Vladimira walked along the streets of Russelgrad, throwing cautious looks over her shoulder periodically. She didn’t expect to find another hit squad lurking in the heart of Wintergold territory, but it [i]was[/i] a bustling city, hiding would be all too easy.

She made her way to a familiar bar that now served a double purpose as an information hub for the network of spies she’d set up beneath Lucania’s and her brother’s own. Those two could focus on the big Forsaken cities and Sicilian mansions, she was more interested in hearing what the local nerds up north were up to. If there was anyone who’d be in a position to offer things that would make a numerical inferiority irrelevant, it’d the the Gaens.

Or Wolfwater but sometimes you just had to have plasma rifles and power armor and she was tired of waiting for Stinger’s newly discovered science lab to dig something up.

Pushing her way into the Bitch’s Brew, her nose was greeted by the familiar stench of alcohol mixing with sweat and sex. Boozed up, sweaty sex in a bar run by the Mafia. She shook her head, at the very least people bothered to bathe on Ash, probably because of all the seawater and functioning showers in the old military bases, but the point still stood.

“Bartender!” She called above the din, making her way to the bar, the “new” bartender was a far cry from the old one, and had repeatedly tried to get a peek as payment before she’d gotten fed up and nailed him to the wall for 48 hours and smirked as the Castalia guards did nothing, she far outranked them after all. “Any news from little birds or grapevines?”

He started at her sudden entry, rushing over to pour a small glass of water and hurriedly answer, “Ah- no. Apologies. The Gaens still haven’t resolved power management issues and are still not ready to discuss pricing with your contacts. I’m sure if-” he stopped as she raised a hand.

“So, nothing’s changed, even after I sold them the supercapacitor schematics we found in Stinger? I might just have to go there myself, yeah.” She sighed, “Anything else? Anyone interesting stop by?”

He racked his brain, for a moment, giving Vladimira the impression she often got that the cogs might need a bit of oil, “Well, this one chick stopped by, seemed like your type. Nice hair, really red and stuff, not bad looking, seemed pretty nice, and smart.”

Raising an eyebrow, Vladimira nodded, downing the water and flipping a small coin onto the table, “Try not to sexually harass more people, mm’kay?” 

She stood, striding briskly to the door, cloak catching the air and billowing out behind her - she’d had it modified to do that, it never got old. Standing in the doorway she looked right, then left, then right again, and left, before catching sight of a flaming red mass of hair on a woman who seemed rather underdressed. She seemed familiar, but…

From in front of the redhaired woman came another person, a rather burly man who didn’t seem to care much about who he passed by, or even who he bumped into. One such person he bumped into was the red haired woman, prompting her to turn around and silently glare at his back, receiving neither apology nor even a second glance. 

That face. She knew that face. 

Vladimira stared at the back of the woman, who she clearly remembered carting across the wasteland. It wasn’t even a case of a lookalike, she could tell. Somehow she was alive.

Relief washed over her, accompanied by a few tears streaking their way down her cheeks. She’d been haunted by that failure for a year, and yet right there down the street was proof that, whatever her name was, she was [i]alive[/i]!

Brushing aside any traces of restraint she bolted after the woman, dodging pedestrians and vaulting over a wheelbarrow. Tomorrow she’d look back and nearly die of embarrassment she was sure, but right now she didn’t exactly care. “You’re alive!” She shouted as she neared her, actually jumping into the air and landing on the woman with a hug. 

It was all the woman—Evelina—could do to not fall on her ass as a supposed stranger came bolting towards her, tackling her in a powerful embrace. She had only just managed to turn around before the ashen haired stranger barrelled into her, and awkwardly returned the embrace even as the other buried her face in her neck. 

She hesitantly stroked the other woman’s back, not quite sure how to react to it all. “Of course I’m ali—” Something clicked, a memory from a year ago. Hair the colour of metal and ash, made of fine threads that seemed more metal in texture than actual hair. The muscular body underneath the clothes also did nothing to hide the identity of the stranger. “It’s you,” she whispered. “The one from… back then.” She smiled, fully committing to the embrace now, and wrapped both arms fully around her. “Yes, I’m alive. You don’t have to worry anymore,” she whispered, shutting out the world outside. Any and all onlookers didn’t matter right now. 

Vladimira withdrew slightly, staring at Evelina for a second. “B-but. You were…” She broke off, poking Evelina in the unusually… squishy breastbone, “You don’t seem to be an android. How are you alive? I carried your bod- well, you, for hours after that fight and you didn’t do a whole lot but look really dead.”

Evelina smiled, gently squeezing Vladimira before she drew away, taking Vladimira’s hands in her own. “Let’s find a place to sit, I’ll explain everything to you. It’s not quite a long story, but there’s enough.” She looks around, trying to spot some place that would offer a bit of shade—not that the sun actually bothered her—and would allow them to sit down. The result of her survey was her gently pulling Vladimira towards a small restaurant, and the few tables situated outside, under the shade of a linen overhang. 

Vladimira quirked an eyebrow, “A year’s gone by and you sound like an eighty year old retired adventurer taking the young whippersnapper aside to recount her escapades.” She snarked, nonetheless taking a seat as she shielded her eyes from the sun. “So, what’ve you been up to this past year? And why are you only back now? Wintergold’s set up a miniature empire of its own after the fall and/or capture of Russel. Surely it didn’t take you a year to wake up?” 

Evelina sat down, brushing a stray lock of fiery hair out of her face, smiling gently at her once-savior. “Not quite. You see… I was wounded, seriously. Wherever you left me, an old couple, both of whom were doctors, found me and took me in. They had noticed I was still alive, and so decided that they would try to help me. Or rather, their—and my—oath compelled them to.” She tilted her head, looking quizzically at the ashen haired woman. “In case you don’t know, we doctors take an oath to help whoever is in need… So basically, they take me in and patch me up, doing everything in their power to keep me alive.” An almost nostalgic look passes over her face, disappearing just as quickly. 

She reached for her shirt and pulled it up, revealing a long line of pale skin stretching from her navel to her hip, as well as exposing her toned belly and slightly visible abs. “This is the remains of the wound. It’s surprising that it healed up as well as it did.” She tucked her shirt back in, covering her abdomen and scar. “It took me about two months for it to heal well enough that they were certain it wouldn’t open up again, and that’s when I started my rehabilitation training.” She smiled then, gesturing at herself. “The results are as you see. A fair bit more lean than I was before. That took me a good month or so, before I could walk normally and such. After that, I was off to Parkland and to my parents. As you said, things were happening, and Motum Diversum were in a, pardon the language, pile of shit.” She grimaced. “I had to get my parents out. We relocated to Laguna where they currently live, and have for the past nine months. So about a month ago, when I deemed that my parents were in a good position, I went out on my own... “ Her cheeks flush at this point, her unusually pale skin—for the people on Dust—going pink with embarrassment. “I had someone I needed to find, which is why I’m here.” 

Vladimira nodded, taking in the story before replying, “Lucania Castalia, head of the part of the Castalia family co-running Wintergold. To my knowledge, she’s not here right now.”

Evelina’s face is a mix of surprise and, if one noticed, a hint of sadness. “How’d you know she was the one I was looking for?” She blurts out before being able to stop herself. “I mean… Just… how?” 

Vladimira raised an eyebrow at what seemed slight sadness, but put it aside for the moment, “There were three options as far as I saw it. One, just hope that the prospective girlfriend of one of the most powerful people on Dust suddenly disappearing wouldn’t end poorly. Tell her that said girlfriend had been killed by some Immortal turned Hollow or something, and hope that didn’t end even more poorly. Or tell her that said girlfriend had gone on a journey of some sort, and left her this as a memento while she was gone. Exact words I told her were, ‘something about not really needing it but hoping it’d help keep you safe’, she wasn’t exactly happy.” Vladimira fished around in her pockets for a moment before she landed upon the 10mm SIG Lucania had let drop to the floor a year ago, “I tried.” She sighed, flipping the gun in her hand so she was holding the barrel with the grip extended towards Evelina, “I kept it as a memento for myself, but now that you’re, well, okay you weren’t dead but you know what I mean.” She stumbled over her speech some more, “Fuck English. Just take it please before I make things awkward.”

“So that’s where it went,” she mused, gently grasping the handle of the gun, rolling the familiar weight in her hands. Almost by reflex she checked the magazine, finding it full, and shut it back in with a satisfying click. She let it rest in her lap, then, focusing on Vladimira once more. “So Lucania thinks that I left her?” She cringed. “I think I have an idea how that turned out… But maybe.” She glanced down at the gun. “Maybe she’ll believe me… I guess? If I tell her the truth, that is.” She blew air through her nose, still-bespeckled eyes going skywards. “You said she’s not here? When’ll she be back?” 

“She should be back fairly soon actually, maybe even this time tomorrow. I was going to meet her myself to discuss matters pertaining to the Hedons, but as it turns out I have business with the nerds up north, apparently selling them supercapacitor schematics isn’t enough for a certain project, and I was wondering if you could keep an eye on her for a while? It’ll give you a little while to figure out how she’s changed and how to approach things. I’m hesitant to leave her unguarded because my little birds are telling me someone’s going to try something again after the recent purchase, and you’re just as capable of stopping that as I am. Not to mention if you [i]do[/i] want to reunite with her, it’d be excellent context, you could tell her the gun was for protecting her after all and everything.”

As hopelessly romantic, and stupid, as the idea sounded, it was one that Evelina liked. She chuckled at it, covering her mouth with a surprisingly dainty hand. “I will admit, it’s a nice idea.” She smiled, tapping the gun with a nail. “I’ll take your advice. It’s… a nice sentiment, if nothing else.”