2/2

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"…uppity little bitch, am I?"

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

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

"Bjǫrn?"

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

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

"Why do you think I care?"

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

…how the hell did that make any sense whatsoever?

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

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

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

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

It wasn't forthcoming.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"So, it was just stress… right?"

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

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

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

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

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

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

"Do you have vacation time?"

"Yes? Why?"

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

"Ooh, France it is."

"Um… ladies."

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

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

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

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

"You both realize I understand Russian, yes?"

"Yeah, and?"

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

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

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

"Well…"

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

He gifted her with an impressively flat look.

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

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

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

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

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

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

"Yep."

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"Yeah, some help you are."

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

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

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

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

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

Additionally, how the hell was that flirty?

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

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

Her elder sister gave her a level look.

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

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

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

"Mmm… we will see."

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

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

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

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

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

"…why a month?"

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"…pervert."

"Hey."

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

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

"Now what?"

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

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

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

"…we did?"

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

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

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

"…so, he really is a pervert. Huh."

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

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

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

"Miss Sonya!"

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Renato attempted an innocent look.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"…what?"

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

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

"…WHAT?"

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

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

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

"Aww… do you have to, Miss Sonya?"

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

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

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

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

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

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

"Okay Miss Sonya."

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

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

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

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

"…you can make indefinite copies?"

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

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

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

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

"Aww… leaving already?"

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Not to mention entirely unapologetic about anything and everything.

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

"…anything is possible."