No Such Thing as Coincidence...

[Guest]

Miss Shostakovitch walked the busy streets of Moscow alone today. Normally she had body guards with her at all times. Tough life leading a rebellion during such hostile times. Nobody knew her face yet though, no one knew Nina Shostakovitch was the leader of the Red Ribbon Resistance. They would see her as just another Drachman girl walking the streets of their once glorious capital. Emphasis on the word 'once.' Since the recent battle between the Soviets and the Allied Nations, almost 40% of Moscow had either been destroyed or burned to cinders. Another 25% had been heavily damaged and required massive repairs. Nothing had gone unscathed during that fight, buildings, monuments, citizens, soldiers, all of them had been hurt in some way that day. Sadness filled Nina's heart at the thought of this, the massive loss to her country and its morale evident on everyone's faces. She shivered as a blast of cold hit her exposed face. The weather was slightly colder than usual. Winter wouldn't last too much longer, but the snow would last for a long time, just like it did every year. Even with her fur cap, thick red gloves and scarf, and her heavy coat she could still feel it.

Moscow. A war torn disgrace of a city, bending to the will of the Soviets more quickly than any other in Drachma. It was quite pathetic really, how easy it had been for them to kill Czar Loki and destroy the glorious Kremlin. The KGB insisted that it had been destroyed by Amestrian militants during the assault a few weeks ago, but Nina had been there. She saw it destroyed by an agent of RIOTE, and it had been an accident. A horrible, stupid accident that killed countless innocent people who didn't need to die, but they did anyway. Miss Melody spat in the snow at the thought of it, made her sick to her stomach. The people of Drachma would have their chance to show the communists what they thought of their regime, but not yet. Not just yet. The time was soon though, Nina could almost smell it in the air. Tension. Anger. Despair. Hatred. Towards whom it was hard to say. Many blamed Amestris, Xing, and Creta for their current hardships, but soon everyone would learn the game changing truth; the free nations of the world were not aiming to hurt Drachma, but only destroy the Soviets and RIOTE before they caused any harm, before they could do exactly what they did, take over this wonderful country and turn it into a war machine, bent on world domination. Just...disgusting.

She couldn't stand the thought of it, yet it consumed her mind completely. Nina was completely distracted, deep in her thoughts when she ran smack into a Xingese looking man. Training kicked in as she fell, rolling on her back to land on her feet. She picked up her hat and shook off the snow, sliding it back on her beautiful purple hair. Wait, she had just ran into someone! Running over to help him up, she said "I'm so sorry sir, I wasn't paying attention to where I was going. Are you okay?"

[Guest]

Now, what was he doing? Ah, right. Today was Sunday: Important day. He was, by no means imaginable, a religious man . . . but he valued Sundays and his own traditions devoutly every time. What traditions, you might ask? Ones that involved the displaced and needy. The ones whose homes had ceased to exist, here in Moscow. Area by area, shelter by shelter, he paid visits to see and understand what the pains of the people were. That, and he made sure to bring generous amounts of goods for them, seeing as how Drachma was still reeling from the war.

Reconstruction was well underway, but at this rate it would take months to see any decent progress, leaving these people displaced for well into a whole year. In addition to that, there was the issue of ... lack of government support to the crippled, unemployed, ill (physically and mentally), since costs were being allocated elsewhere . . . or a god-damned budget was STILL trying to get made. Nothing.

So, it became a weekly ritual for him, and for all those who worked below him or alongside him to try to help however they could. Well . . . it was kinda hard to do, given there wasn't full public support or even just simply trust in the current military, but . . . then again, Hei seemed to have gotten a bit of public attention. A Xingman who appeared out of nowhere, climbed Drachma's ranks through sheer devotion and skill to Major and then ended up earning himself a slot in the Kuvalda? That either got him a lot of admiration or a lot of ire, attention that he does not mind, but seeks to channel it for the best possible results.

But yeah, so he was on his way to complete his self-motivated duties to Drachma. To Moscow and its citizens, when not trapped among the others to deal with the reconstruction work for hours without end an-

WHAM! He had been lost in thought, listening to the chatter of the men and women who were helping him carry these things. And, well, for a moment his mind wandered (as did his eyes for a bit) making him unaware of someone who seemed to also be lost in thought cross paths with him. And the two had collided with each other. Now, he had been knocked down somewhat, but he was already back up on his feet the moment the person who had run into him rushed over to lend him some aid.

"I'm so sorry sir, I wasn't paying attention to where I was going. Are you okay?"

"Ahhhh, it's quite fine. Quite fine, accidents happen and all" he responds kindly, along with a smile back to the ... citizen, it seemed. A young lady, well bundled, who had a sincere ... almost pure look in her eyes. Wait, why was he focusing on her eyes? He had dropped his bags!

The fellow, clearly in the standard uniform and not really much coverings on him (which was odd, given General Winter was unforgiving and harsh here), stooped over to collect two large brown bags containing a wide variety of foodstuffs. Accompanying him, but slightly behind (he had been leading the way) was practically a whole platoon's worth of co-workers who had either been forced or convinced to help him out, all carrying sizable packages themselves. He would have gotten more people, but the shelter they were dropping by today wasn't all that large ... or at least, wasn't the last time they were around.

"It should be my apologies, good citizen, for not being more attentive to where I walk." he speaks again, after securing both bags back into his arms. Whole paychecks worth of stuff, mostly drawn from his personal accounts and some other bits and pieces from the others. Their destination is not all that far off, so the others just keep on going, polite smiles all the while. These were kind-hearted people who worked with him ... capable of just as much brutality as he, but not always resorting to it.

The Xing-Drachman then poses a question, a bit of genuine concern (over the recklessness) and interest about this young lady who had crashed into him.

"If you don't mind me asking, just where on earth are you headed to in such a rush?" he asks with a smile. His voice is a warm and polite one, expressing the peaceful thoughts that lay on the outermost parts of him and easily expressed to others.

[Guest]

Now that the man was off the ground and his bags picked up, Nina could get a proper look at him. The first thing she noticed was his uniform, Drachman military. Not surprising, they were pulling anyone into the military these days, even foreigners by the looks of it. It was the patch on his shoulder that nearly broke her self control however. He was a member of Kuvalda, the "Fist of Drachma" as they were sometimes called. The group had been heavily responsible for the 'defense' of Moscow from the Allied Forces, as well as leading the Soviets against the Loyalists and killing Loki with members of RIOTE, but the public would never hear that from them. One day, the people of Drachma would know the true nature of their so called 'leaders,' and on that day Nina would cleanse this land of the disease that was communism and its followers. One day soon...

She didn't let any of this phase her however, her expression remaining solid and full of happiness. What surprised her just as much as the patch on his arm was his current nature. He seemed happy, polite, and extremely nice overall. A ruthless killer with a soft side, sounded like her to an extent. Nina smiled back, just as genuine as his was. It was nice to see a good person in this town, especially one willing to help others. It was obvious he had been on his way to some of the homeless shelters, if they could be called that, to provide aide for those less fortunate. She looked in his eyes and saw a killer, but there was more than just that. There was a softness to them, revealing his good side. Yet even deeper she saw something else, something she didn't expect. Doubt. Suddenly a thought popped into her head, something her father used to say all the time. 'Everything happens for a reason, good or bad. There is no such thing as coincidence...' Hmmmm, it looked like the Gods were watching her after all.

"I'm so sorry sir. I just got into town a little while ago, I'm from St. Petersburg. I mean, Petrograd," she replied, correcting herself there at the end. "I always forget the name is different, still getting used to that," she continued, chuckling about it as if it was some trivial thing she really gave a shit about. "Actually, I was hoping to find somewhere I could help. I had heard there were a lot of people left without homes after the battle, so I figured I could come and help!" This last part she said with excitement, though in reality this feeling was not from helping the homeless. Indeed she had been heading for a shelter, but this was for recruiting purposes. Those that had been wronged by the communists were the most likely to join the Resistance, and who better to go to than those that had lost their homes courtesy of the Soviet Regime. It was a great opportunity, one Dmitri would have jumped all over as well. If only he could see how things were going! The RRR was up and running, and doing so quite well. With the recent agreement/alliance with Gelemorte and her upcoming meeting with the leaders of Amestris, things were looking up for the Drachman rebel fighters. Dmitri would be proud of what the Resistance had become. "Are you headed to a shelter as well? If I could help in any way that would be great!" she finished, a big grin on her face. Show time!

[Guest]

"I'm so sorry sir. I just got into town a little while ago, I'm from St. Petersburg. I mean, Petrograd. I always forget the name is different, still getting used to that."

Ahh, yes. That was right. They had renamed a city, which Hei found odd. Why on earth would you opt to rename a whole city out of the blue? There was just no logical reason behind that, so he didn't really care (mind) that this young lady had mixed up the old customary name with the new legal name. In fact, he went out of his way to reassure her.

"It's quite fine, ha ha. Don't know what the cause for the renaming was, it's still the same city no matter what! So, call it what you like." he says, still maintaining that friendly tone.

"Actually, I was hoping to find somewhere I could help. I had heard there were a lot of people left without homes after the battle, so I figured I could come and help!"

There was something off. Hei was now paying attention to his person as the conversation had gone on, and while he was no master analyst, he could feel something didn't feel right. The look in this person's eyes didn't feel comfortable, not that it mattered since if it was a fight she wanted he'd probably be able to deal with that with ease. But, no. The look she had was familiar, eyes that had seen horrors. Eyes that had gazed into madness, and managed to avoid looking away. Yes, he knew those looks . . . every man and in his profession wore that, day in and day out. It was something that could be disguised, but never fully concealed.

And that something was what caused him to feel . . . doubt. Doubt about the nature and intentions of this person, which undoubtedly could cause him to display more emotions than he intended. His eyes made it clear he had seen hardship, his eyes also revealed he had turned away from the madness as much as he could. What they didn't show was the farthest extent things had gone for him, unlike those eyes suggested. Clear, pure. But tainted. They were trained to recognize these things, detect even the minutiae of stimuli in order to form perceptions, predictions . . . but he failed in that second half.

Yes, he knew there was something going on. But his mind failed in all attempts to try to bridge the gap in what he saw before him and what his gut was trying to tell him about this person . . .

And without missing a beat, he continues on. The mask he wore was not false at all, it was him, just like everything was him. Falsehood was not the means by which he expressed himself to others, otherwise he'd be just a larger hypocrite than he already is and he'd rather not have that. Hei smiles, despite all the worries he has about the situation, he's still delighted. More hands to help meant that his and his coworkers relief effort could be carried out a bit more smoothly.

"Are you headed to a shelter as well? If I could help in any way that would be great!"

And for the time being, he shelved all that reflection on this woman's personality and motives. For now, the citizens of Drachma ... of Moscow, needed aid, and aid they would be given, be it from his hands or another.

"That would be most wonderful!! Please, follow me! The shelter we're visiting today is not that far away!" he responds, genuinely pleased at getting more help and much more so that another comrade citizen was willing to help out her own fellows. His speaking, however, resumes even as he continues walking, expecting that this kind individual was walking beside him. About a couple meters, and then a turn about a corner to find the shelter.

"My name is Hei Jin, and as you can tell, I've some Xing descent in me. Can't say I know exactly where I came from, since I took blows to the head. May I ask who you are?" he introduces himself, and he would offer a hand to shake if he wasn't already carrying two large bags. The introduction is followed up with admission on his part that he was not fully Drachman (or Drachman at all, really), as well as information about his origins ... since it seemed that this person had given him information on where she had come from: St. Petersburg. And it concluded with a question of his own, to which he expected a pleasant and punctual reply.

[Guest]

Nina could see it. He saw straight through her. In her eyes he could see the loss, the menacing look of a killer. She may not be an open book, but it was obvious he could tell. He couldn't see everything though. Not what she'd done for the Resistance. Not what happened to her family. Not that she was leading a rebellion to take down the very organization he swore an oath to. Probably better that way, he might arrest her. That, would be detrimental to the plans, setting them back a lot. She kept her calm, and her cool, her face not showing anything but pure happiness and content. Why would she show anything else after all? Fate had put something in her lap, and it was time to take charge with it!

Even though he had seen what he had seen in her eyes, he kept going as if nothing happened. He was good, this would be an interesting day. Most interesting indeed. No need to keep a hold on the past for the time being however, as an important matter was to be dealt with. 'Helping' the citizens of Moscow in their time of need!

She smiled as he replied, nodding in return. "Thank you so much, I really do appreciate it," she said in return, a big grin now on her face. Today was just getting better and better! Nina had a hop in her step now, it was almost silly of her. She stopped immediately, slightly blushing as she did. That was kind of weird, not something she has done for a while. Not since her father had passed away now that she thought about it...

They went around the corner and there it was, the homeless shelter they would be helping at today. Though nothing to look at, hastily put together and poorly done, to many this didn't matter. A roof over their head was more than enough, and Nina knew this was key to her success today. With construction well under way in New Moscow, the RRR would be able to provide supplies and housing for those in need, pulling more to their cause by the day! It was a brilliant idea her sister Irina had come up with, one that Nina stuck with even now, with her sister captured by the Soviets. Sadly their search for the facility where she was being held had shown little result, but Lady S. was confident they'd find her.

"My name is Hei Jin, and as you can tell, I've some Xing descent in me. Can't say I know exactly where I came from, since I took blows to the head. May I ask who you are?" Amnesia from a severe head trauma... was he really lying to her in a situation like this? No, he looked in those eyes of his again and saw no deception, only mere honesty. Tragic, to forget ones memories. Especially those held so dear. Nina knew she'd hate losing her memory, they were too precious to her. "Ah yes, how rude of me! My name is Nina Shostakovitch, nice to meet you," she replied, knowing a hand shake was out of the question with his hands full. Instead she smiled brightly again to show her pleasure in meeting him. "Now I've seen many officers, but none that are Xing. A rare occurrence indeed. But regardless, to meet a good honest man in Moscow these days seems hard, pleased to make your acquaintance," she continued as they approached the doors to the shelter. Nina prepared herself for a hard days work, but then what's life without some good honest work right?

[Guest]

Deception was the name of the game. A glorious game that he played. He hated lies, and hypocrisy . . . but he loved this game too much to give those up. The result? He told no lies, but still could make off with mass confusion and doubt about who or what he really was. This was going to be amusing, as both he and the girl were obviously trying to search each other, trying to know what they were.

And really, each could only grasp basic ideas about the being, but not the truth of the inner nature, though Hei, admittedly, was probably having a harder time doing that.

"Ah yes, how rude of me! My name is Nina Shostakovitch, nice to meet you."

. . . Such a name was unfamiliar to him, to be honest. Drachman naming traditions, first off, were odd things still, so he'd have no idea what to make of the name. Still, it sounded a bit nice, with the surname being a bit odd to hear and possible re-pronounce later.

"The pleasure is mine, miss." He responds just as they turn the corner ... ish ... there used to be a building there, but now all that's left was the remaining debris needing to be cleared.

"Now I've seen many officers, but none that are Xing. A rare occurrence indeed. But regardless, to meet a good honest man in Moscow these days seems hard, pleased to make your acquaintance."

Honest man? Nowadays, hardly anyone could be called honest . . . such a sad fate for Moscow and Drachma as well. The Xingman has no words to say, to explain anything really, and just smiles. Smiles that quickly fade upon hearing the noises from the shelter just right in front of them now.

Gunshots.

Gunshots at a shelter, where the men had gone on to. Oh, wait. No, they could see the disturbance: A clearly perturbed fellow who was using some kind of firearm and currently shifting his arm so the gun, once pointing upward, was now pointing at the head of one of the fellow militants who had come with Hei to do this charity work.

And well, this was a bit of problem. No one really wanted anyone to die, that includes Hei ... that and none of them had really come armed, mostly since Hei didn't WANT them to come armed, so . . . shooting this guy (for them) was out of the question. And last problem: He was speaking Cretan, from the snippets of mad ramblings Hei could pick up from him, but alas. The Xingman's grasp of that language was poor, if anything, so he would be unable to communicate.

Oh, problems. Problems.

"Well. Shit." he mutters under his breath at the scene.

[Shula Brighton]

{BUMP}

[Guest]

Nina saw the smiles and nods, noticed the inner thoughts. Interesting observations, interesting indeed. She didn't have the opportunity to truly contemplate these observations however, as an immediate threat had arisen. This threat was in the form of a man holding a gun, and more importantly shooting it at innocent civilians. Well, in the air at first. And now, this firearm was pointed at one of the men who had come with Mr. Hei. This was a problem, and not one so easily solved either. Instinctively she reached to her hip, going for the pistol she had concealed under her coat. She stopped herself though, knowing that pulling out a gun right now wasn't the best decision.

Nina took in her surroundings quickly, trying to analyze the situation. Gun was just a simple 9mm pistol, looked like a Glock to be precise. Compact, easy to conceal, but sturdy and well made. The man looked ragged, homeless perhaps from the recent fighting. He also looked angered, perhaps even mentally disturbed in some way. Perhaps PTSD would be the answer. She couldn't tell, not without talking to him. Speaking of which, he seemed to be talking in Cretan. Something about war, death, and being alone. It was obvious that no one around seemed to understand him, understandable considering Drachman was the primary language, Amestrian being the second most common. Luckily, Nina had learned Cretan while she had been there for school. "Well. Shit." Hei mumbled next to her. "Well shit indeed," she replied.

She couldn't let someone innocent die, not on her watch. Looking at Hei, she nodded hoping he'd help her out if it came down to it. Nina raised her hands, as to show she was unarmed. "Sir, please calm down. Just put the gun down and we can talk this out," she said, attempting to calm him down. "My name is Nina, what's yours?" Making a connection was key to these kinds of situations, without it nothing could be accomplished.

[Guest]

His bags had been set down. Immediately after cursing, while the insane Cretan-speaking man was turning about, clearly pensive and afraid that someone was going to get him from behind, the Xingman quietly and quickly knelt down and placed his bags. Really, the last thing he needed was to drop them (again), and it was also pretty handy to check how alert the armed one was. Which was to say, despite his alarmed state of consciousness and the fact he was holding a gun, he didn't exactly pick up on the fact that Hei had made a sudden move.

No bloodshed here would be preferable, this was just outside the damn shelter ... or well, if you could call it a shelter, really. Just a small place made out of the remains of a still standing building. So, despite the rambling man clearly being out of his mind and willing to shoot, the fact that someone could make such a large movement behind his back (assuming his back stayed to them) meant it was possible to sneak up on him and take him out.

The only problem, now, was making him stay still long enough for SOMEONE to get close enough.

That was about when he noted that Nina was planning on doing something. Well, considering that she might be able to communicate with the madman, by virtue of not being a member of the military, it was certainly worth putting some trust in her. After all, he didn't want one of his men dying now, much less anyone today. So, when her eyes turned to him, inquiring what he would do, he gave a small curt nod with steady gaze back at her.

"Sir, please calm down. Just put the gun down and we can talk this out, my name is Nina, what's yours?"

The Cretan's response was now to produce a knife. How the hell did he draw that knife out? His right arm, had been used to keep a sort of hold on the poor man he was using as hostage, while his left hand was holding the gun right next to the clearly perturbed Drachman. Now, that right hand was holding a knife that was pressed against the poor hostage's throat.

'Damn. I told them not to bring weapons, so we wouldn't scare the people, but looking back on that, this is by far the most ridiculous situation ever . . .' Hei curses to himself. Rule through fear was less than ideal for most members worried about the future of Drachma, so having members of the military walking into 'shelters' doing 'charity' while still holding onto weapons was a mite bit unsettling.

"Shut up, shut up, SHUT UP!! Don't talk to me. You're with them, aren't you!? STAY AWAY!!"

Oh dear, this wasn't going to end well. Silly Cretan thought that Nina was affiliated with the military? Or something like that, but still not a good sign.

"I assure you, sir. This young lady is not connected to Drachman military in any way." The Xing-Drachman musters up all his knowledge of the Cretan language, trying to speak politely while making sure it stayed sensible. His pronounciation was a bit horrid, since he was still learning, but at least one could understand his meaning ... hopefully.

But all he got was a bunch of rabid curses and what seemed to be a snarling orders for him to step away and back. Well, in a more polite summary of his words, he would have told Hei to stand back or shoot. In his actual words, those statements were laden with a lot more curses and slanderous remarks and ... odd ramblings. Still, Hei complied, keeping his hands up and in the clear so as not to aggravate the poor soul even more and stepping back slowly a few paces, before stopping.

'This is going to be a long day' was a fleeting thought, coupled with sudden impulse to just forget his values and morals and just KILL the ass. But no, that wasn't conducive to the new regime. Killing could not be done on a whim. Public execution were wretched, corruption needed to be kept to a minimum. While the overthrow was violent, on their part, they had to keep things civil and orderly. Thus, no random murders from Hei anymore, though that binding command was starting to chafe with his psycopathic tendencies . . .

[Shula Brighton]

{BUMP}

[Guest]

Nina's eyes never left the man's, noticing his attention on her now instead of the crowd in general. The man she just met, Hei, attempted to speak to him as well, but this barely phased the man. All it did was seem to anger him more. Looked like it was going to be much harder to reach the man than she had hoped. Suddenly he set his eyes upon her again, locking with her won. She returned his gaze, standing unafraid with her hands raised and open. In his eyes she could see much pain and anger, perhaps even confusion. Yet she could see sadness in them, a deep loss. He was just like everyone else around here. He'd lost something. Be it his home or a loved one, perhaps both! The only way she could know was calm him down and get through to him. Now or never...

"Don't worry sir, I'm not with the military. I'm an average citizen, just like you. I'm not here to hurt you, nor are any of these men and women around you. Don't you think our country has seen enough bloodshed?" she said, attempting to reach into this man and pull out someone willing to talk, and more importantly put the weapon down. Well, both weapons. Where had he gotten that knife? Probably from the soldier I would assume. At this point it was up to how this man reacted, and strangely enough he reacted okay. Her words seemed to have struck home. Dropping the knife, letting the man go, and lowering the gun, he fell to his knees, tears streaming down his face. "No more bloodshed. No more," he said between sobs as some of the soldiers took him into custody. As they walked by he looked at her once again and said "I'm sorry, thank you." She nodded and replied "Stay strong comrade. Take care of him please." The second sentence was directed towards the soldiers taking him away. With a heavy sigh, she turned back to Hei and grinned. "Well, fun way to start a day huh?"

[Csilla Angelis]

{BUMP}

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