Author's Note : Apparently, the site might be eating reviews again. If after twenty-four hours you still don't see your summitted reviews, then it's probably lost.
Russian Roulette : Muzzle Flash
Chapter 3
(Monday the 27th of March, 1972. Adelardo's Ranch, Outside Olbia, Sardinia Island, Italian Republic.)
"Rather ask you, rather than Leone or Old Man Cavallone. Got that I should, and I'll go over and speak with Leone in a bit if you're willing. Rather know that first before I bother."
Adelardo scraped his nails against his scalp at the base where head meet neck, not entirely certain what could even be a 'right' answer here.
Usually… he wasn't ever asked to help. There were occasions where it was animal centric and he got questions from outsiders, but that was more occasional one-offs questions than a request specific to be given to the Cavallone Cloud Guardian.
He made a poor Mafioso, and frankly he was fine with that. He made a 'poor' Cloud, and he really didn't give a damn about that widespread opinion of him either.
"...here?"
"Somewhere not my place. Vasilyev kind of hates me right now." Donna de Mort answered absently, more interested in making herself the black tea he kept on hand for basically hoping against hope she'd visit more than she did. "You here, in a remote ranch far from 'too many' people… or I'll ask the Superbi if they have a seaside cottage anywhere near them in a suitably defended location instead."
To be fair to the young woman, she had visited him more than expected. This was entirely out of the blue and well beyond his expectations for a Cloud that lived 'nearby', given they were not a sociable type on her Hard side of the coin. "Do I want to know why he hates you?"
"I wasn't able to do shit about his situation." Looking up from the hot liquid poured for her the thief, not a businesswoman or criminal politician, huffed a heavy sigh. "Too far outside 'my' territory, actually was my old man's. I made myself… too noticeable? Too valuable. Entirely too fast. Helped me in the moment, basically fucked over every other Cloud in the region. Dorokhov survived it, Timur the Khimki Cloud. Barely, faked his death for a good year to get back on his damn feet and 'take back' his territory. Vasilyev survived it too… just… not as well."
"I vaguely get how that might 'fuck' over another, if there's few to no Clouds but children around… I think I want the details to just make sure I can help here."
"They thought," Sonya informed him bitterly and a bit tired of the whole topic before even starting it, "that I was just a 'wild and ill-mannered' bitch of a woman. Not fairly typical if a bit strangely malleable for a 'Hard' Flame Cloud. Yes, I put a burning hole in the city and kept it lit for three days straight and threw a 'magically' appearing hammer straight through bulletproof window panes… but surely that was just because the vor who 'raised' me didn't 'raise' me right."
Palming his face in sheer dread with one hand, Adelardo blindly gestured for her to continue with the other even if he already didn't want the exact details you could assume from that little.
"So, the Wolfpack Gang suddenly had this little baby boy Cloud who popped up in 'their' territory. The dumbasses thought 'we can 'raise' him better than that bitch', except… Vasilyev isn't that kind of Cloud. He's a bit more 'there will be orderly conduct in my territory' than 'fuck the Authorities, I'll do what I want and impose my rules here' kind of Cloud. Any other lifetime, he'd be a police officer happily and with glee as long as it's for the area he claimed as his. That… didn't go over well with his 'local criminal authorities', vory defy the police after all."
"This sounds sixteen different flavors of stupid." Pointed out the Cloud Guardian with exasperation for the utter trainwreck she was setting up.
"Oh, it's stupid alright." She agreed instantly, sitting back in one of his 'front parlor meeting room' armchairs at his ranch on the edge of Cavallone territory with presumably a cup of her tea.
He wasn't looking, he didn't want to know what her expression or what her opinion on this shit was.
"The massive, line drawn in the sand fault in this situation wasn't that they tried it with him. Vasilyev's not… particularly happy at the idiocy but they were adults and he kind of respects adults and their 'opinions'. Still. Even if he also knows he really shouldn't. They tried it with him and he was more than good enough to prevent it, mostly. As long as it was him and not some other brat who wouldn't know better, he was… not fine with it, but willing to let them annoy him instead. The problem is that vory are… they do not hold property, and they do not have blood family they 'value' more than their fellow 'thieves-in-law'."
He drew his hand down his face, rubbing over his mouth with it as he met her gaze the last moment 'acceptable' for a guest of her standing. "They took everything and killed his parents to try to turn him into something he's not?"
"However did you guess?"
"The stupidest answer I could come up with, given your working parts to this story."
"Well look at that… you're smarter than the typical Russian crook. As you very obviously know full well why that was never going to work." Drawled the young woman sarcastically and with seventeen different flavors of nasty underlying her tone. "I have no desire or interests in asking the Wolfpack Cloud how it went down, or even what he thinks of basically murdering a good fifteen to twenty 'made' men however he did to kill the syndicate off. Beyond the basics Arseniy told me post Mafia School 'forum' night, don't want to know."
"…maybe… not call him the 'Wolfpack' Cloud anymore? If he's killed… well, no. He's collected it, hasn't he?"
"He would also appreciate getting a cat. Several, apparently."
Adelardo snorted, almost despite himself.
He felt pretty awful for the kid now, sure. There was still some bite left to him though, even if he was so abused he left his native territory for clearly different other pastures. He wasn't exactly sure what he felt about a 'territory-less' Cloud, or even what their reactions to one another could even be.
"I've got barn cats, though we make sure they can't breed out of control on this spit of landmass. Could happen entirely too easily. We'll have to pick him up a kitten from a pet shop or some shit."
Sonya tapped some nails gently against the mug, and since it didn't shatter and spill hot tea all over her she did it very gently. "Is that a yes?"
"…as long as it's just the kid, and for the summer. I'm… yeah, Donna de Mort. I'll pitch in for this. Not for free, mind you… but I can teach him to ride a horse and maybe care for one at the same time. Or he can wander around my part of the island the entire summer, I… really don't care. I've got the space for him if he just wants to sit tight for a while."
If it was bad, and he couldn't deal with the 'Wolfpack' Cloud face-to-face or he couldn't deal with a Cloud Guardian, there were several 'ranch hand' apartments over some of the further flung barns intended to be shelter for bad weather. They were more overnight berths than long-term living quarters, but he could refurbish one to hold someone for a couple months instead if need be. A check every couple of days, the kid could do whatever the hell he wanted there instead of living in the main ranch here with him if it was a problem.
"Then, if the introduction goes well, I'll leave him here with you tomorrow." She offered, very smartly not immediately getting down to the business end of that right this second.
As Adelardo never met a Hard Flame Cloud that survived Discordance to come out Soft on the other side, he couldn't say what even might happen. Maybe it'd be like meeting 'Skull de Mort', or really Cherep Bazanov, while teaching his sister how to even mount and stay on top of a well-trained horse.
Maybe not. All they could do is try and make note of how it went after the fact.
"Supposed you'll need to talk to Leone now?"
"…in a bit."
Different. "I'm not usually a man many want to spend a lot of time with."
"Currently," drawled the thief very tartly, unable to help hunching up defensively behind her mug, "you're a better option than going off for my 'lunch date' today. Which is in another whole hour, I expected you to need convincing."
"Yeah… I'm not that kind of an asshole."
"Funny. That's what Skull tends to say. Rather often, too."
"I have the fond belief, or delusion either or, that most Soft Flame Clouds generally realize early on the Mafia's looking for them… and then just don't bother dealing with it or revealing themselves."
Sonya hitched both bare shoulders up absently. "I wouldn't know, you'd have to ask my brother if he's met any others and what they're like."
Adelardo snorted again, intentionally this time, at that very useless offer to go get bullshitted in the face for absolutely no damn reason. Just looking at Skull made it pretty damn obvious that if you didn't have a damn reason to know, the famed stuntman would entirely lie to someone's face instead of tell the truth.
No one knew what Skull 'did' until the man owned up to it for Don Vongola, if that wasn't a damn good liar there was no way he could've gotten away with it for so long on his own.
He made himself comfortable in his front meeting room armchair closest to the door, so the lady had the time to actually enjoy her drink. "What are you putting off?"
"…Leone added in on my 'courting' mess."
"Isn't he… seeing a Miss Puccia?"
"That's what he told me." She answered immediately and with little care to his mild and confused alarm. "As I have no intentions of 'getting into bed' with a complete stranger, he can do as he wishes while I get to know him to see if I can even stand him. Though, Reborn's ahead of him in that 'line'. You'll have to ask Leone what the hell he's up to if you want to know."
He'd put money on this being all… all his Sky's idea for his son to do. For the countless time since Leone discovered he had opinions that didn't align perfectly with his father's ideas, he likely got ordered to do it regardless. Young miss Puccia would make a fine Lady Cavallone, and more importantly wouldn't come with divided loyalties to her own establishing syndicate and foreign nationals that might wander in too.
The Cloud Guardian was pretty sure the key issue here was that Alcina Puccia came from modest means, and this woman right here was of obscene riches. Horse racing had become a bit less popular this long after the post-war boom, and he knew they were starting to scale back a few operations because of it…
If this was all ordered because of a bottom line then Adelardo really needed to go visit his Sky shortly. Even if he was deathly ill, in the head.
Then again, they rarely agreed on much, even right after he became a Guardian. Omar was equally as fond of Adelardo as he found him wanting, and those visits generally ended in loud arguments these later years of his Sky's life.
"…this works both ways, right?"
The young lady blinked at him questioningly, caught mid-sip by his question.
"I can use you to escape for a little while if I help your young fellow one of us? Possibly in a year or two?"
"I would have regardless." Sonya informed him bluntly and with faint confusion painting over her pointy Slavic features. "If it makes you more comfortable to believe so, then do. All I know of two Clouds meeting for any aim, even passively social ones, is not to do so in either territory or only after taking the pain to call ahead to arrange it. I know it's less… fraught with complications between a Classical and an Inverted type. You are the second one I've ever met, and I'm still not certain what I'm allowed to ask for or where I should not."
So it wasn't just Adelardo uncertain of what to expect or even what might be appropriate here. "Mind if I tag along with your lunch dates, Donna de Mort?"
"…if you want." She dubiously answered after a pause of sheer utter confusion.
"Take the pain to arrange it ahead of time." The Cavallone Cloud Guardian paraphrased her own words back to her, which had a lot of her caustic caution clear up damn near instantly. "I have no damn idea what's even appropriate here either, so let's see about something slightly different to find a line in this sand."
The little thief thought about it for several silent seconds, draining off her mug in the meantime. "Alright."
(Tuesday the 28th of March, 1972. Maintenance Berth, Superbi Famiglia Headquarters, Genoa, Liguria, Italian Republic.)
Nilda got there several minutes late beyond the few minutes for word of mouth to pass along to her, just simply because of the sheer size of the Superbi shipyards. Getting across it in good time meant cutting across several busy men trying to get their work done in their own good time.
As she was going to be late regardless, there was no point in getting in the way to the point these shipbuilders would complain to Silvino about his wife running about their workplace like a brainless twit.
"…I think you were the last straw, anyway."
"Oh no." Dimitry mocked sarcastically and with no care in his tone, as Lady Superbi finally got in range of their unexpected and surprise visitor to overhear anything. "I'm simply and utterly fucking crushed, here."
"Shut up, Mitya." Sonya de Mort snapped more to some old long-standing formula than from real affront, tipping the Italian Rain coming through the open bay doors an absent wave despite not looking away from the corrugated steel roofing this building possessed. "So since you and me were out, I took the brat to the Cavallone."
"Is that even a good idea?"
"The Cloud Guardian there is another like Cherep. Inverted. Adelardo's going to do it this summer. Still need to think up of somewhere for Vasilyev to live 'outside' my sight but inside my influence."
Dimitry smacked some oversized wrench to the top of the small motorboat's aft section the thief was lounging on top of, and the woman instantly handed him a screwdriver next from the pile of tools set next to her stomach. "Well, don't fucking ask me."
"I wasn't going to, asshole. I figured I'd ask whichever of your fuck buddies showed up when I came over. And look, one showed up."
The Russian Rain vor's head popped up, and he pinned a highly expectant and pointed look on Nilda for exactly two seconds.
"Sonya, could you perhaps… not say that in public? And no, Dimitry, I'm not here to take you to murder someone today."
"…was it supposed to be a 'secret'?" Mocked the thief now, lazily amused and still not getting off the small sea craft here in need of some kind of work. "Whoops… you realize everyone knows already, right?"
"Of course everyone knows." There were a multitude of ways to make something normally eyebrow raising into something scandalous but not 'objectionable' to the overly opinionated.
Nilda 'accidentally' let it slip in the right ears that 'they' seduced a strong Rain from a foreign land to defect to them instead, whatever influence and power he had in his native syndicate as the head of the Zolotov Flame users. Silvino's preference for men was a risky complication in a society where image and the 'right' behavior could be lethally enforced, marrying her undercut a lot of his detractors for his homosexuality. For now.
Not all of them, and as his wife she had a vested interest in ensuring the more opinionated intolerant assholes had no ground to build up something… very objectionable. Silvino was her friend, her husband, and if she found no fault with him or their marriage then no one else had any right to either.
Now look, it was 'fashionable' to obtain foreign Dying Will Flame users to show off in the Mafia. Just one, preferably one that wasn't invested in anything important another Italian was focused on.
Tyr and his Varia helped no small bit, accepting foreign applicants to test out and if they survived then they were hired. That Lady Vongola was clearly aiming to collect Sonya and Skull de Mort didn't hurt, and the Ninth Generation Vongola Lightning Guardian had himself their older sister Tatiana to marry?
A fairytale 'healer Sun doing the impossible for high-ranking and influential Lightning Guardian to a Sky, so the Lightning marries her to adore and worship the rest of his life' come true to marvel and envy over for this and the next generation. It was a really adorable story of doing the damn near impossible, and the couple were almost nauseatingly cute together in a significantly less wholesome way to boot.
Tatiana's now widely known efforts for Ganauche the First made the instinctive 'eww, foreigner' reaction get forcibly buried.
At least for now.
The Italian Sky Tomaso fucking off to become English was an acid patch left behind even several years after the fact, eating through anything remotely accepting or fond of the ever dreaded 'outsiders' and their antics. Less unfortunate but still sad in a 'lost opportunity' kind of way, it was a pity whatever had been between Sonya and Tyr didn't manifest into anything more than friendly association. It looked as if it might when Sinclair died on her, for a small bit.
…then, of course, there was Reborn and Fon.
The 'World's Greatest Hitman' was clearly an Italian Mafioso. Either full-blooded, or mostly to make for a very unnoticeable difference, Italian. Who only Don Vongola had known to introduce as a Mafioso to others when he 'finally' made it back to Italia, much to his own Guardians' various levels of surprise. Whoever 'Reborn' had been before explosively showing up at Mafia Land out of the blue, the only thing known now?
He was a damn fine hitman to keep the 'World's Greatest' title thrust on him and a Mafioso, who Timoteo clearly knew of and found more than acceptable to not say who he had been before becoming Reborn.
And, the hitman was very interested in nailing Donna de Mort down in his bed for the rest of their lives. Or shimmying into hers in a very public, very 'respectable' manner in that specific example.
A significantly less 'fairytale' and more 'raunchy romance novel' kind of story come true to admire from afar, if only Fon the Eye of the Storm would get out of his way. For those well aware they had no chance a snowball did in hell at turning Nightshade's head, the younger sister to Skull de Mort and a Donna of her own right, rooting for Reborn's success with her was fast becoming a national pastime if there wasn't a local near them gearing up to try.
Foreign woman, yes. Foreign woman that moved here to raise her Italian godson properly in his native lands, a hell of a lot more acceptable than just some other random foreign-born woman off the street. The Mafiosi that knew her ex-boyfriend Mafioso clearly found her acceptable, she had all three now after fixing their specifically individual personal problems.
If Sonya wished to quietly occupy her little seaside corner of the country to raise Flame user children to adulthood in enforced safety, no one was going to stop her. Her lack of ambition in the local economy, civilian or not, made her decently tolerable as she had to be here. Opinionated to almost a fault with the slightly less local to her syndicates, but that was an entirely different problem. A Cloud problem.
She stole money from around the world, came back here to spend it. On the Cavallone, on the Superbi, on whatever her godson or her various unrelated children needed, on whomever had what she wanted because this thief did not steal in her own backyard.
Fon was a significantly stickier 'foreigner' issue, locally. He had no clear interests in Italia, and while that was nice… he had a clear interest in preventing Reborn from 'obtaining' a friend of his. Which was less appreciated, as far as Nilda had been able to hear. Understandable, as very few knew anything about Reborn to know if they could trust him or not. Still somewhat disreputable of the Storm assassin from China, for all it was for a reason no one could state was wrong.
Then again, it was the conflict that made Sonya's personal situation remotely interesting to anyone in Italia to keep it in the general gossip. Otherwise the woman was a typical home-focused busybody, as much as any Hard Cloud typically was. She made no waves on the street level, preferred to stay home and guard her children there, and went off to do evil to others outside of Italia when she wanted.
Nilda shook off her thoughts, sauntering into the boat hangar Dimitry took over to use himself to fix whatever mechanical failure he could get his hands on between other needs for him. "So you're here for…?"
"Do you have any seaside cottages somewhat remote from Genoa, but still decently defendable and not at risk if there's ever any territory disputes?" Sonya asked the ceiling more than her, with nothing in her tone to use to judge by.
"For your young little Cloud friend?" She took 'a' stab in a well lit barrel of fish, easily something assumed by the conversation she came into the tail end of. "I'll have to specifically look for one, as that's not really something I usually overlook for us. Mind if I tell Silvino?"
"Not a damn."
"If I can't find one for you?"
"…odds are, Vasilyev will see if Colonello's willing to 'mind' him somewhere local for four more years until he can 'legally' live on his own. You're an option for just in case that isn't going to work out, because it's Lal Mirch that'll decide if she's willing to let her new man be that occupied on her for so long."
Presumably, she had all summer to look before it would become a pressing issue to say if the Superbi had something for a young Cloud to use as a new 'home' base. "If I can find something, I doubt my husband will object to two Rains visiting often enough to be 'obviously minding' the child in our territory. If that'll help with this little problem."
The thief sat up to pin her with a narrow look, uncaring that knocked several tools off the perch she had placed herself on top of.
"The odds he'll cement to a corner of our territory is enough of a reward here to see about it, yes." Nilda agreed with the obvious, as denying it would do shit all for her right now. "Whatever happens, happens. I'm more interested in helping you settle him locally, because even if he never recovers from whatever drove him to you… there's always his future children to think about. If you wish to add possible future Clouds to my Famiglia's holding, I'll not stop you."
"That's kind of disturbing." She informed her bluntly.
Nilda waved that off absently. "If that's your opinion, then fine. Have it. It means I'm willing to help, isn't that enough?"
"Oh look at that, sex kitten. You can learn." Dimitry offered with a sharp smirk, deeming himself done with fixing whatever had gone wrong on that boat and slamming the outboard engine close again. "I'm so proud of you."
"Is everything that comes out of your mouth always so vulgar?"
"Yes." Sonya answered for her before he could. "Why is this remotely surprising? You have met Mitya, right?"
The vor snickered with wicked amusement in the background.
Sonya shot him a suspicious look, then her, then heaved a disgusted sigh and slid right off the side of the motorboat. "I don't want to know. Fucking off now."
"Bye, bitch."
"Until later, Sonya." Nilda allowed with a slight nod for the utterly brief and glancing visitation, a little bemused at how short and to the point this 'occasionally will catch up with me' Dimitry warned her would probably happen now and again had been. "…why does she call you 'Mitya'?"
"Pet name. She'll only do it now because it won't undercut me for us to obviously be friendly. Before… back in Moscow, she was strictly formal just so it wouldn't seem like I was taking orders or suggestions from her to the other vory. I was the face of shit, and she knew well before anything happened no one would like her in that position." Shrugging well muscled shoulders, the other Rain snatched up his fallen tools to at least toss in the general direction of where it all should go. "Even if I was. You've got five minutes to strip and shut the door, woman. Otherwise I'm making it damn obvious I'm fucking you for your walk back across the dockyard."
"Crass."
"Again, what the fuck was your first clue?"
"I'm fairly certain no one has quite forgotten how we 'acquired' you, rather than you defaulting to your fellow Soviet natives already here to settle in with." She reminded him pointedly, though she still hit the controls for the garage door to close it since she didn't wish to get fucked in public. He would if she didn't, she knew him that well to know it without needing to ask and have it proven in front of God and country. "And, as long as you don't get me pregnant, I doubt anyone will really care if Silvino's involved."
"Vory generally don't have kids, sex kitten. And since I left Russia, I'm not getting more rank than I've got to 'earn' it." Dimitry reminded her right on back, taking the pains to at least scrub off the worst of the grease and oil from his palms if nowhere else in the bare standing sink supplied in this building. "I have no issues spoiling your kids rotten, not remotely comfortable with the idea of having any myself. Besides, with my skin tone so damn different from Silvino's? It'd be damn obvious if you pop out a half-Russian brat."
Nilda sighed at his brutish manners again. "Give me just long enough, Dimitry, and I'll change your mind. Willing to risk it?"
He snorted at her, putting nice long black streaks in her sensible dark blue dress since she failed to strip as ordered before he reached for her. "If you're putting out, do what you want. I'm still getting myself a piece of you while you try. You and your husband."
She had no idea what the hell Soviet criminals were even going to do to keep their Flame user lines going, with that restriction. Wasn't her issue to try bashing her forehead against, and Sonya's previous situation was warning enough it wouldn't work without some kind of fundamental shift in culture or society happening.
Besides, she had a piece of it here to work on. Dimitry was very obliging, if also very stubborn, and more than enough for Nilda to occupy herself with if she had to meddle.
He was slightly stronger than her husband as a Rain, which made her slightly interested in getting a child from him too. Silvino got the first few until he had a son to hand the Famiglia to, but a daughter with dusky tanned skin and slightly more power would be equally nice. Hopefully she'll have Dimitry's nice wavy curls instead of Nilda's stick straight strands.
She could dream, and it was something nice to 'work' on in the meantime.
(Thursday the 30th of March, 1972. Verde's Materials Laboratory, Moneglia, Province of Genoa, Liguria, Italian Republic.)
Talbot didn't exactly have sight with his Flames, he didn't see the same way as he once used to or the way other people saw things. Verde was a font of all 'current day' information on the hows and whys of multiple disciplines, and a really chatty boy to boot given any topic to speak on.
Humans saw light reflecting from surfaces to 'make out' color and shapes. Well… Talbot didn't just see light anymore.
His sight was more spectrums of various sorts these later decades. Color was a bit odd to his sight now, but he could also clearly make out the 'visual' differences in materials and the wavering point of faults in them too.
To be frank, he didn't even need illumination anymore. Habits were just long-standing things hard to break when you didn't care or need it. Heat on the other hand… after a full day next to a hot forge, he needed the extra help a fireplace could provide to keep himself warm.
His 'vision' allowed them a kind of pre-test on the crystal armor plates, a whole suit of them. Mainly to figure out failure rate to know which parts should be replaced with Talbot's metal alloys instead, if that curve or cut would just never work within the physical limitations.
Wasn't that just fantastically absurd?
An armor set, not weapons. Defensive.
Absolutely delightful.
Talbot could see the weaker fracture points even as Peter poured molten glass into the molds, and right now they were having an absolute gas trying to troubleshoot some method by which to correct the crystalline structures before they cooled and fixed in place. Then still using the fractured crystals to see what post-pour testing would reveal that to another that couldn't see the way he could while a new batch cooked.
He hadn't had this much fun breaking shit for… well, since about Vongola Terzo's generation.
So focused as he was on the stress points wavering before them, he didn't even notice for a good five minutes. Long enough she had settled on a table next to the wall and had already gotten comfortable.
Which, unlike any other Mafia-centric Cloud he ever met before, to be left waiting didn't instantly piss off the 'patron' young lady who this armor set was intended for.
Belatedly, halfway through watching the agitator testing to see what that corrected for them, Talbot finally noticed her waiting on them. Then he could only 'stare' in utter bafflement. "What the blazes happened to your Sun Flames, young miss?"
Peter instantly dropped something, being the nervous sort meant he did so fair often. Or often around Talbot. Given what he was, he was never going to take offense. He can clearly see that abuse lingering on his Flames too, so Peter could do whatever the hell Peter wished to and Talbot would politely ignore it or correct it. Depending on what and where.
"…that is an interesting question." One Miss Sonya de Mort, or Sonya Bazanova it depended on who was being asked that question, responded after a moment of contemplation. "May I ask one of my own?"
"Do I get an answer?"
"I have only half a guess, at best." She informed him bluntly and without much care. "If that's enough for you?"
"…eh, no. Never mind." He'd rather get straight answers in his ancient old age, and if she didn't yet have one then fair enough. That was bizarre, he wasn't even sure what that was doing even looking straight at it. "Bit rude of me, I suppose. The name's Talbot, Miss. On and off again a Vongola Mafioso, last retired… ach… near about Don Simora's retirement. Vongola Sesto. However long ago that was."
"Sonya de Mort. Supposedly a Donna, who does nothing, and otherwise a thief."
Verde snorted in the background, nudging the tray back in the center position on the small little machine that normally only shook up chemical flasks for him. "That is… significantly underwhelming compared to reality, Sonya."
"You have a visitor who presumably has lived since the eighteen hundreds, and all you can say is my introduction is underwhelming?"
"I only age when I run out of Flames. It was utterly bloody and stupid of me to do it when I did. Bit of advice for you and your brother, girly. Don't reject aging. Utterly boring to have to find something to do for decades on end, that you haven't already done." Now he remembered to look for them, there was that same lavender tracing on young Adrik's lungs on this woman too. One of them, the brightest tracing of expended Cloud Flames, went right through the poor dear's heart. Almost invisible around the brighter but still expended pale yellow all around it backlit by her yellow-red-purple 'inner light'. "Hope you don't mind I'm helping here, fascinating project to work on."
"…I don't mind." Slowly admitted the immortal Cloud lady in bemusement. "Of course, under the blindingly obvious 'do not inform anyone else how to get around it' clause of secrecy."
Talbot barked a laugh, though it wasn't all that funny. "Oh like I haven't heard that one before. And yes, obviously."
"That is quite rude." Verde needled his patron and boss, earning only a single shrug from the young lady.
"He freaked out Usov. He's still freaked out. I'm still trying to decide if I'm impressed or offended."
Well. Depending on a couple factors, that actually made all this passive poking here make sense. "The young man Mist trapped in a boy's body?"
"That one." She confirmed in her absently toneless way. There could be some emotion to her voice, but not very strong ones or all that much at any specific point.
Still waters ran oceanic deep with this one. There was no way any Storm could be dispassionate, they just didn't work like that. It was entirely possible for one to seem that way, he'd seen that before.
Including the split second between being seemingly dispassionate and being very passionate, like a match being struck. Generally happened at the worst times too… and Cloud Flames on top of that?
"Rude little snot."
"Yes."
"Not sorry." Talbot informed her equally as bluntly and to the point, which she seemed to appreciate. "I have no bloody idea why he would even want to do that to himself, but if he did then he can behave like it."
"Little will set Usov back on his heels these days, I believe it might have been good for him to encounter something so out there he has no idea what to do in response." Decided Sonya de Mort after a moment of thoughtful contemplation. "I do appreciate that you treated Anna differently."
"The Mirror Lady is polite." Bit odd to have that be another Mist's litmus test for others, manners. Usually those were more pointedly geared to only 'allow' certain types through as decent enough to deal with, not anyone with sense…
…actually, that made it rather more sensible of a precaution. Went all the way around back to the start of that little typical habit of theirs.
"You all are bizarre." Talbot informed the young woman that gathered up all these strangely wonderful Flame users to herself. "It's delightfully refreshing. When will your brother be back? I actually can't wait to meet him too."
No wonder Kawahira got blindsided by this generation. Hell, he got blindsided here too. Even if the others were all typical for criminal Flame users, this little pocket of it was unapologetically conforming or not conforming to their own damn taste.
Little 'Romanian trained diviner' here wasn't just some gypsy Cloud woman with immortality, no. True, sure… not quite the whole story.
"This fall. October, November, or so. He was delayed on his way out this year, odds are he'll be late coming back too."
He wagged a finger at Verde's general direction. "Let me know when."
"…very well. In the meantime, would you perhaps like to study the process of Propagation on this material? I have… several questions on the mechanics and the stresses applied via the process you may be adequately fit to answer for us."
"Of course I would."
That seemed to be the signal the young Sun-Storm-Cloud lady was awaiting, because that was when she moved off her little perch.
Talbot waited out the time she needed to be instructed in the new prototype and what care was needed in putting it on to turn his attention on the man with a minor Sky talent.
So minor he seemingly only had 'space' for one Guardian in his fractured Flames, and he already married her. He couldn't figure out if the ex-long term prisoner of some unfortunate fate knew it or not, or if he should even say something about knowing it.
His wife and Lightning Guardian was a fine example of a woman, highly defensive and struck suddenly out of the blue if she felt her Sky might be remotely uncomfortable with something. Not nearly insecure about herself or her place in Peter's life to need to hang around when not needed and in the defense of another much stronger Lightning with no designs on her Sky, so a well-loved Guardian that knew it full well.
Smart of him to 'hide' himself under the guard of a pair of Clouds. Startled him somewhat often given how fast he corrected for it, but no one looking for a Sky would even do so when the most 'eye catching' examples in this area were two immortal Clouds.
Somewhat unfortunate his Flames fractured down to Sun and Rain too, reducing his potential as a Sky to damn near nothing else.
"Peter, leave it. I'll fix it."
"…that's also rude." Refuted the man pointedly, but quietly. "You are a guest, Master Talbot."
"Don't think you want to pick that up." He countered, but not gently for this Sky did not appreciate that patronizing carefulness for the damage he was striving to overcome. "With the tongs under that crucible you use."
"…I wasn't exactly certain how to until it cooled. I'm not sure I can withstand that level of heat for even a moment." Peter confessed very sheepishly. "Just roll it over off the tongs, I can take it from there."
Talbot did as bid. Another of these refreshing examples of unspoiled Flame users, with thorny underlying reasons for being so. Still charmingly different for all the darkness around them.
He still got the drips of molten glass off the concrete floors too. Leaving that lying around was just untidy.
(Monday the 3rd of April, 1972. The Arcobaleno Manse, far outside of Farindola, Province of Pescara, Abruzzo, Italian Republic.)
The first thing Sonya got coming through the door was politely fixed attention from Lal Mirch, which was… new. "What?"
"Did you seriously pull the exact same shit on Colonello that you did to me?"
"And what exactly did I do to him that I also did to you?"
She fetched out a paper from a stack of them on the dining room table, fluffing it out pointedly and turning it around to show the thief Italian headlines basically losing their shit over 'Nightshade's' two weeks long spree of relieving morons of their valuables. "Didn't you also steal from NASA before you got around to helping me?"
"…maybe." That particular job was still an anonymous thief contract, even if basically everyone on Mafia Land knew who did it already. She could still get herself into trouble if she ever opened her mouth about it, so Sonya wouldn't be confirming or denying shit all about that job. "I work for a living, Lal. I have to do something to afford all my morons and everything else."
"You are fucking ridiculous." Deemed the Rain pointedly and with utter exasperation, getting up from the table to wander off for the basement door.
"Hey." A token protest, yes. It wasn't like Lal didn't have a point here.
There was no way Bjǫrn could spend the entirety of the St. Julian's payout in so little time, and while it wouldn't last much longer it had still been more than enough for a good few months of work. It's just she now had more morons to afford, and she wanted a nice cushion for whatever stupidity happened next with them.
Sonya wandered off to the kitchen herself, pulling a doggy water bowl out of Alek's doggy bag of supplies and toys. Her dumb fluffy boy knew this place well enough he didn't instantly go off to sniff around again once she had it and he knew they would be sitting tight for a bit, he put his toy bag down right in the middle of the way of everything to go jump up on a couch to nap on.
Dumbass. There were obvious changes that happened around here she could see from the damn kitchen sink. "Wasn't the light for the basement on the inside of that door before?"
"Yep." Confirmed Lal bluntly and with all the irony as she kept flicking the switch. "Halfway through last week, it swapped to be out here. So I can signal Colonello, or he can signal me, that something needs us up here. Usually for a meal. It's also all now soundproofed too, and I have no fucking idea how."
"…creepy." Sonya deemed after a moment, putting the doggy dish down on the floor for whenever Alek decided he needed it. "So what have you covered with him?"
"Basics. Welcome to the Mafia, you've been seen in my company so no there's no way in hell he's going to escape now. Idiot isn't remotely concerned a bit."
"Two Rains trying to have a serious conversation? Yeah, Lal. Rain Passivity."
Colonello opened the basement door with a wry expression to pin on his former military officer before she could snap something back. "Lal, once or twice is enough. Cleaning up and ensuring the guns are discharged fully under a strobe light is a bit difficult."
"Whoops." She answered in a flat and unconvincing tone as she flicked the light off. "If you can't do it blindfolded, you need more time down there."
"If you two can save the lover's spat for after I'm done here…?"
She got an irritated look and a quirked smirk from them. He was the first one to all but bounce over to the table, and she reluctantly followed more sedately.
"I thought you'd be hanging around, being Lal's 'Mafia Tutor' and all."
"It may come as a surprise to you, but Lal is an adult." Sonya countered dryly, not seeing a point to move out of the kitchen since they could see her clearly from right here. "And being an adult, she does not require me to always hang around over her shoulder. She has a number for me for questions in need of immediate answers, otherwise we just set aside a day or two to see about any difficulties she might have. Which this is."
"She's also damn responsible and highly focused." Colonello agreed instantly. "Good news, she trained me to be the same way."
"Yeah, I figured."
"If this wasn't just a check in for me, and more for you, I'd kick you for that." Lal informed her former subordinate with irritation. "Quit stating the obvious."
"Firstly." Sonya pointedly interrupted the both of them with no patience, raking the fingers of a tattooed hand through her pale strands in mild irritation. "You both are Rains. It's apparently difficult to do and keep in mind, but more than one Rain in a conversation brings up the risk of Rain Passivity. Where you're unable to convey the right tone and urgency to another Rain. You get 'used' to being the calmest in the room at any one time and forget that just because another Rain is calm doesn't mean they are that calm. Please, for the love of fuck, keep it in mind."
"The… 'general problem' with our 'type' you told me about before?" Planting both elbows on the table, the male Rain jerked a thumb at the female one. "Is this why she never takes me flirting with her seriously?"
"No, I never take you seriously because you do it at the entirely wrong time. Idiot."
"But you're hot when you're angry! I can't help it!"
Lal went beet red, now angry and unimpressed to go with apparently mildly embarrassed. She grit her teeth together, folded her arms under her chest, and flatly ignored the man now. Fixing her attention on the view out the kitchen window over the sink with spite.
"Apparently, your timing sucks." Sonya answered with mild amusement, because at least it wasn't just Fon's shit ass timing that caused someone problems. "Which might not be helping."
"Aww, man." Thunking his forehead to the tabletop, which made Alek raise his head sharply in the background at the weird new noise, Colonello heaved a heavy sigh into polished wood. "Okay. Thanks for the heads up, didn't know that. Well, you tried to tell me. I didn't know it went that deep."
"Rains do it automatically. You'll need to make an effort to not do it."
She earned herself a thumbs up, but he wasn't lifting his head yet.
…okay. "If Lal hasn't told you yet, her goal is to establish a paramilitary group to 'catch' all the military Flame users, instead of them being set up to be dismissed in disgrace or murdered off if not. As Flame users can't do government or military work, it'll have to be some sort of 'black bag' organization to keep you all on the right side of the Laws."
There were a number of reasons why that had never been established yet. A problem might just be that no one had a powerful enough patron to protect it's formation before some other Mafia group decided that was not alright and snapped it up whole to prevent it. Between Donna de Mort and Lady Ottavio of Vongola, Lal now had that.
If that was what her Tutee wanted, Sonya had no reason to not help her get there. However little she might help beyond just allowing it to form up under the weight of her reputation.
Again, she'd be likely getting a nice slice of profits from it as her moronic minions did what they wanted under her thumb. Lal would be another like Verde, who would wander off eventually and become something in their own rights before long. A contractually enforced one.
She had literally no issue with this.
Heaving another heavy sigh, Colonello lifted his head to give her a searching look.
"I'm an import. The military was never something I ever had to deal with." Sonya allowed with little care for the obvious accusation here. "No, I didn't know the fate of your fellows until she went looking then Skull and Usov went with Lal to go see what your branch of the military knew of Flame users. I can also clearly agree a different method is needed, whatever the local Mafia thinks. I will assist if you need it, but as an import I will be having no say or influence on what or where. Not my expertise or my place, after all."
"Thanks." He repeated himself, more sadly this time. "Seriously, lady. I know you're getting paid for it and all, but really. That's… fucking awesome of you."
"You still have to build it." She countered blandly with a shrug of a single bare shoulder. "And if it's even possible to keep going without me once I let Lal go from being my Mafia Home Student is something I can't tell you. We'll be learning together."
"That I can fight." Colonello claimed stoutly, hauling himself back upright and not leaving himself bent halfway over to lay on the table. "I can see that to fight it. So I'll take my chances here."
"Then, until such time as Lal has enough men and women, the current focus is finding who set her up and setting her up with 'underworld' contacts of her own."
They both looked at the woman in question, who was still ignoring her former subordinate.
He then turned back to her. "I just really like that I have all the pieces now. To be honest. Being left in the dark, when she obviously knew something, was basically killing me. It's not nice to wonder if you should trust in your command structure like that. Then it turns out, yeah. They knew not giving her the boot would kill her but said shit all about it being the reason. That's not… good."
"…she's alive." Sonya offered dubiously, not certain if that would help or hinder this man.
"For no fault of her own." Countered the sniper tiredly and a limp flop of a wrist. "I honestly would've been good with not being added in under you, Sonya. Just the damn explanation was decent enough for me."
"They don't have enough information to explain it. What good would admitting what would happen do, if they can't prevent or stop it?"
He rubbed a hand over the whole right side of his face. "Just knowing the risk would've been nice."
"Oh, sure. 'For reasons we have no clue about, and for doing something we can't explain, if you don't fuck off you'll die' is very… convincing."
"Frankly… that's more information than several of my old missions gave me to work off of." Colonello groused sourly, giving an absent shrug as he sank down into his seat. "I don't want to be 'reasonable' for this. It's bullshit and I'm not changing my mind."
"…if you insist."
"The Beccio or the Pesca Famiglias." Lal offered suddenly, apparently deciding she had put it off long enough.
"Pesca might be a little… too high profile for you right now. Legacy Rain syndicate, one of their men is the current generation Vongola Rain Guardian. They might be interested in 'acquiring' more Rain blood."
"Uh… what?"
Sonya eyed the very suddenly offended Colonello with skepticism. "It's genetic, the ability to use Dying Will Flames. If you can do so, then typically your children can do so. Generally how Flame users reliably gain more numbers, have kids. So… yes. That's something you'll need to be careful of."
"The Beccio, then?"
"…as far as I know, they don't have Flame users. Specifically and with intent. They might have a use for freelance Flame users like you're aiming to be." The thief could only shrug for her, rubbing the thumb of her left hand over the loops of her lace tattoo on the back of her right absently. For no reason, the ink had settled under her skin some weeks ago. "The center of the country?"
"Where I want to be, yes."
"I'll need to be with you for the initial meet-n-greet." She offered instead of commenting on that, because it didn't remotely matter to her. "To show that it's an official thing, not a 'done behind your Tutor's back' kind of shitshow. It'll give you a step up in proving the 'making a contact' needs with them but will also make them very clearly aware not to possibly 'overload' you or risk my irritation. Whichever you decide to go with."
Lal thought about that for a couple seconds, flatly ignoring the puppy dog eyes from the Rain right next to her. "You're not going to say not to try contacting the Pesca?"
"Frankly, trying for both might serve you better than one or the other one at a time. Just be upfront about it if asked. The more aware you're doing this, the safer you are from being… 'disappeared' for 'reasons'."
"Okay! That's not okay!"
"Welcome to the dark side of society." Sonya offered to Colonello darkly and with annoyance. "The parts where 'acquiring' new blood literally means kidnapping and holding people by force. Kidnappings, rape, and torture are not 'outlawed' among outlaws. It's 'can this person or their allies stop it before we lose more than we gain trying it' that prevents shit. Italy has a very 'family-focused' outlook on their crime syndicates, so the crime syndicates are weirdly family-friendly. Guess what isn't typical in the Mafia elsewhere?"
"No oversight, no safety catch, nothing will enforce good behavior but our reputation and conduct." Lal finished off bitterly, pointedly glaring down her fellow Rain now. "It's not just a different branch of the military, idiot. We're on our own here. There's nothing to fall back on, we're fucked if nothing goes right."
"Ah, we've got that to fall back on." Colonello even made a flourish of a wrist in the thief's direction. "And we're going to be what others can rely on. So there. Still not okay this is a risk for you two."
"…technically." She corrected with reluctance. "You can't impregnate a Flame user against their will, we can… 'burn' off that kind of… thing. Storms are more infamous for it, but it's still heat. It can kill sperm before that complication happens. So… as long as we have our Flames, it's not a threat. If rescued in time."
"Like that makes it any better."
"It's a complication to keep in mind, not something risked by leaving the house." Which, if a young Flame using woman didn't know that was possible… which probably did happen. Depressingly often, if she really wanted to look into it. "Look, Colonello. No, it's not okay. But because it's not okay is no reason to not be aware it's a possible motivation from others around us. Lal's a particularly powerful Rain, I'm a none too shabby Storm and Cloud myself. We can give anyone attempting to force bullshit on us extreme burns if we're not willing to put up with it, if not just snap their damn necks."
Kind of why made men with principles got popular, even if only locally where they were. Only to usually get outweighed by the made men without principles around once they got enough 'backing' or power to them, who would cross those lines and be that level of absolute asshole. Then there were the odd ones that had the power but wasn't that level of asshole… basically she could think up of about three out of everyone ever off the top of her head.
Her own damn foster father, Don Vongola if only because he had an image to uphold, and maybe Duyi Zhōng counted in a weird way.
The trick was either just finding the right balance of what asshole behavior was okay and the dickishness needed to be 'feared' in a society of habitual murderers… or resign yourself to forever being 'picked on' by the types that didn't baulk at using those base human vices to further their goals.
…well, at the very least her Tutee looked slightly vindicated by Colonello's reaction to this particular topic.
Maybe she helped a bit, that'd be nice. "Anything else either one of you need to know or check with me on?"
"Is Vasilyev okay?" Immediately asked the ex-military boy with still too much heart, like the overly attached moron he was. "He's still alive, right?"
"He's decided he hates traveling around so much and doesn't like how many people are at my place, so I put him on a horse ranch for the summer. Half to give him time to learn Italian, half to see if getting him a damn pet will 'help' him any." Rubbing the side of her face with a tattooed hand, Sonya could only shrug. "If he's okay or not is still a question, Colonello. He's alive and trying to adjust."
"Good. Told you he'd be okay."
"…did you not hear a word I just said?"
"Yeah, that's never going to work." Lal informed her very wryly, rubbing a thumb up and down the bridge of her own nose in aggravation. "I've tried. He's just stupidly optimistic by nature. Somehow. It's enduring."
"If he's still moving forward, however grudgingly or without much motivation, then that means he's improving." Colonello insisted stoutly, firmly crossing his arms over his chest. "It may not look good to any of us, but we're not him. As long as he's trying, then that's fantastic."
"So, I'll take it you won't mind visiting." If Vasilyev hated her, which… fair enough, then saddling this moronic idiot of Lal's with the responsibility might help the kid out more.
Sonya had let the brat make the choice, ask her for help just before she was more or less 'exiled' from Moscow or do it himself. He chose to do it himself and take that risk, but it had cost him his parents. Not a price he had been expecting to pay, and he understandably resented that.
Resented her.
Resented just about everything in this moment, for a choice he made himself and saw out to the bitter end.
"Of course not!"
"Do you mind, Lal?" Checked the thief first and foremost, earning basically a shrug.
"Not a damn bit."
Worked for her. "I'll get you the address when I have it."
(Thursday the 6th of April, 1972. Fon's Apartment, Mafia Land.)
…it was odd how quiet it was, living alone.
Hopefully he will get used to it. Fon vaguely remembered Sonya making the same complaint before, but not what she decided to do about it herself. Likely that meant he would become used to how quiet it was when not seeking rest in a barracks full of ten to twenty other men.
When one was used to at least low-pitched background noise of conversations or movement, seeking rest suddenly alone made it a bit more difficult than he appreciated.
It was not as if he never had his own private quarters ever before, but usually such only lasted for the duration of his hunts. Two or three days, at worst. Several days of it seemed to disturb him at some deeply personal level to restlessness.
Eventually, he got tired of waiting for what seemed to be too elusive tonight. Fon got up out of bed and went to see if one of the herbal teas he had been given by Sonya's elderly grandmother crafting circle would help.
It was at least something to occupy his hands with.
He still was not wholly familiar with his new place of residence. Equally, it was not as if he had many personal possessions in need of such space to be stored. Fon still could not help but move as if he was invading someone else's residence and not moving about his own space.
…the Storm still failed to hear the thief sneaking in. Without her canine companion, so at least it wasn't that galling when she obligingly flipped on the 'galley kitchen's' light for him. "Good evening. Tea?"
"I thought I told Bjǫrn to inform you to have this place checked over first, before moving in."
"I did." Fon insisted with concern, opening what had become his 'tea cabinet' to see what he had in stock. Which he did not purchase for himself but were gifts to 'warm' his new home, and he did appreciate the thought they were gifted with.
Mostly.
He still wasn't certain if most of them were safe to even make tea with, much less drink. "Did you locate something alarming?"
Sonya glowered at him in professional pique. "Of course not. This is your place, I would not poke around without your permission. You didn't wait for me to get back."
"…aa. No, you were busy."
She remained not happy, seated on the island counter that also doubled as a rather high table he was still not used to. "So what did you do? I hope you didn't just decide to deal with whichever fuck's old traps and caches when and if you found them. This fucking island doesn't clean those out for you, Fon. They'll just ensure the place is structurally sound and there's nothing obviously lethal left in doorways or windowsills. You're responsible for taking care of the previous occupant's… alterations."
"I inquired with Liqin and some others I worked with before to investigate this flat with me. Yes, you are the best thief I know of, but Sonya… you were busy." He remined the woman with a measure of exasperation, taking one canister of dried tea leaves and possibly orange peels to investigate.
…it didn't seem tainted, though the tin was very obviously repurposed. This was full of dried oolong, not some orange tinted blend.
"I'm checking it over in the morning." Stoutly announced the Storm-Cloud with irritation.
"I do not mind." As a matter of fact… that was a much better idea than dubious tea blends that still needed investigation. Fon swiftly replaced the tins back in that cupboard, then barely had to do more than take a single step to snatch her up. "I appreciate the care, even if you are more offended I did not ask you than concerned for my wellbeing."
There was a momentary pause of startlement on her end, and he held still until she decided if she wished to escape his grip or if she would allow him this too. "…it's not that I don't care, Fon. It's that I'm a snob, and you put yourself under my thumb. I'd appreciate the opportunity to counter the obvious shit before it can become a problem Zhōng might have issues with."
"That is still quite agreeable." It was still care, and he still appreciated it. Even if she had motives beyond just for his own sake. "Are you staying the night?"
"I can, if you want." She wiggled experimentally, aiming to slide out of his hold.
Fon allowed it, after checking to be certain she had removed her boots. "I would."
It was unfortunate he was needed in the morning, and it was quite late already. Ah well, if he woke early enough there could be some opportunity for him for… mischief.