Miss Scarlet, in the bedroom, with Poison.

The beautiful but deadly creature sat down at her vanity, staring at her own reflection for a moment. ‘Perfection.’ Alena thought to herself. She slides open the drawer to her right, pulling out a piece of paper and a red pen. Most men were drawn to the color red, so it was only fitting to tempt those men with a thought that wasn’t there. It wasn’t long until she began writing a letter to man whom she could see being her closest ally.

“King,

I’m so excited that you now realize the truth about yourself and with that comes a lifetime of adventure in the palms of your hands.

It makes my heart sad to think that I haven’t seen your face in sometime, so please, come to my home and pay a visit. We have a lot to discuss, especially with the upcoming war that is lingering the back of everyone’s mind. Please hurry, I can’t be kept waiting long. It’s busy this time of year, especially with RIOTE planning on moving out soon.

After all, my love, I think it’s only fitting that the King should visit his Queen for dinner. Trust me, this is one meal that you won’t be regretting. I shall expect you in a day and a half. Until then, keep filling yourself up on the powers you’ve acquired.

My lips are craving a new toxin,

Alena

With that, the woman seals the envelope with her famous kiss and sprays it in an arousing scent from her own personal stash of perfumes. The homunculus walks down the stairs and hands it to one of her personal maids to be delivered instantly.

The suspect letter Zachariah Krow had received from his superior was no different from her usual modus operandi. As things seemed, it looked as if a break from his leave in Vaingloria was due; fitting, leaving one vainglory for another on the different side of the globe. As soon as he put the letter down, with a sigh, King opened up a hold-all, and threw the necessary items in there.

His 'essentials' were already sitting in his quarters in Drachma; trying to transport experimental weaponry from country-to-country in the middle of a war wasn't really the best of ideas, and smuggling was neither foolproof or cheap. Readying his best suit, King booked the first priority flight to Moscow he could, and took the plane in first class - arriving for his boss with anything less than the best would raise questions. Questions, and doubts. Neither of which were good.

As the plane crossed the ocean in its six-hour journey, King managed to catch four hours of sleep, or so; combined with an early night he'd gotten, trade-off for waking up at four o' clock in the morning, he wasn't too tired upon his waking up, whereupon he decided to ponder the subject of his employer. She wasn't cruel, to him, in the least; infact, in many a circumstance, she'd seemed to even take a shine to him; giving him a wide budget for any and all operations and equipment he required, and a wide enough berth when he so required in it, for most she'd be a humble guardsman's dream.

Not only that, she was attractive, seductive, and seemed to be more than interested in him; but she was more than met the eye, that was for sure. He'd seen her poison men, before, both figuratively and literally; even when he was a mortal, he knew that the pair of them were on par, strength-wise. He was just there to keep up appearances.

And now that he'd ascended to become one of her ilk and kin... things were... complicated. He'd heard a little of the origin of the homunculi, casually explained to him as she tried out a dress, or slipped on a new pair of heels, whilst he was turned the other way, cradling a shotgun. He had always been expendable; but now, in power, they were closer than ever before. It was irony, really; in some ways, King had almost thought her inhuman, despite being as kind as anyone else he could think of, to him. And now, he was just that, too.

Landing in Moscow was a simple enough affair; King's wallet was more than fat enough, lined both with Drachman rubles and Gelemortian dollars, so he decided to flag down a taxi, which he subsequently took to one of many of the Sekretar's manors, slipping on a pair of sunglasses as he stepped out into the harsh Drachman cold, the pale sunlight everything and anything but warm. It has always been that the sun was a lie in Moscow; no matter how brightly it shined, the air was either colder than a witch's tit, or lined with hail.

Save for the weather, however, which King even enjoyed sometimes when he acclimatised to it, Drachma was otherwise a beautiful country. He remembered the last time he'd been here; around ten months ago, before he returned on leave to get some time to calm down in Vaingloria. Before... before that had happened. It seemed like an eternity ago, now, but it was all so vivid, still.

Rubbing his nose with a curled finger, overcoat billowing and swaying in the rather harsh wind of that particular day, King chuckled, grasped his luggage, and walked towards the grand foyer of the mansion.

With a grin, he pushed open the doors, and slipped inside; so many memories. He hadn't worked for Alena for that long, but this manor still held many a moment he was content with reminiscing to. He looked over at one of the maids, and smiled uncannily, folding up his luggage and setting it down. "'Morning," He muttered quickly, sighing. It was cold out. "I'm here to see Miss Alena...?"

He hoped he'd be graced with her presence soon enough. The look of confusion he was receiving from the - hopefully new - maid wasn't really enough to satisfy his confidence as he scratched the back of his head of grey-white hair, and let the colour fade back into his face.

Overall, Alena was pretty easy to please when people did as they were told. It made life that much easier for the beautiful woman. During the day she served as the leader of this grand country, while as night she’d transform herself into a mysterious sexual being that would storm the clubs and disguise her appearance through various methods. She wasn’t afraid of many people in this world, but it was always nice to have someone to protector. Even if she was a maneater at times, deep down she cared for a few selected with her whole heart. The men for the most part were extremely attractive, muscular, and had a dangerous hint in their eyes. First there was Pride, followed by Greed, and now Gluttony. However there was something far different with Gluttony than the others. There seemed to be a connection that was far different than those previous.

She was busy in her room, trying on countless of dresses that arrived from Amestris. She quickly makes a mental note about stopping by and making a personal appointment with her dressmaker. She found a simple tight fitting floor length dress that hung over one shoulder appealing. Men were drawn to red, not that she needed the attention, but to make a point.

It would be anytime before King made his way into her mansion, so made sure to look her absolute finest. She tippy toes over towards her vanity, putting on basic foundation and eyeliner. Diamond earrings and lastly her infamous red lipstick. She stares into the mirror for minutes, observing every inch of her flawless features.

Knock, Knock

A petite, rather cute maid shuffles into the bedroom and comes to her side. “Miss Alena, the preparations have been taken care of. I’ll make sure that Mister King is made as home as soon as he comes inside the door.” Her voice was meek and pleasant to the fair ones ears and she smiles in return. The maid scurries out of the bedroom and goes on her with her daily routines.

Alena glances over her shoulder at the photo frame next to her bed stand. It was empty and she couldn’t help but have a moment of being a girl. She gently makes her way from the vanity over towards the bedside and grabs hold of the frame. The girl pulls it up closer to her chest and lets out a sigh. She just wants a man to be in the picture, to take unconditional care of her. Before she realizes it, she awakens a few hours later. He was here. His scent was so desirable, that it made her craving for his lips even more appealing.

His voice echoes throughout the hallway as he greets the new maid with a shiver. "I'm here to see Miss Alena...?" Kings voice was so refreshing to hear and it made her grin quickly.

“Well, it took you long enough.” Vanity was grinning as she walks down the grand staircase towards her guest for the day. “I was beginning to think you weren’t coming, King. After all, it’s not fun to keep a lady waiting.” Alena extends her arms for a warm embrace before greeting him with a proper kiss on his right cheek. They weren’t smooth, the light fuzz tickles her lips as she breaks away from the man. “Seriously, welcome back home.” She nudges him in his shoulder before taking his arm and leading him down the hallway towards the study.

“Well, it took you long enough.” King's head snapped towards the source of the noise; ah. Miss Alena, descending the stairs, as beautiful and worthy of her title of vainglory as ever. Things seemed to make so much more sense in the bigger picture when King just let himself... think. Realising this would probably prompt a response - ideally an apology - the homunculus jumped back into the conversation, scratching the back of his head in anxiety.

"I... uh..." He smiled up at her. Of course. One word would suffice. The one thing she couldn't really influence in the city, the one thing that he could reason for his being 'late'. A little in-joke, too. She'd take it the right way - he hadn't ever known her not to take something in this vein the right way. Just a little casual remark. "Traffic."

“I was beginning to think you weren’t coming, King. After all, it’s not fun to keep a lady waiting.” Gluttony's brow furrowed, and he sighed, rubbing his forehead with the edge of a leather-clad hand. The maids had been, for the most part, ignored, now. He scratched the back of his neck once more, and moved into the embrace with her, exhaling over his shoulder and letting a slow, calm explanation formulate itself and spill forth from his mouth.

"My brother," He sighed, the expression upon his pale face dropping some more. From Vaingloria to Moscow... he wasn't exactly going to score himself an incredible tan, was he? "I'm sorry. The doctors are saying he'll wake up soon," That brief explanation should be enough. Alena already knew of her brother's state; she was supportive as ever, and at the drop of a hat, she'd offer to have him transferred here and take care of him alone. But... no. Every single time, King would decline. He didn't want him to wake up in unfamiliar territory; in a country he didn't know, with doctors he'd never met running test after test on him. "It's good news, of course, just... keeping me on my toes, is all,"

With that, he felt her lips brush his cheek, the distinctive red gloss stroking his bristly fibres of stubble. A chuckle as she did so, and King pulled her further into the embrace, letting himself acclimatise properly with a smile. Vaingloria was all well and good... but, really, this was his home. He belonged at his brother's bedside, of course, but this mansion was far too familiar to simply leave behind. “Seriously, welcome back home.” King nodded, slowly, as she confirmed everything running through his mind. This was his home.

"Good to be back," He muttered as they broke the embrace, releasing a sigh once more as she began to walk him down to the study. Alena had always been a business-oriented woman in reality. "I trust my equipment's where I left it, da?" Another low, rumbling chuckle as he stroked the makings of a beard upon his cheeks. "And, hopefully, my razor, too," He could do with a shave to get him into the swing of things, wake him up after that less-than-enjoyable flight. So... mediocre. Of course, he wouldn't say anything to Vanity; he knew she'd try and correct it in some manner, whereas King was of a far different mentality: simply enough, 'live and let live'. Unless someone shot him.

Drachman was such a beautiful language, and one that his linguistic skill in fluctuated dependent on his current situation. It usually took him a couple of days to truly get to grips with his former fluency; and a break like the nine-ten month one he'd just had would leave him a... little rustier than usual. He hadn't seen Alena in just a year, and he was anxious to catch up on what had happened, what he'd missed - and far more importantly, what she wanted him to do.

Reaching the door of her study, King took the initiative, and pushed it open, gesturing for her to enter, ever the gentleman. After she was through, he slipped in, and shut the door behind him, still wheeling in his holdall. "A note, Miss Alena," He sighed, and scratched the back of his neck. "If you don't mind, I'd like to go back for a day or two when I receive the news of my brother's recovery," An anxious sigh. God, he really hoped this wouldn't piss her off - he didn't think it would, but a lot could change over ten months. Maybe she thought he was slacking, and wanted to start him off on a proper schedule. It wasn't imperative that he visited... but... "After all... I've just been waiting for over ten years, and it's something that... I don't want to miss."

He probably needed to remember his place. Nodding his head, King smiled and waved the issue away, waiting hopefully for a response in the form of an approval. "But... I guess you've got matters to discuss of a more... business-related nature, however, da?" Even now, he was slipping back into Drachman the way an old soldier slips back into his combat boots, or picks up his rifle and remembers all the days he's had with it. A feeling far too familiar to King.