loyalties to cut her off from reasonable help without lifting a finger. No reason for the old woman to not help that along so all of the thief's attentions would be squarely rooted to the country her godson needed to be raised in.

If Fon's Mountain Master was resorting to asking Nuan to ask Daniella to ask Sonya for help…

…likely, pressure to chain down his niece to unfit elements from the Wo-group Triads. Those that had a better reputation with his men and had to be treated with all due courtesy and then some, and while yes the Wo Hop Triads were not small fish in that pond they also weren't the top of that dog pile. The need for a free agent that obviously wasn't his to command sold that detail out neatly.

Zhōng was at least attempting to help out his niece any possible way he could, back channels and all even if it went against the political landscape he had to deal with. Almost a full year to try on his own before defaulting to asking for help. A good uncle, and a practical politician. Cute.

Daniella obviously had her own reasons for helping shit along aside whatever fondness she had for a headstrong young Chinese Sky girl she was asked to guide. At this level of political shit-slinging, that was pretty obvious. She didn't say so outright, no one at her age would… but Lisa was also an old political warhorse that raised her and her siblings.

The daughter of the Zolotov Clan's own Sovintnik was no stranger to inter-syndicate politics and how twistedly entrapped it all was, even when those went international. Free-agents like her were not allowed to remain undeclared through any means available. Pyotr's grandchildren were raised to also deal with such conflicts if they ended up on the wrong end of it, regardless of if they realized it. It made sense for how Lisa knew what she knew to help them even now, in a way that wasn't… entirely the whole story.

The whole family knew that just as much as their foster mother did, but until Lisa actually decided to say something that'd be left up to her to reveal… if she ever did. It hadn't been necessary to know Lisa had once been an international thief to help Sonya become one, it came out eventually. Same with this, it'd come out when their foster mother felt ready to talk about it and it wouldn't affect whatever manipulations she still had going on.

She tapped the pads of her fingertips against the hot mug in her hands, sipping lightly at the equally as boiling hot black coffee to buy a few more seconds to think. Not nearly as gauche to sling out what benefits Daniella had to bring this problem all the way up the country to dump in her lap back at the old woman, the thief sighed out heavily again instead.

There was no point in pointing out all the little manipulations going on behind the 'straightforward' request brought to her literal doorstep, it wouldn't really change much about the situation at hand.

Just stealing Nuan out of where she should've been had to be done 'publicly', to prevent a full-out manhunt for them in a territory Sonya didn't exactly know well. She could maybe swing it that Fon would come along, as more the 'harried bodyguard' the Princess should always have with her rather than someone 'in' on the plan.

It'd mitigate a lot of the risks she'd be taking. Nabbing Skies with no Guardians would be seen full out as a hostile action no matter what relationship there was to explain it all, Sonya doing the nabbing from a syndicate she was on good terms with would be weird. She only stole people with permission for fuck's sake, and it kind of rankled to let others assume she also did it without.

A lot of the Wo Hop To Traid's main headquarters staff knew perfectly well Nuan was safe from Sonya. They just weren't compatible, not nearly as well as she was to Tyr which also wasn't just right either.

There'd be suspicions and, depending on a whole lot of personal factors that couldn't be adjusted beforehand, it was possible the idea it was a sanctioned nabbing would form and linger in the background. It didn't exactly make the thief's hackles ease, too chancy for her in the least, but it was possible.

Of course, that'd never be the 'official story', and that left a sour taste in Sonya's mouth.

Then again, the sheer amount of effort already spent to get Daniella into her fucking castle on this aim?

Nuan had been adrift and restless with the World's Strongest Storm and the other half of the World's Strongest Cloud pair on her side. A year later without that intimidating guard, no even possibly compatible Guardians to speak of?

There was a need, and what was Sonya here for if not to fill a need?

Sighing for a third time, she let the back of her head hit the ornately carved armchair she'd been 'arranged' to have with her back to the windows.

Smirking just as tiredly as her Sun Guardian, Daniella settled firmly back into the comfortable couch she and her Sun were seated on silently. The woman in the back corner of the room was obviously the Rain Guardian, she fidgeted way too damn much to be a Cloud or Storm and those were male. Didn't fidget enough to be the Lightning, that guy was pointedly planted in the foyer of the castle while his Sky was here on a 'social' call.

At ass'o'clock, just before the sun finished rising, half a country away from where Daniella retired.

"I hate fucking all of your asses." Announced the thief flatly, which wasn't a 'no' and obviously the old Sky knew that was a concession to be used as an allowance just as much as she did. "China has its own New Year's celebration, did you know that?"

The smirk on the elderly Vongola's face curled a bit more energetically all of a sudden, more amused with a touch of something wicked than just as tired as the rest of them. "I didn't. Are there any expectations for gifts during a Chinese's New Year? From an old busy body to a young debutante?"

"A red envelope, stuffed with money, not specifically only a New Year's tradition. Given from elders to the children, a show of granting them good wishes for health and luck for the coming year. About fifty euros for the unmarried children of an acquaintance, and it should be 'new' money bills." Basically, drinking money. "I suppose I can carry it personally for you. I'm about due for my one obligated visit to China per year again."

It'd let Zhōng know when she'd be by, admittedly a rough time frame, without saying so in so many words. She'd pointedly and heavily hint to Fon to be 'home' at that time, or she'd just drag him along with her. Mingxia would pout, but the girl was already helping her in another aim so perhaps there wouldn't be too many hard feelings about stealing her brother from their festivities for a few days.

"…plausible deniability." Revelli muttered at his Sky before the old woman attempted to needle her for possibly more, in a tone that probably wouldn't have carried as far if they were in the hallway with all the bookcases. It carried more than enough in a sedately appointed sitting room for Sonya to hear it, but she pretended momentary deafness at the three sharp looks shot at her.

"Is that enough?" Daniella instead defaulted to ask, which could be applied to three different obvious questions and a whole lot of unasked ones.

"It is their festival celebration. Traditions." She shrugged any other question off like a good politician's granddaughter pretending ignorance to illicit arrangements going on she was having a heavy hand in. "The envelope needs to be red, it'd be too suspicious otherwise. The amount is your choice but avoid any denomination in fours. Eight is better. Try to avoid coins."

With a scoff, the elderly woman refreshed her own cup of Cesare's coffee brusquely. "I'm the dear headstrong girl's instructor now, best I obtain a supply of the official envelopes instead of leaving the details to chance. I'll have it ready as soon as possible."

"I'd like some if you can find them." She should be giving Yaozu and Mingxia their own envelopes, she didn't last year. Then again, she had been rather busy that time last year and would be again. She'd leave it on their beds…

She had helped Mingxia get the red construction paper to make her own envelopes while she had been in-country, so at least she half-assedly sort of helped.

And, of course, they both were too 'polite' to put that kind of cultural expectation on her when she really should've been respecting it.

Idiots.

All of them.

There were multiple cultures represented under this damn roof, and there was no reason not to respect that. She was lazy, yes, but she tried not to be rude to those sheltering under her reputation who could pull their own weight.

Daniella wasn't a heavy-handed woman, she'd figured out quickly there were twelve different designs and multiple ways for those designs to be presented depending on the giver and the one it was intended for. That'd get her curious about which one was right for her this year, and probably lure her into acquiring multiples of various different designs if all 'employer or elder friend of the family to young adult/child of friends' types. If she'd provide Sonya with a decent selection and a properly filled red envelope for Nuan, then the thief wouldn't have a reason to avoid doing this.

It was a really pathetic low bar to judge the worth of the older woman's intentions. It was still something for a Vongola-centric possible asset to prove themselves as worth the headache.

Instead of the expected obvious, Sonya sipped her coffee from the copper-and-white-porcelain mug from her set of 'impressive' mugs. Waiting.

"Fiorella, the dear girl, told me you have your own little student these days." Daniella didn't beat around the bush but went straight for the heart of the issue of Sonya basically committing political suicide in China for her, what to pay her back with. "No matter what retirement and idle grandmotherhood I have, I'm still Vongola. Your little Rain will find her way eased in certain corners."

"I'm not going to give Lal undue expectations."

"You shouldn't. No point in pretending I still have the influence and reputation I once did. I will do everything but step on my own son's toes."

"She wants a mercenary bent." Sonya admitted quietly. "To find her fellows in arms, and give them their unit of like minded fellows they should've had if Omertà had not interfered. They will be held to expectations since to do otherwise will kill them all, but they will have choice. The structure, to reach beyond the betrayal of their former outfits."

"Practical." Deemed the Sky simply and bluntly. "There will be the obvious suspicions, but I can think of several things a mercenary band of Flame users could assist with. Let me know when she's available."

Sonya gave the old bitch a fake as all hell smile. "Get the fuck out of my home."

She flatly ignored the security-related shuffle that had to happen first, giving an annoyed snort instead of a return farewell when Daniella offered it, and glowered at the wall of her own castle for a few long moments.

"…Dama?"

…and of course, the stupid butler-boy wouldn't have forgotten to call her that. "Arcaro. I would've preferred a bit more of a warning that she was going to be here."

"I got the call fifteen minutes before she aimed to leave the Iron Fort." Offered the teenager immediately, almost too quickly but the kid was still awkward and unsure of himself here. "That Ottavia of Vongola was on her way, via Mist-related transportation, and what time they were to knock."

Obviously. If Daniella and Zhōng wanted this done 'unofficially' then the elderly Sky couldn't just take an official trip up here half the damn country away from her usual place without giving some word to what aim she was on. It would've stood out and might've gotten back to China even though there was arguably only one Triad-related agent that had business in the country.

Keeping things short and bittersweet fed that aim, much to her own disgust.

Her butler immediately going to wake her up and tell her she had an impending meeting about to go down in her own fucking parlor… well. At least she had time to take a shower first. "Fine. I withdraw my objection."

Although he tried to be stealthy about it, the thief still noted he blew out a long breath of relief.

"I'll spend the rest of the morning here so you might as well leave the coffee tray until my dog decides he wants to stretch his legs," she informed him instead of point that out, "any news on Bjǫrn and Andy-what's-his-face?"

"Andre Roux, Dama. Master Bjǫrn informed me last night that the purchase went through, and one of my cousins is to arrive later today with the houseboat. They'll be renting a room locally to stay and teach Mister Roux how to sail, the service included in the price of purchase. They should be here within the next few days… or when 'island Personnel gets over panicking at being run over via Cloud' as he put it."

Sonya sighed yet again. "You might need to handle that. Mingxia has the paperwork for the dockside and registration for the idiot to live on his boat here legally, but she'll need some help in where it all has to go."

"I'll speak with Miss Sōng after school." Decided Palaemon after a silent moment of thought, keeping his hands firmly behind his back but otherwise standing there casually enough to not annoy her. "Would either you or he mind if I tagged along with on his lessons?"

"I don't care. He'll have his own opinions." It earned her an absent nod, and she took three seconds to eyeball the teenager suspiciously yet again.

It wasn't obvious, but now and again she had the sinking feeling someone told Palaemon Arcaro how to 'not piss the Cloud off' while he was off at butler school. Which… shockingly wasn't pissing her off unlike all the other times she ran face-first into the lingering after-effects of some other Cloud's reputation.

Nothing objectionable was apparent yet, so she couldn't even demand to know who told him what that wasn't remotely correct.

Which raised the odds that a Cloud told him what he should or should not do while in service to another Cloud.

Don Visconti, or one of his Famiglia. Probably. Maybe. They were the only Italian Clouds she had any remote connection to, or even a vaguely non-hostile acknowledgement of.

That inability to tell or deal with it kind of irked her, but not really enough to confront him about it. If there was someone in-country that could pass along those tidbits she didn't even know enough to warn another of… then great. Fantastic.

…sarcasm fully intended.

She should talk to them, or at least get Don Visconti's number and get on with learning what everyone else expected from something like her. She didn't know what limits there were between two fully grown Clouds trying to hold a conversation, even if she knew any immature Cloud still struggling to establish themselves was a pain in the ass. Indecision over even just how to approach an older Cloud by anything other than by accident left her with just the vague hope Don Visconti would reach out to her instead.

Adelardo of Cavallone probably told other Clouds she had no information on Flame users older than her. Possibly. Hopefully her lack in reaching out to those she should talk to wasn't being regarded as her being insolent or rude. Maybe.

Belatedly, Sonya lifted a hand from her mug of still black coffee to flick her fingers in her butler's direction. Releasing the poor kid to do whatever else butlers did instead of stand there while she watched him guardedly yet again.

…if she still couldn't figure out her own shit by the time she had to go do Daniella's favor, whether or not the old bitch passed the low bar of being at least willing to do her damn research, she'd have her shiny new butler call around for her.

So there. Problem solved.

(Saturday the 6th of November, 1971. The Arcobaleno Manse, far outside if Farindola, Province of Pescara, Abruzzo, Italian Republic.)

Luce topped off the mug in her hands with the pot Lal Mirch left to brew before she left the manse, groggily following the Rain's path to where everyone else had decided to wait. Putting it off would do nothing, best to get it over with as soon as it could be.

The colored lights were… well, quaint. Usefully so, for now, while they were still arguably unknown as a group. Clicking her light off, which coincidentally coincided with Viper's dark blue one suddenly turning off without anyone touching it, the Donna looked out at the bare beginning of the Arcobaleno candidates that thought about showing up early.

Basically everyone but Fon.

Skull was in full uniform again, features carefully painted over with white and purple makeup and still astride one of his ever-present motorcycles. While unable to see if Sonya had her armor on or not, the casual clothing the thief tended to favor was still loose enough to enable growing crystal and metal plates that might spontaneously occur. Verde had yet another white lab coat, with a few odd burn marks all down the back, over a button-down and a pair of sensible slacks.

There was still a fluffy, mostly-white dog panting in the early morning pre-dawn light present too. Alek sat in the bed of the truck, perfectly happy to have a significantly boosted height to see what there was to see while his mistress fondled his ears.

Reborn was as always dressed in his customary suit, and very pointedly not glancing in the new internationally wanted thief's direction. The grin on his face was not friendly, and his laughter had more than a bit of malice in it.

Lal did not approve of the humor the hitman had found at her Mafia Home Tutor's expense, but she smartly kept to pointing out how 'weird' it was they all decided to protest the exact same way to the Cloud siblings.

Viper was watering the garden. Hose in hand, cloaked still from nose tip to boot tip, absently spraying down all the shrubbery and young plants that had been newly planted around the manse.

Luce leaned against the porch railing with her coffee cradled in both hands, turning to the response the Clouds had to the Rain's rightfully suspicious claim.

"There's only so many ways to 'protest' or 'resignedly comply'." Skull informed Lal Mirch with a shrug. "Not without doing something really stupid, either shooting ourselves or another's foot in the process."

"…Lal kind of has a point, though." Sonya countered absently, which only just managed to kill Reborn's mood enough to silence the awful laughter. "We didn't discuss anything, at all. We all just ended up 'protesting' the same way at the exact same time. Something to watch for, I guess… even if splitting up is generally the first move in 'non-compliance'."

Verde itched at his scruffy jawline, peering backwards at the trio. "Counterpoint, we did not 'discuss' remaining in the drive for the 'start' of this occasion rather than inside. Where, presumably, it is both warmer and more comfortable to await a nebulous beginning."

The older sibling Cloud hitched a shoulder. "I sure as fuck am not going in there before I have to."

"…point."

"I don't particularly care where you all are." Checker Face grandly announced just behind Luce, making her jump in surprise and spill a bit of coffee out of her mug. Apparently knowing it would happen didn't help when she was this tired. "Just that you are… wait."

Very obviously making a headcount of everyone there, the Mist made an equal show of contemplating the number of fingers suddenly all on one hand that could tick off seven individuals. Folding the eight fingered hand into his palm with a pout, Checker Face snapped the other hand and Fon suddenly slammed into the ground on his knees a few meters away from everyone.

"There. Now, I don't particularly care where you all wait, just that you are."

The disgruntled Storm assassin picked himself up off the dirt irritably, absently brushing a hand down his traditional dress to knock off some of the dirt and tree litter that stuck to him.

Skull pointedly didn't respond, tapping his fingers against his elbow where his crossed arms left them.

Sonya petted her dog more.

Verde adjusted his glasses, Lal shifted to not give the assassin her back, Reborn shifted backwards so he could easily see everyone still, and Viper kept on watering the garden.

Luce stuck a few fingers into her mouth, soothing the slight burning sensation and to get the spilled coffee off her as the inevitable took place.

Checker Face rolled his eyes at all of them. "Yes, yes. We need to talk. Well… some of you need to listen more, but sure. But! To start with. I have a little… competition for you all to do. I would just normally shove you all on to your first mission now, but the details of that have changed somewhat unexpectedly and so I no longer know for sure what the situation is…"

The half-sneer that crossed Reborn's features was somewhat resigned to go with a measure of distaste at the admission. Viper pointedly turned off the hose at the admission that whatever they had been gathered to do for the Ancient Mist was at least going to be done with all due information required, rather than half-assed regardless if there was enough or not.

Fon just stood there, no expression showing to judge anything from.

Skull shared a glance with Sonya, but the older Cloud rolled his eyes while the younger graduated to ruffling her dog's neck instead. Lal hunched her shoulders, also watching the limited and barely there reactions the others had to the information.

Verde, of course, recorded down that admission to log away in his field notebook.

"Just think of it as a team-building exercise!" Checker Face trilled happily regardless of the reactions he wasn't getting. "First one back… well. I suppose you can choose the reward. We'll discuss it once you're home again!"

"…wait-" Sonya didn't even get to finish her likely needed interjection, Luce's vision just suddenly went dark on her and a more than terrifying feeling of free-fall overcame her senses just before she got her sight back.

Her coffee cup was ripped out of her hands as wind whipped around her to tear at her clothes and hair, and the sheer lack of any support made Luce panic-flail in terror.

Knowing it was coming and being in the moment… fuck this shit. Fuck all this shit!

Viper's cloak shot out of the hazy morning light like a ribbon of fluid darkness, wrapping itself around Luce's pregnant form and suddenly she wasn't free-falling out of the sky anymore. The Mist Flames only just barely retreated from her to show that they were back in front of the Arcobalenos manse, Viper firmly planted before the Sky but also between the Ancient Mist and her.

"What. Was the point. Of that stupidity."

"The others have issues to defang between them." Checker Face announced peacefully, then made an over-the-top gesture to the two of them. "Congratulations! You win! Your reward is handling two Flame users' familiars for them until they too come back! Don't bother trying to leave, you can't until the last one arrives."

"What." Viper viciously demanded in the split-second before the other just simply disappeared without answering. "What the hell?"

A low growl answered the remaining Mist, who froze without turning around even if Luce's coffee cup finally smashed to pieces on the porch roof.

Alek had been left behind.

Alek was unhappy.

The massive dog continued to growl at them both with ears laid back as if either Viper or Luce had anything to do with how Sonya disappeared. The Sky immediately turned, to where Reborn had been standing, and sure enough there in the tiny patch of scraggly grass was a young chameleon clinging to a dead stick.

A shapeshifting chameleon.

Leon also had been left behind.

Leon was also unhappy.

Luce did not have the arm-strength to corral a dog used to the strength of a Cloud's arm, and only Viper would be able to deal with a half-Mist Flame lizard that likely wanted to seek out her master above every other concern right now. When sitting tight would solve that issue, it wasn't like either animal knew that or they had any way to inform them their respective partners were coming back here. For them if not for any other reason.

"Fuck." She spoke for the both of them, or more like all four.

Then, of course, Viper suddenly disappeared on Luce without a warning or word given. Not the Mist ducking out of any perceived responsibility, they were removed to have a one-on-one talk with Checker Face about the necessity, or more likely the impossibility of refusal, of what he needed done.

"Fuck." She stated again tiredly even if she was alone now and there was no image needed to present to the others.

Checker Face needed to talk to a couple of them one-on-one. Yes. Didn't mean Luce appreciated being left behind with a massively upset pair of very destructive animals. She plastered a hand over her face and cradled her protruding belly, just begging that her Flames might just work enough to calm them both down when she knew full well it wouldn't.

They were exposed to other Flames, one of which was stronger than her own. She didn't have the type they found comforting, and Harmony would just make them both confused to go with angry and intent on finding their rightful partners.

"I don't suppose either of you will be willing to take yourselves inside, would you?"

Leon turned into a suspiciously green bird and fell off her perch, flapping her wings as she righted herself a few times to get used to the method of flight to take off. Only to squeak in offense as Checker Face prevented the Sun's familiar from leaving the area and nearly smacking Luce in the face with her entire feathery form.

The Sky caught the changeling in the hand near her face, which didn't help as the bird-formed Leon took off immediately to try again and find her missing Sun. Alek charged after her, leaping out of the truck bed in a surge of mostly white fur to escape and find his Cloud.

Both animals ended up again very nearly ramming into Luce suddenly before they could even escape the clearing the manse was set in with another squeak and bark of protest. The tethering teleportation was apparently equally as objectionable to them as she found it.

Sonya had not yet trained her dog in the three-click, the 'obey this person if I am not present' order that would enable Luce and the others to corral her pet for her. This situation was the one that put that into the thief's head as a possible necessity. Leon was equally as trainable, but would never be trained to obey an order that would take her loyalty from her suspicious Mafioso.

Luce went to go prop open the front door so Alek would not attempt to chew through it if he ended up inside as she knew he would at least two or three times. She had a half-formed baby sitting on her bladder, it couldn't be helped.

Solid wood or not, she didn't remotely need to deal with the team up between a massively unhappy Leon and equally as sulky Alek needed for tunneling through the front door.

Viper would corral the both of them when the Mist returned, until then she would stand on the porch for when Checker Face returned both animals to her side. And not put the idea of working together in the minds of Alek and Leon, that nightmare of property destruction could wait a small bit.

(ooo000ooo)

(Saturday the 6th of November, 1971 continued. Saint Petersburg, Russian Soviet Federative Socialist Republic.)

Losing any sense of what was up or down was not unique to Fon, neither was a momentary blindness, but being dropped from a height he had not chosen to scale himself was. He had a moment to appreciate the sight of a large population center rapidly enlarging as his form came closer to the ground, then Skull seized him by the arm.

The stuntman did not even once glance in his direction, it seemed as if he was judging something as he twisted in the harsh winds ripping past their falling forms. Narrow purple eyes affixed on the ground, it still took Fon by surprise when the man suddenly released him and sharply kicked him in the stomach with both boots.

Knocked off-course, the martial artist ended up more skittering along rather than rolling on the rooftop of some building in bewilderment. Instead of smashing into the unforgiving ground directly.

Fon had only the time to blink once in sheer confusion as he slid to a stop. The horrible ringing crack of multiple bones breaking all at once told him what fate his erstwhile companion had come to.

…instead of using the assassin as a method to save himself, Skull instead had chosen to save Fon.

Sonya would be… he would need to tell her of her brother's fate cautiously but before anyone else could as if his return to the damned manse alone would not inform her of Skull's death. That was not going to be pleasant in any shape of the word, it was obvious to anyone that cared to look that she loved her elder brother deeply and he loved her back just as much.

If she blamed him, he would accept that.

Grimacing, he peeled himself off the vaguely European city building roof to limp back along the building. He didn't really wish to see Skull's remains, it seemed horribly disrespectful to the man and the sister both, but just in case by some miracle the stuntman was not yet dead…

…that was not survivable.

Skull had impacted hard enough to put a large crack into the concrete he landed on. He attempted to protect his head the best he could, curling both arms over it, but that left his chest unprotected and as both legs appeared quite broken in multiple places there was no chance his ribcage had managed to protect the more delicate internal organs it guarded. If he wished to ignore the obvious damage from bodily impacting the ground at high speeds, the blood pooling into that crack was an alarming amount already and still growing larger.

Fon sighed tiredly, closing his eyes and muttering a Buddhist prayer under his breath. He didn't believe, but there was no reason not to. Skull didn't believe either, but just in case.

He might regret the sacrifice, but he would not waste it. The other man's little sister might be fully grown, but it would be of no consequence to add her to the very short list of family to guard he had left.

It was the least he could do.

"…FUCK, that hurt." Simple enough Italian he could understand without aid, and in a familiar voice he had thought silenced forever.

"Skull?" Fon leaned over the edge of the roof again, disbelieving his own eyes as the stuntman raggedly and somewhat… gruesomely, dragged himself out of his own blood splattered impact site.

The cracks and pops as his physical form straightened itself out… Skull threw one arm out in front of him to straighten it himself with momentum, he grasped at and hauled himself right using whatever of the detritus found in an alleyway he could grip on to.

Then, as if he had not compounded the velocity he had been under by preventing Fon's own horrific impact with the ground only to hit while likely under a higher velocity than intended… the man straightened up without any physical sign of distress or any of the numerous broken or shattered bones he must have.

Skull put both hands on the back of his hips, leaning backwards and eliciting more disturbing cracks from his spine as a deformity in his ribcage suddenly sank back into his chest. "Ow… I'm going to be feeling that until clear next week."

Russian, at least he could be more certain he understood the words right.

"Not that I wish to… immediately question you, I am grateful for the assistance Skull… but… what?"

A purple eye peered up at him with exhausted but good humor. "Boo. I'm undead."

Нежить. Dead but still animated.

"You, are who your sister learned from to ignore bullet holes." Fon concluded grimly, recalling several occasions Sonya was physically harmed but queerly unconcerned by it.

Skull turned, actually more fell in that direction and jerked to a halt, giving him a sweeping bow in European fashion and ignoring the blood leaking from his black leather jumpsuit to dot the ground giving away the lie his unmarked appearance gave. "Skull, the Immortal Stuntman, at your service."

There was a wealth of feelings Fon struggled with for a moment. Skull limping still put a halt to most of it, and the assassin spent the inadequate few seconds it took for the other man to join him on a rooftop sorting out his concerns to what was immediately required and what could wait.

When he did, it was more clearly apparent Skull's makeup and form-fitting bodysuit had more than just the apparent reason to be worn. The stuntman was not moving nearly as fluidly as he usually did, still jerky and obviously in a great amount of pain pointedly reminded Fon that the ability to ignore physical damage did not come with the ability to not feel the pain they caused.

The spectacular bruising on one of Skull's hands was another… to go with the blood still dripping down his heavy leather boots to leave bright red smears where he staggered along. His suit and makeup hid any other sign he was not whole, ragged though everything now was with his unwilling meeting with the paved ground. Some holes, made when his bones thrust themselves out of his form and tore through leather, the blood on his mouth and what was still dripping from a slightly crooked nose that signified some internal damages had been incurred…

Likely, the Cloud's immortality took power to do. The Power of THE Strongest Cloud of the Era. Power that Skull burned immediately and without much thought, to safeguard Fon's more mortal body for him to his detriment.

He did appreciate the sacrifice. He did. He also kind of wished to murder the man himself, with his own hands, for the few moments of burdened guilt he suffered at the thought Skull had died to save him. It had not been true.

Someone could have warned him. He knew both siblings. Why did he not know beforehand?

They were all so, so lucky the Cloud was a complete pacifist. Sonya's antics were disturbing enough, for all her more 'overt' actions as an undead Cloud was more Storm-centric enough to be copied.

Mingxia could not be taught the ability to shrug off massive amounts of physical pain. The thief warned him of such, but he still regretted that.

Whatever issues Fon had with the 'undead' siblings needed to wait for a better time. He took a deep breath, shoving his complex feelings about the reveal and the belated sour realizations away for another time, and blew out his misgivings. "We need to know where we are. Did you-"

"We're in St. Petersburg, I think. Russia at least. There's… scraps of old newspapers down there." Skull informed him tiredly. "And I'm about to pass out. Get us to Moscow, if you could. I'll get us back from there."

Fon blinked as the man did just that. Dropping to the rooftop in a boneless heap that likely would have pained him if he remained conscious. His forehead smacking into the gritty rooftop likely not helping whatever issues remained from Skull's undead abilities.

Leaving a Chinese assassin alone in a foreign city he probably knew better, without any guidance to what would not harm the stuntman more or which syndicates to avoid interacting with, and with a recognizable and famous defector from the Soviet Union to somehow smuggle out of the city.

…this was not good.

Police sirens compounded the ill-feelings Fon instantly had, as some civilian likely reported the news someone's body just fell out of the sky to impact a part of the city. In a lethal manner.

Cursing under his breath, the assassin hurriedly dropped to the ground the same manner Skull used to reach him, to burn away any evidence a body had in fact impacted here. The cracks were something he could not help, the blood trail had to go. Immediately, then he had to find someplace secure enough to stash Skull's body for him to find a way out of the city that was not 'carry the other bloody man around in broad daylight'.

(ooo000ooo)

(Saturday the 6th of November, 1971 continued. Slightly outside of Cape Town, Western Cape, Republic of South Africa, Africa.)

Reborn snagged the flapping white thing out of the corner of his eye with one hand, the other cementing his fedora to his head the moment he realized he was in free-fall.

Verde did not require orders to do what needed to be done, at least. One of his hands grasping his glasses and holding them on his face as they fell through the air, the other gripped his elbow firmly back as he grimly eyed the rapidly approaching ground below.

It let the hitman at least check where Leon usually slept, but he came up empty for the shapeshifting chameleon.

On one hand, at least Leon would come to no harm when they hit the earth. On the other, Reborn was pissed his main 'weapon' was missing.

Gripping Verde's forearm since his chameleon didn't require relocating, the Sun resentfully submitted himself to the indignity of a Lightning Hardening his form for him.

As well as the impact they were going to have to go through, since his Flames weren't good for canceling out momentum or gravity and Verde's was only marginally better in just being able to cancel out any harm that might've occurred.

Reborn took three seconds until impact taking in all the details he could, the sea just below his shoes and the city over a ridge of a mountain, then shut his eyes against the dirt before they hit the ground.

Grumpily, the Lightning pulled away from him the moment the Sun wouldn't come to harm from it. Through the dust-cloud that got thrown up from the impact, Reborn could still see the man roughly batting away the loose dirt on his form and giving his eye correction some irritable inspection to ensure it came to no harm.

All in all, though he did not appreciate the dust-dry dirt now coating his suit, the incident could've been worse. As in, he could be stuck with Skull somewhere unknown.

Reborn joined Verde in correcting his appearance, stepping out of the small impact crater, and taking a suspicious look around.

They landed in someone's backyard, though thankfully it appeared as if said someone was not home. Walled, apparently at a time of day that the neighbors weren't home to raise a ruckus about their unorthodox arrival. Yet.

Convenient.

It was a sliding glass door that led into the home whose yard they landed within, with a lever lock that was more than simple to wrench out of place to allow them entrance. Ignoring the judgmental harrumph behind him, the asshole worked for a professional thief he had no right to bitch about Reborn's petty crimes, he waltzed into the neatly kept home to help himself to a glass of water.

Until someone fucked off, he couldn't afford to remove his hat to start brushing himself off to be as clean as he could get for now.

"It is likely someone will report the incident." Verde sniped with ill-humor, investigating the knick knacks on the walls and some of the containers to verify what the local language could be.

English apparently.

There were some French labels, which stood to reason there'd be some imports if they were near a port-city as he had a glimpse of during their 'arrival', but more concerningly there were some food-items labeled in a language Reborn didn't know. It looked more like a local fair than the professionally packaged food supplies did.

"Afrikaans." Verde identified for them both at his raised eyebrow. "Which does not help us much, as this is obviously near a port-city."

Reborn finished off the water, hunting further into the kitschy little home for anything that would help identify where they were. Near the front of the house, on a tacky mint-green woven rug, letters to this address ended up stacked on the floor while the owners were out. Which revealed quite neatly where they ended up. "South Africa. Cape Town."

"Indeed? Somewhat relieving, the local language would then be English. Do you speak it?"

"Yes."

"Then the show is yours from here on out. I am well aware my skills require a setup to begin to be of worth to trade upon." Verde needlessly informed him from the entranceway of the kitchen, hands folded behind his back. "However, if you do require anything from me in the process of smuggling us out of the country, merely ask."

Refraining from sighing, the Mafioso contemplated what they had and how to do it. He then addressed his unwilling traveling companion in English. "Regardless, we need to leave this place soon. Address anything you need to before we get moving."

He earned himself a brisk nod, and the Lightning wandered off presumably to do just that. He spent the first few moments alone beating himself and his hat cleaner, ignoring the dirt falling from his suit to coat the interior of whomever owned this tacky place.

For the eye-strain they had given him from their multicolored riot of decorations, they could damn well clean up after him.

Reborn then opened the front door to snatch the local paper off the stoop, just so they wouldn't be walking blind into any local friction that might be raising its ugly head. He'd read them once they were arguably safe enough from idiotic police efforts, right now securing a bit of food and water for walking around a hot country so they wouldn't have to worry about it later was a better expenditure of his time until the Lightning returned.

First thing first, time to make a few long-distance calls just to rule out a few things.

(ooo000ooo)

(Saturday the 6th of November, 1971 continued. Milwaukee, Wisconsin, United States of America.)

Unable to help the first three panicked flails at finding herself in midair unexpectedly in some dark twilight, Lal Mirch barely managed to orientate herself to whatever glittering city she was suddenly and without warning falling into before a burning hot hand grabbed hold of her arm.

Sonya hauled her closer and wrapped her arms around her, almost holding her in a bridal carry, then pointedly twisted herself in the air to maneuver them both. Somehow.

If anyone would know how to survive a long fall, an acrobat certainly would. The Rain had the depressingly certain feeling they were fucked, regardless of whatever Sonya knew of momentum and how to possibly survive long-fall accidents that might happen.

If she survived, she'd figure out how to murder Checkerface. Then murder him for this bullshit. Twice if the other woman didn't survive trying whatever she was up to.

Then they landed in a darker patch of whatever city this was, by some grace of God out of sight from the brightly lit roads.

Or more to the fact, Sonya landed squarely on both feet in nearly pitch darkness and somehow didn't lose hold of Lal or give her whiplash from the forces they had been under. Somehow. Taking all the impact herself instead of sharing the pain.

It wasn't a clean landing, Russian mom's right thigh bone broke under her back with an ugly wet pop and drove the woman to her knees with a pained grunt of effort. Almost folding over her completely for a second. Lal was alive afterwards, much to her own shock, and after a second to absorb that detail she scrambled to get off the other woman to relieve her of the extra strain.

"Sonya." Breathed out the Rain cautiously, gaining absolutely no reaction as the younger Cloud sibling regulated her breathing and focused on something internal to likely not scream in pain somewhere they were certainly in danger at. "Sonya."

Pointedly the thief gave her some glassy, pained attention with almost glowing purple-not-grey eyes. "Yes, Lal?"

Clamping her mouth down against the impulse to ask if she was alright, obviously not and clearly Sonya was as fine as she could be given her broken thigh, she instead gave some thought of how she'd get her out of here without hurting her more. "Let me know when you're ready."

What little she knew of field medicine told her not to move the injured and find a medic to handle the wounded she was responsible for. Neither of those things were something she could do here and now, or Russian mom could afford to do given how she landed them, and to make it worse they were obviously in a country that wasn't Italia without paperwork or any identification or the right currency.

What the hell did one even do for a broken femur?

…why had it been Sonya's thigh, and not the smaller and more fragile bones in her lower legs or ankles?

Apparently reading her mind, at least about the 'how to not make things worse' topic, she carefully breathed out and in again before addressing her. "Ready for what, Lal?"

"Probably for me to carry you to the nearest hospital."

"We can't afford to do that." She informed her patiently, as if she wasn't in agonizing pain or functionally crippled somewhere else than where they should've been in the middle of the damn night. "Especially since, from the looks of things, we don't have the paperwork to be in the country. Whichever one it is, opposite side of the fucking planet and all since it was morning where we were."

Likely the thief still had a pocket full of trade goods as she seemed to always have on her, money was a piss-poor reason to put off needing medical help. "Sonya, your thigh is broken. I felt it break. You need surgery, and a cast, before we can address where we are or how the hell we're getting back."

A deep breath, and she rose to her full height as if her thigh wasn't broken.

"…what the hell?" Her broken leg wasn't buckling around the obvious break, when she knew for a fact it was broken, and the younger Cloud sibling immediately strode off as if she wasn't horrifically injured. Only to pause before putting her full weight on that leg, then put her full weight on it cautiously, and continued in a semi-halting gait to the only visible road lit with yellowish lampposts. "Sonya? No, seriously. What the hell?"

"I will explain when we're somewhere safer."

Regardless of being able to walk towards a light source, once she got there it was perfectly clear from the thief's pale face and still somewhat glassy eyes she was still in pain. Swallowing her first three questions, which wouldn't help either of them and obviously the woman would walk on until she damn well decided to stop or it was safe enough to, the Rain followed her Mafia Home Tutor warily.

Just in case. To catch her if it came down to it, while worrying about what kind of irreversible damage she might be doing to herself to not leave Lal on her own in a probably hostile situation.

The local language was English from the signs and broadsides posted about, which made her regret her resolve to learn Croatian and Russian first. She could speak French, she could speak fluently in an Arabic dialect, of course they got dropped into a country where she couldn't clearly communicate in.

Sonya spoke English, so there was that.

There was a suspicious as hell lack of people down a city street where they emerged from, even if it was the middle of the night. No pedestrians with just the coincidental view of their crash landing into their city around, no cars, no one of the bare trickle of pedestrians that then wandered onto the same street or suddenly turning on to the road gave either of them a second look.

While that worked for them, because Russian mom had a point in that they had no paperwork to be here, it was still suspicious. "So… you've got any idea where we are?"

"America." Identified the thief with a side-eyeing of a broadside plastered against a telephone pole in the pool of light just outside of the alleyway they landed in. "Milwaukee. Huh."

"Huh, what?"

She turned around, mouth open to answer her, got one good look at the narrow space between two large residential buildings they had emerged from, and paled even more without making a damn sound.

Lal whirled around, but no. The place was still as empty as it was when they landed. "Sonya? What is it?"

"…nothing. Ignore me."

She shot the blonde a suspicious look, because apparently grievous bodily harm didn't even greatly phase the thief but something just suddenly had. Whatever the woman noticed about where they were, had to be bad.

"Don't worry about it." In stark contrast to her own dismissive words, Sonya seized her by the elbow and pointedly shoved her down the sidewalk to remove her from being between her and their unfortunate landing spot. "I know where we are, pretty well actually. This way."

Two actually full strides, and it was blatantly obvious the woman was limping on that 'not broken thigh bone' leg and it wasn't magically fixed. Which would attract some attention to the pair of them, but luckily their attire wasn't standing out and obviously the dark kind of disguised the 'horribly injured' part of their situation.

"…so, you know this place?"

"I went to college around here." Sonya answered grimly, side-eyeing her suspiciously but letting the taller woman act as a living crutch for keeping at least some of her weight off her injured leg. "The University of Milwaukee-Wisconsin."

"And that's terrifying you somehow?" Poked the Rain, still suspicious there was something she didn't know going on. "College is what made you blanch even whiter?"

"I got stabbed down that alleyway. Excuse me for having bad memories." She snarled under her breath, then suddenly flipped her attitude around to give an older man in uniform a polite little smile as he spoke to them.

Lal paused, completely clueless, while the two talked.

Well. More like chatted. As if they were old companions, which if Russian mom attended higher education around here then it was entirely possible she did know the guy.

Eventually, she agreed to something only to be answered with something long-winded. A final nod, something she could recognize as farewells were exchanged, and the Cloud turned her attention back to her. "What?"

"What the hell was all that?"

"Establishing us as Italian backpackers. And that I rolled an ankle, not broke a bone, to the nice law enforcement man 'checking' on us."

"Ah, okay. Back to your college attempt."

Sonya sagged somewhat in her hold, resigned now to go with pained. "Let's not. It was almost a lifetime ago, I didn't finish anyways, and it didn't end well."

It couldn't have been more than a couple years ago, at best, and to be frank Lal was fucking offended. There was no reason why the younger woman couldn't have spent a few years getting a better education, to have been attacked during it was bullshit.

She was a fucking mother, what asshole stabbed the thief for attending classes?

"Stop scaring off the pedestrians." Sonya informed her flatly, even if there wasn't a great amount on the same sidewalk as them still. "You obviously know how to scowl, and they're reacting to it."

Lal huffed irritably, adjusting her grip on the arm thrown over her shoulders and making an effort to keep her opinion off her face. "Excuse me if I'm not pleased to hear you got stabbed trying to attend college."

She heaved a sigh, as if the Rain was being intentionally aggravating. "I did correspondence, and I'm pretty sure that alias was reported as dead in the aftermath. I can't afford in-depth looks at what I am or where I came from. I'm very obviously Russian by descent, whatever else I could try to claim. And America isn't currently very nice to any… Soviet influences."

"Still."

"I'll get it later." Dismissed the other woman tiredly as they made their slow and somewhat ponderous way away from the 'scene' of the crime of illegal entry into a foreign country. "Probably somewhere else. I didn't tell you that to piss you off. It was a while ago, and basically an accident more than-"

"You were stabbed." Lal interrupted pointedly, pausing in front of a still lit storefront curiously because it kind of looked like a pawn shop with the cages over the windows and they probably needed to stop at to exchange some of the thief's jewels and metals into local cash. "That's not an 'accident'."

Russian mom rolled her damn eyes, digging something that ended up being two small bars of some metal from a pocket. Probably meant it was a pawn shop.

She didn't take it when it was offered to her. "I still can't speak English."

"This is a port city. Odds are, the pawn shop people can either speak enough of another language to make it work or they know someone that can translate." Sonya reassured her. "Besides, we're close enough to New York it's likely there's a large Italian community still around somewhere. Even if this is a more heavily Germanic, Irish, and Scottish settled state."

"I know a rough amount of broken German, will that work?"

"…possibly. Won't know until you try."

"How about we both go in." Lal drawled dryly after a moment to consider it, earning herself a grimace from the Russian mom hanging off her. "That way, we have at least one solid language in common and you can not get cheated for the right price for your metal bars."

"Platinum." She sighed out tiredly, shifting to hop awkwardly just enough they could both get through the doors to the pawn shop. "I wish you could speak the language, bargaining with fences is something I don't think you'll need but is a skill you should have under your belt just in case."

"We'll make a date of it when you're not in agonizing amounts of pain and we're not lost in a country we shouldn't be in."

(ooo000ooo)

(Saturday the 6th of November, 1971 continued. Unknown.)

Wrenching their Flames away from the Ancient One's control, Viper drew themself up pointedly to glower death they likely couldn't cause yet. "I do not appreciate your antics."

"Pity." Drawled the other Mist without care, spinning a cane made up of nothing more than whisps and shadows around in his right hand. "So now then, Viper the Esper. You have my attention."

"Mou… what makes you think I care?"

The vicious tone made no impact on the other, the mild smirk didn't so much as shift an iota on the obviously faked features being given for them to argue with.

"If you think this will buy our cooperation, you're sadly mistaken."

"Why not?" Checkerface's chosen avatar countered politely, seemingly actually giving the situation and Viper's complaint some actual thought. As if that was not galling to only now be a concern to it. "Obviously there isn't yet enough to purchase your willingness, so I am making the effort to find out what will."

Viper scoffed harshly, slashing a hand through the twilight-mist effect they were entrapped within. "If you are not perfectly aware of the issues we have with-"

"Control, right?"

One Mist stared at the falsified image of another silently for a long moment.

"There is only one more 'mandatory' event I require in the short term," continued the Ancient One almost politely, setting the illusionary cane down as if to support his equally falsified weight upon in a space of nothingness that enveloped the both of them, "then the situation and missions will be left up to however many of you that wish to accomplish whatever. For a fixed price with bonuses included for clear secondary results, with all information I have at my fingertips available, and more importantly left up to you lot. Very rarely, perhaps twice a year at best, there will be another mandatory thing I know full well will require all of you to accomplish."

"…and you'll leave the choice of involvement up to us?"

"Well," drew out the other Mist somewhat sarcastically, "so long as progress is made. I care not how or why, just that it is."

"If I still refuse?"

"Well then… I'll have no reason to teach you anything of what I can do."

"Mou…" No required promise to not turn whatever equally ancient and lost techniques back on the one teaching, an omission that was as suspicious as it was obvious. Viper thought furiously, debating on if the offer was just enough to cool the ire of being subjected to such Mist techniques in the first place.

"I'll sweeten the pot slightly," continued Checkerface's falsified image silkily, "once a year, you state a question about some current event or person and I'll gather every drop of information you could ever wish to know using my resources."

"I have little information if your information is even worth the trouble to read, mou."

The Ancient One drew his left hand through the air between them, a somewhat thick file stained a deep indigo forming in it. "Then come here and see for yourself. This is all I know of you, Viper. Make your judgement."