2/2

"Germany invaded the southern parts of this area, tried occupying both that region and invade your Soviet Union at the same time through this part. The split pull on their manpower, between the winter fighting and suppressing the local resistance to Nazi rule, enabled the Allied Powers and the Red Army to bisect the Nazi war machine near the end of the war." Clipped and short, Crina summed up the pertinent information while glancing for Sonya's stash again. "Anything else you wanted to know?"

"No, that covered it." Even if she did have a worry she might be enabling the old bat's alcoholism, the thief pulled out one of her remaining bottles of wine she kept just to bribe the old woman with. "Thank you."

"Don't mention it."

Sonya slipped out of the back 'room' of the tent, leaving the gypsy to hit the bottle in privacy.

Crina was likely from this region. Romanian, the native language of the Socialist Republic of Romania, was widely known to be her native one. While not a solid bit of evidence of one's nationality, Cherep was Czechoslovakian but spoke Russian as well as she could, it was a good regional hint.

Whatever it was Sonya's question had startled out of Crina, it was likely not a good memory.

CLXXXVI (Saturday the 16th of September, 1967. Budapest, Hungarian People's Republic.)

What, exactly, did the Groβes Volksfest do during World War Two?

It was a question that only occurred to the thief to wonder well after a midday conversation with Crina, after the circus got through the Moldavian Soviet Socialist Republic and well into Soviet Ukraine.

It was very late to be wondering, if she was pressed to be honest.

Sonya had only checked into any possible mafia connections this circus might have had before joining up with Cherep, which it didn't possess beyond random happenstance. The underworld would've also kept track of any nasty rumors, if only to take advantage of it to hide their own bloody work behind or to muddy the trail for any police looking for them.

Most positive rumors, at least in the mafia, wouldn't travel very far from where any incidents happened.

Since the question only occurred to her very late, a few weeks from ending her time as a gypsy's apprentice, she wouldn't be able to answer it.

Not without a major lucky break.

Which she wasn't going to hold her breath for. Luck wasn't really her thing, it was more Cherep's.

This show business thing required more than a little, and the man that grew out of her dork of a best friend did fulfil his childhood dream of being a stuntman.

That being the case, she hunted down her foster brother and put that little question in his head.

Even if he was gearing up to be 'Skull' and not 'Cherep'.

Skull's only saving grace, in Sonya's eyes, was that he tended to be more caustic and careful when not performing for a crowd. Cherep would've wondered why she wanted to know but do it anyways, Skull would ask questions on why and what she'd do with that information before agreeing.

It probably wasn't wise to treat both sides of him as different people, but the dichotomy would probably help him prevent others linking him and her brother's identities together.

If he really was her foster brother, then wouldn't they get along better?

Getting asked why she wanted to know was fully expected, and Sonya answered with the truth.

"I scared Crina by asking about local history during World War Two. It was a little... concerning, how white she blanched when I asked her about it."

Skull considered that, rubbing one side of his freshly shaven jawline. "Are you asking out of concern? Aw... Sonya, I didn't know you cared that much."

"It has been almost two years," the thief defended herself a little awkwardly, "and Crina's been more than accommodating about me. It is professional courtesy."

"It took you over five to accommodate Tatiana as more than just 'that girl I live with'. Nearly seven to actually adjust yourself or your schedule for her if need be." The stuntman pointed out with a grin, looking highly amused. "This is almost as fast as you adjusted for me."

"Crina's useful."

"And that sounds like an excuse, not a reason." He countered just as quick.

She thought about it, but frankly didn't understand why she latched onto him so fast and therefore wasn't going to attribute whatever it was to Crina. "I think it is more a common ground we share, because I do not like her nearly as much as you... well, Cherep anyways."

That knocked her fellow Cloud back a step mentally, and the man shut his mouth without saying whatever else he had in mind. Instead he studied her a moment, then shrugged it off. "I'll keep an ear out, but I'm not going to go around asking. If they tell me, they tell me. If not..."

"That is fine." It really was only an idle wonder. Had she thought to ask that back near the beginning she might've spent some time figuring it out herself.

"You know, I find it ridiculous how hard it is to shake you off something." He continued on another tangent that made the thief backtrack mentally to see if there was a reason for it. "Like a dog with a bone, you never really give up once you get something stuck in your head."

Baffled by this new conversation's aim, Sonya suspiciously regarded him. "...what?"

"You're so self-honest, you never argue about things I can nitpick to change the subject." Skull clarified, which didn't help his little sister in the least.

At her continued silence, complete with what was probably a lost look aimed in his direction, he sighed. "And I can only do this when you're not interested in learning something."

"I... am confused."

"I know. I did it on purpose." Skull admitted wryly with a snicker. "Just to check to see if I still could."

Well... he was a bit of an ass like this. She shrugged it off and latched on to something else, so she didn't flounder for the rest of the conversation. "I am not self-honest. Trying to be, but I can be blind sometimes."

Rachel had died being blind to her surroundings and the risks she took. The Russian thief she became in death had tried to correct that once she could understand, but it was harder than she had counted on.

She failed more than she succeeded at it, too.

"But you can mentally adjust when something's pointed out to you." He interrupted her musings on the only death she had to her, pulling her attention back to issue he was referring to. "Normally, a person gets a little defensive or disgruntled when their flaws are pointed out."

Sonya blinked at him, then ran their conversation through her head again. "Skull... were you trying to pick a fight with me?"

"Maybe." He showed her his hand, with his forefinger and thumb only a breath away from touching. "A small one."

"...why?" She really didn't understand why he would want to.

"Mostly to see if I could." Skull admitted candidly. "But you're not very confrontational with me usually, and since Dmitriy and Tatiana solved the question of what your Storm Polarization was I got to wondering what is up with your Cloud nature if you're not what a Cloud is normally."

"Did you figure anything out?"

"You know how a 'Classic' Cloud is usually thought to be a 'lone wolf' at best or a 'territorial aggressor'? You're not, so if you aren't a loner in that extreme then maybe you're more of a 'pack' minded Cloud."

...pack?

"Like Arseniy's the 'alpha', so you fitted yourself under him after an adjustment period." He continued in a thoughtful tone. "But I don't think there's such a thing as a pack of two, so you added in more when you finally understood that. Lisa, Tatiana, and myself."

"Are you suggesting I am a 'domesticated' Cloud?" Sonya concluded incredulously, feeling a bit strange as she followed his line of thought.

Skull shrugged nonchalantly. "A 'beta' Cloud, maybe."

That was... weirdly fitting. "...let me get back to you on that."

"It would mean your 'territory' thing is really people, but more of your fellow pack mates instead of just individuals." The stuntman suggested, as if it would change her opinion of it.

The thief was certain he was pulling this from the local warnings of wolf-packs and how they behaved. She had heard the same thing herself, from Jiayi. "I will think about it."

...but it was strangely apt.

CLXXXVII (Saturday the 23rd of 1967. Kiev, Ukrainian Soviet Socialist Republic.)

Going from the Socialist Federal Republic of Yugoslavia to the Hungarian People's Republic and then through the Ukrainian Soviet Socialist Republic was Sonya favorite way into the Iron Curtain of all ways she had found herself or had followed as part of the Groβes Volksfest. Even despite what she learned on the tail end of that route.

Yugoslavia, for a border state on the edge of the Soviet Union, was well governed instead of suppressed and feeling like it. She didn't know quite what all happened in that country, and the lack of knowledge bothered her, but since she only had herself to blame for that blindness she refrained from asking around.

As it was now, it was a mostly pretty countryside with many farms and very little political unrest. There was some, and even Jaq could hear a bit of news when he went for a drink after helping set up some of the tents. The thief didn't hear some of what he had but given her tattoos and nationality that had been expected.

Hungary recently had a lot of political trouble that was only now dying away, but the new build-up their government had was proving to be rather popular with the civilians. Frankly, Sonya appreciated the trees and sights more than the local government. It was another country where she didn't really get a whole lot from the mafia hangouts, but she did get to hear a lot about major and current Soviet Russia dealings.

Ukraine, on the other hand, held most everything in terms of mafia gossip she had missed.

Yugoslavia's underworld widely specialized in security, which apparently hailed back to the time it spent occupied under Nazi rule in World War Two. She had found nothing of concern while going through the country because they hadn't wanted her to find anything.

Learning that made her want to either crack open a history book to see what they had to have dealt with or go back and take a harder look. The first would have to do until she had an excuse to go back there, but it was still a jarring bit of information to learn.

Hungary's underworld was still recovering from the unrest only half a decade ago, so Sonya found really nothing in terms of organized syndicates but more freelancers starting to group together again. The fact there was no local information in what she got there would have either been a lack of any to be had or another attempt to conceal how vulnerable the region was.

Likewise, it could've covered the encroachment of foreign syndicates getting into the country.

She felt jarred at how badly she had misjudged territory so close to her 'home' one, but not really surprised. Lisa hadn't been all that encouraging when it came to a lone thief's ability to keep adequately informed, so the Russian Storm-Cloud figured this rash of bad luck in terms of intel-gathering was just proving the woman's point.

At least she hadn't been working and needed that information to prevent herself from pissing off yet another syndicate she wouldn't be able to handle on her own.

Something for Bjorn to do for her. The kid would probably like feeling as if he was contributing, instead of being mostly ignored from time to time. If the Icelander was good at it, then great. If not, then Sonya would figure something else out for the kid to help her with.

She wasn't really surprised it was Ukraine where she got corrected on what she'd missed, the Russian Mafiya was neck deep in this country. Her tattoo worked more than just a picture in her skin and more like the sign she was entitled to some information they were supposed to be for.

Other than as a blatant record of her criminal career and acknowledgement that she was Mafiya.

Sonya did wonder how Omertà was kept up if the Russian Mafiya liberally plastered themselves with a normally easily seen record of everything they did. One would think the police would've noticed the color and at least asked about it or noticed a trend.

It was encoded, sort of. However, a whole lot of thieves getting arrested with the same spider web or cat tattoos in various designs should've been at least something interesting to comment on. Vory getting busted for murder or fighting back against the police showing up with graveyard tats or police shields on their arms had to be somewhat alarming.

Well... something to wonder.

CLXXXVIII (Monday the 25th of September, 1967. Kharkiv, Ukrainian Soviet Socialist Republic.)

"Where are we, anyways?"

"Someplace." Crina snapped back, the irritation in her tone almost more reflexive now than felt. "You made a couple threats of stealing my boots, but if you like them so much I thought you might want a pair of your own."

Sonya eyed the Romanian woman's back thoughtfully as they continued down a little side-street in one of Kharkiv's less affluent neighborhoods.

The pair of boots she was wearing now were in fact old cast-off of Crina's, which were still insanely comfortable for second-hand footwear if a little too broken in now for full comfort. The heels had started to go, so the thief had been playing with if she wanted to get herself her own pair of boots or branch out into different shoe styles.

Boots, anything ankle to calf in length, were popular choices for footwear in Soviet Russia. The winter alone meant sandals or canvas shoes didn't do much to protect the feet, and given how much of Russia's year was comprised of winter or winter-like weather?

Well... it was the thought that counted.

Sonya could appreciate the old bat's attempt as it was.

Her Romanian was very rusty since she had switched back to Russian for the last three months, in fact all she caught was the name of Crina's cobbler when she greeted the man in her native language faster than the thief could keep up with.

Horatiu was a graying gentleman with a pinched expression on his narrow face, making him look akin to a rat or some other pointed snout mammal. It also gave him a semi-permanent glare, or maybe squint, on his cleanly shaven face.

Her inspection of him went unnoticed, because the man was a lot more interested in her feet than her reaction to him.

"Crina... are you really letting the poor girl walk around in boots so old?" Horatiu tossed the gypsy a dirty look, sniffed at the flat expression his was met with, then set his hands on his hips and gave a measuring look to the thief herself. "So darling, I suppose you would like your own pair?"

"If you wouldn't mind." Sonya told him slowly in Romanian, a little bemused. "I take it you work on commission?"

"You would be right, miss. Step inside, lightly now." He waved both master and apprentice into his slightly dismal looking shop, which proved to be a lot different on the inside than out.

She, merely as a thief, greatly appreciated the trick.

Horatiu's shop might be in a slightly run-down neighborhood in a mid-sized Ukrainian city, but it seemed as if the cobbler himself wasn't doing nearly as poorly as the façade of his shop suggested. He had whole skins of leather from various animals on display alongside a glass case of buckles and various finished boot style examples, a very nice little parlor one could wait within, and the whole place smelled of the material he made his boots out of.

PETA would've abhorred him, Sonya thought absently, looking around curiously.

She should probably also correct her mental title for the man. Cobbler weren't the type to fashion new shoes from fresh leather, those were cordwainers. There was a distinction, and the man would probably throw a fit if she called him by the wrong professional title.

He seemed to be the type to, a fashionista if she was any judge of character.

"One pair or two, darlings?"

"One." Crina shot over her shoulder, heading straight for that little parlor corner.

"Two. One now and one more this winter, then probably another the year after that." Corrected the thief, still waiting for the man to set her where he would want her to do his work. "Even if these are old, I still would rather wear them than break in a new pair I would not like so well."

She had learned the art of flattering clothing makers at Tatiana's elbow, so she knew how this went for the most part.

"Oh?" Horatiu snatched a couple of things that paid a passing resemblance to the shoe size measuring devices Rachel had used once upon a lifetime, making his way swiftly back to where she was in the middle of his store. "I take it the 'another a year after' is for when you're finally fully grown, but this fall? So soon?"

Sonya ignored the jab at her age, because the man had a point with that observation. "I have a little... party to attend to this winter. I don't know how long it will be, so having a pair of your insanely comfortable boots to ensure my feet won't suffer is an attractive proposition."

She obediently followed his expansively given gesture to a stool setup in back and hauled off her right boot when he made another of those with a wrist flick at the end.

"Do you have a dress?" Free advertising via patrons was likely how the man stayed in business, but the thief wasn't sure if she would direct any attention her boots gained to him.

Becoming a mafia client might or might not hurt his business, and that would be a poor way to repay Crina for this.

"I figured I might as well build an ensemble from the ground up."

It was the right thing to say, even if Sonya was mostly sure she was lying through her teeth and would instead get her foster sister's help. However, this was the way Tatiana had instructed her to flatter her outfitters when you wanted them to think kindly of you.

From the look on Horatiu's face, he knew it full well even if he was pleased she had given the 'usual' flattery.

"How dressy?"

"It's a black-tie event."

"How droll, little black boots then?"

The Russian smiled a bit slyly. "I was thinking more of a little red dress with knee-high boots, so if you think black will work...?"

"Oh... oh." The older man smiled back, just as slyly and a little wicked. "I think we can do something with that idea, and your marvelous legs."

She blinked and looked down at her stocking clad feature in question with a measure of confusion.

In the background, Crina started to cackle.

CLXXXIX (Wednesday the 27th of September, 1967. A cargo train car, Russian Soviet Federative Socialist Republic.)

Sonya didn't know how Crina managed to pull them from the circus for a day but appreciate it greatly.

She might be a tad bit in love with her new boots.

"I really do wonder what that says about you." Cherep commented idly, tuning up his motorcycle while she perched on a crate of miscellaneous circus items.

"I might have a fetish for boots?" She suggested dryly, flexing her calves and pointing her toes. "These are wonderful, though. Even if they are a little stiff still."

"You're not going to get to a Tatiana-level love for clothing, right?" He asked, sounding genuinely worried.

Sounded worried, but from the smirk he was trying to hide by working on his metal deathtrap it was in tone only.

Scoffing, the thief folded her leather clad legs underneath herself and leaned over to block some of her fellow Cloud's limited light in the moving boxcar. "Christmas is going to be in Mafia Land this year."

"What? Why?"

"We don't want to move Lisa." The news had the stuntman frowning thoughtfully instead of nearly panicking. "She's been on bed-rest for a few months already and since the hospital there is the one that enabled her pregnancy, taking her away from that was decided to be an unwise move."

"So..."

"Just for a few days, please. Lisa's baby might even be born by then, and you might be able to come back to Moscow with them if all goes well."

He considered that for a long moment, eventually giving her a shrug. "I can do a few days for Lisa. Do you know what they're going to call him or her?"

"No, Lisa didn't tell me when I asked about what gender she wanted." Sonya watched him tighten down a few bolts idly, absently digging around in her purse for her cigarettes. "Are you going to be alright, Cherep? Going on without me, I mean."

"I half expected you to bail eventually." Standing upright, or as well as he could in the cramped confines of the boxcar they were 'watching', he leaned back against the crate she was seated on and gave her a crooked grin as he crossed his arms for the warmth. "I knew this wouldn't be a life you'd like, so the mere fact you were here for the beginning is awesome enough. So thanks, little sis, but I can take it from here."

She shifted, just enough to dig the toe of her boot into his ribs to make him yelp. "Seriously, Cherep."

"I'll be fine, I swear." The stuntman amended himself hastily, rubbing at his abused side. "Master Liam knows what I can do and didn't panic, if I need help he's probably the better bet. So, you're not leaving me without any support. I'm sure Crina wouldn't mind telling you all about anything you'd want to hear about in the years to come."

Cherep's expression when talking about Sonya's master in all things mystic was torn between sour exasperation and disgruntled amusement. He had found it somewhat reassuring and annoying that the thief got on so well with the crotchety old bat, after some time that was.

"So, what about you?"

"...what about me?" She parroted back, confused.

Settling back again, the stuntman ticked various people and things off on one hand. "Well, let's see. I'm set for the time being, Tatiana did a switch and is settled in on her new job, Arseniy and Lisa will probably be occupied for the next twenty years raising their little rug rat. So, what about you? Are you really going to try for that title you said you'd get to Dmitriy years ago?"

What title she told Dmitriy...? "The World's Greatest Thief thing?"

"Yeah... that." Waving one hand around, for what purpose Sonya was too distracted to guess at, Cherep continued in an only mildly sour tone. "If stealing for you is anything like my stunt work is for me, I can fully understand why you don't want to do something else with your life. So? Is that what you're going to work on for the now?"

...it wasn't a bad idea. The Storm-Cloud might have only suggested it in a fit of childishness, making light of the skill and dedication such a thing would really require, but given she was an associate for the 'World's Greatest Hitman'?

"...are you trying to support me in stealing things?" She asked instead of comment on her 'childhood' life-goal, a little amused at the change in view her foster brother seemed to have gone through.

"You are my little sister, who supported me doing what makes me happy." Cherep returned dryly. "Even if me doing it gives you fits. Like... denting iron railing fits."

"I replaced those."

He gave her a sideways look for that, a smirk pulling up one side of his mouth. "And why you think that excuses the very act...?"

"...mafia etiquette."

"Really?"

"You can destroy anything you like in Mafia Land... so long as you pay to have it fixed." His fellow Cloud informed him, only a little embarrassed over knowing and making use of that information.

Like Renato's apartment door, which apparently the hitman had replaced within an hour of the thief finally going to bed that one night.

Cherep whistled lowly. "Well... surprisingly thoughtful of you all."

"It really only happens in Mafia Land."

"And there would be the catch."

Sonya sniffed at him in mock-disapproval, finally lighting the cigarette she had pulled out a little while earlier.

"Well...? An answer to my question, please?"

"I just might." It was an overarching goal to work for, anyways. Something to do besides seriously dig into history to see if she could find any mention of the Arcobaleno, I Prescelti Sette, or just where this world's history deviated from what little she could recall from Rachel's lifetime.

"...huh." Was her brother's answer to that, looking only slightly conflicted over the subject matter. "Well... good?"

She sighed and toed him in the ribs again then ignored his squawk of protest.

He was still such a dork sometimes.

CXC (Monday the 2nd of October, 1967. Saint Julian's Hospital, Mafia Land.)

Actually leaving the Groβes Volksfest for the last time was a quiet affair. She had only made a few friends who she really cared for the opinions' of, so the short and sweet farewell suited her just fine.

Checking in with Dmitriy and informing him she'd be finally 'back' officially after the New Year gained her a semi-disgruntled, semi-thankful glare and a neutral look from Galina. The Lightning's presence in the Rain's office surprised her, but she supposed the other female thief might not have wanted to continue without Tatiana's presence in a mainly male ring of thieves and this was a decent alternative until she found a new group.

She did manage a small meeting with Bjǫrn, and marveled over the fact he had shot up a good foot and didn't look borderline staved anymore.

In decent clothing and only slightly illegally employed, he finally looked like the gawky young teenager he was. The Icelander was a bit nervous over seeing her again, but as far as the thief could understand it was more of a 'want to make a good impression' one rather than just being unnerved to see her.

Explaining exactly what she had figured he could do for her distracted him nicely, and she left him to plot and plan how he'd work it out with a warning that he'd start as her 'lackey' in three months.

She really did hate the title, but it was what the kid had worked so hard for. Bjǫrn looked perfectly happy with it too.

Mafia Land hadn't really changed much, on the surface. There was an slightly alarming change that happened on a more personal level.

Tatiana's letter hadn't mentioned the fact Lisa was on bed-rest within the hospital. Just that Arseniy had solidly decided not to move from Mafia Land until the pregnancy was over.

"I'm fine." The older woman started before Sonya could say anything, a wry little smirk on her lips. "I made Tats not inform you of this, so you wouldn't panic."

Sonya sank onto her bedside, feeling a little out of sorts. Panic would've been a good assumption for what she'd feel over this, and it did describe what she felt now. "Lisa, are you-"

"Tats' asked me that a fair few times already, Sonya." Lisa reassured her calmly, smoothing down the blanket that was spread over her expanded waistline and legs. "This is happening."

Huffing at her stubbornness, the thief sat back and gave her foster mother a look over. "Are you comfortable? Need anything?"

"You know, it's fairly silly how much you and your sister like to fuss over me at the moment." Waving a hand at an entire stack of what looked to be fashion magazines, probably Tatiana's offer for a distraction, and a rather lived-in looking armchair next to her bed, the older woman shook her head. "While I wouldn't say no to some of your more frivolous books, I'm fine sweetie."

"Where is Arseniy, anyways?" Sonya asked, mentally trying to recall the titles of the books she had deposited into her storage unit on the island over the last two years. They would be the easier ones to grab, until the foster sisters cleared it out to sort through.

"Out for lunch, he promised to bring me back something with ham in it." Lisa pursed her lips and gave the armchair, the thief was sure her foster father had taken residence upon for the last leg of her pregnancy, a considering look. "I wish I had thought to ask for some pineapple slices before he left."

"I think the hospital could handle the fruit." She suggested, watching as the older Mafiya woman's expression lit up as she reached for the phone on the bedside table. "Anything else?"

"Anything more and I'll start to feel fat." Taking a moment to place an order, for cottage cheese and the pineapple, the brunette gave her youngest foster daughter a more serious look. "Now, how was your little vacation?"

"Alright, Cherep's doing well and has promised to come here for Christmas."

"I'm asking about you, sweetie, not your brother. Although, it is nice to hear a little more about him than his 'I'm fine, whatever country is very hot or cold' messages."

"...I'll remind him to write more when I go fetch him." She promised awkwardly.

"I'll do it myself when I see him." Lisa countered cheerfully. "Now, about you?"

"I've decided I fail at gathering intel and figured Bjorn could do that better than I could." The thief started hesitantly, encouraged by her accepting nod. "I'm... probably going to attend a Vongola Ball right before Christmas, so I'm probably good for distracting Tatiana for a day or two."

"I'm delighted to hear it."

The tart comment surprised a huff of laughter out of Sonya. "I might have pissed off the Triads this summer."

That obviously surprised Lisa, and the woman frowned slightly. "Might?"

"I don't know what they wanted, or if they needed me or just someone I fitted the profile of. I'll let you know when I figure it out."

"Hmm... odd." Offered the older woman but made motions for her to continue without explaining why she thought that was odd.

"Cherep made a suggestion about why I'm not a typical Classic Cloud, which might pan out. If I, or we, ever find another Classic Cloud user to compare it to." The thief wasn't sure if she liked the idea but liking it or not really shouldn't have a bearing on if it was or not. "He was right about my Polarization of Storm, even if his reasoning was rather... stupid."

"Arseniy won't work as another Cloud?"

"He's not active." She shrugged, of two minds about her foster father's disinterest in Flames.

While not diving into that Pandora's Box of issues would keep the man mainly the same without exaggerating his 'Cloud'-ness, it also meant he was a little vulnerable to Dying Will Flame users.

It was a personal choice, so she wouldn't try to get him to change his mind.

"While interesting and all, this wasn't quite what I wanted to know." Lisa interrupted her thoughts, giving her foster daughter a stern look. "How are you doing, personally?"

"...I made a friend? A very crotchety, old crone of a friend?"

"Much better, sweetie. Continue."