Meanwhile.. somewhere in Drachma

Somewhere.. she was somewhere. A piece of paper scribbled in Cretan and the words were all in Drachman upon the signs. Luckily it was a matching game. The streets were scribbled like symbols on her paper. Hieroglyphs that were yet to be deciphered. They had to guide her somewhere. Like a treasure map.. but this one was.... odd. A man was at the x where she sought. A man like none other she'd met before. He was complicated.. more than most. In fact, he was immune to her it seemed. Her words had become useless on him and yet he had given her a place to stay. What was this? She didn't know really what to say. Words were foreign at the time. A kindness she wasn't used to and the reasons of it unknown. He didn't talk much to her, but his eyes spoke everything he wanted to say. It was as if she had to trace the words like connect the dots through his soul's windows. She had become defenseless. Normal and mortal. Words closely related and words she never thought she would relate to herself.

What about him had made him special? Who did he think he was? Who WAS he? The thoughts in her mind were incapable of understanding. Her whole brain was speaking a different language she didn't understand. Perhaps one day, she would understand. For now, she was being led in the dark and all her eyes could see were the fakeness of what she had felt in the past. Right now though, she felt naked. He somehow had her down to her raw entity, not the gussied up flamboyance she had become. He saw right through the act and in a moment of weakness she had become attached. So quickly. Like a wild animal; intrigued.

Her feet crunched in the snow and she shivered. A place to stay. Her friend would probably be mad about her cockiness. She'd lost something dear and now she had to move on top of it all. She felt pathetic, useless with an odd perspective. She'd actually lost a battle. That had never happened. She could take out the city defenses and burn almost everything, but a single man had defeated her. Why didn't he just kill her? Why couldn't she stop once she started. Pain sank into her heart. Why did she even care? Was this guilt? Remorse? So many questions that buzzed around her skull with little to no answers. Her eyes looked upwards upon a building. Cement below, high buildings above. It was confusing to know whether she was there or not. Her eyes fell to her right hand, staring at the words to see if she had the address right. It seemed legitimate. The shapes matched, but she didn't know what it looked like. What if it was a trap?

Her body disagreed and kept walking to the old apartment complex. Up the stairs, through the hall and up more stairs. Floor 2, that's what the paper said, with an odd number following. She assumed that to be the apartment number. Not disagreeing with his notes, she kept her body en route and came upon the matching set of symbols. Nervousness flooded her body. What if this was wrong? Then a second thought- What did she have to lose? Her hand rose and she hesitated. A brief second thought of hesitation. Was she really doing this? Was she really accepting help from a stranger? This.. wasn't like her. A lump formed in her throat.. fear.. She was afraid of this man and yet, she was pulled to learn more about him. A simplistic urge of curiosity. She knocked twice and held her shaky hand there as if going to again. Instead she stood, frozen and staring at the door.

The apartment was something right out of the Victorian era from its furnishings to the curtains that hung from the windows to block out the light. Yet it was all so... modest. The grandeur did not overwhelm, did not scream elitist, did not separate him from the rest of the world. A young girl with raven hair and grey eyes was sitting on the rug by the dark fireplace reading a book as a raven pecked at its food in the corner by the windows. Zabulon stood tall and still, staring out at the empty snowy street with calm eyes that revealed nothing. His hands were clasped behind his back, no gloves hiding the tattoo that snaked along his right hand. He was wearing a simple, long-sleeved black button down shirt that was tucked into black dress pants with a belt about his middle. The only thing that may have seemed off were the slippers that were on his feet which did throw off the entire formal look so perfectly. With the smallest hint of a sigh, he turned away from the window and walked more into his living room, touching Svetlana's head gently as he passed by her on his way into the kitchen. The young girl looked up and smiled sweetly to him before going back to her book, the sound of a turning page following after him.

It was a strange serenity that had settled over his home and his life now that the campaign against Amestris was finished for the moment. They had retreated and come home with some losses, but nothing like the war that had happened on their very doorstep. He had not found the man responsible for stealing Marismo away, had not made him pay for her loss. For at this point, it was unlikely that she would ever return home alive, or not. He had certainly made plenty of those bastards pay for the damage they had caused his home and country, for the blood that they had stained the white snow with. He slowed as he came to the fridge, pulling out a few things to make a sandwich with which probably seemed so inelegant compared to his appearance. His long hair was tied back into a ponytail by a thin crimson ribbon though two long strands hung on either side of his face just in front of his ears. Yet even as he bent his head a bit to make his food, it did not drag in or anything. "Do you want anything Sveta?" He called, his deep voice almost seeming to echo through the apartment.

"No thank you! Isn't your friend moving in today?" Ah yes, Valeria Diablos. She was indeed joining them today. For once, the corners of his mouth tilted upwards ever so slightly, giving the barest hint of a smile. It almost seemed strange upon his normally impassive features, but it was certainly there. "Yes, she is. I hope she has not gotten lost-" Knock. Knock. His hands paused as he was about to cut his sandwich in half, the smile slipping away as easily as it had come. "I'll get it!" Svetlana called from the other room, the knife sliding through the bread and meat easily as he finished up his work. The young girl bounced up to the door and unlocked it, turning the knob before it swung open to reveal Valeria standing over her. "Hello Valeria, come on in. Zabulon is just making himself lunch." She spoke brightly in fluent Cretan, though she still possessed a Drachman accent nonetheless.

Zabulon carried his plate out with his lunch so he stood in the doorway, staring at the open door with his usual unreadable expression. "I am relieved to see you found the place alright." He murmured softly, his brows knitting in the slightest as he looked her over. Something was wrong. Emotionally and physically. He stepped forward and placed his plate down on the kitchen table, his strides long so he reached her within a few seconds. "What is wrong?" He asked her quietly as Sveta moved aside with a soft hum in her throat, returning to her book as the adults had their time.

"Hello Valeria, come on in. Zabulon is just making himself lunch."
That little girl. Valeria couldn't help but smile. For some reason, the woman who embodied revenge, had a weak spot for children. She was an adorable girl too, with dark locks who could easily pass as Zabulon's real child, but what she? It made her wonder. Her own violet eyes gave Svetlana a kind smile before she lowered her hand and rested it at her side. One arm hidden in the slits between buttons of her jacket.

Not long after, Zabulon had appeared with a sandwich upon a plate. A moment of curiosity and she wondered what he was eating. It looked kind of good, but then again, Val found a lot of food looked good and tasty. "I am relieved to see you found the place alright."

"Yes, thank you." She nodded, watching his expression change. He was thinking about something. Just as she went to ask, he spoke the exact words to her. She was silenced. Her knuckles white and her face drained a bit.

"What is wrong?"

She was frozen. Violet eyes dilated and her whites were widened to saucers on her face. How did he know? Normally she would be unresponsive and laugh it off- but this time. Something was different. She shook a bit in the surprise, blushing fervently and looking down. As if it were a hidden action, she shifted her wrist more into her jacket. Maintain the dignity, act like her hand WASN'T chopped off. Let alone by a man she thought she'd idolized and now.. she didn't know anymore. She couldn't even think about what had happened. During the battle everything had been so clear, but now.. she didn't know what she wanted. What did she need? Who could she trust? Most people didn't know of her loss, not yet. Not even Adry. He'd just get pissed at her. She was tired of it. He was always mad at her no matter what she did and now.. he vanished.

Her face was downcast, as if something far more interesting was on her snow boots. Concentrate. She had to gather herself together. Turning her eyes back up, the hidden emotions were poorly pushed back. "It's nothing. I'm fine." She lied blatantly. "I just.. haven't slept in a couple of days." Which was actually not a lie. No wonder she felt so.. weird. It must have been the fatigue getting to her. It had nothing to do with this man. Yet as she opened her eyes to look at him, she felt instantly guilty and her heart became heavy. Resisting the urge to bite her lip, she coughed and straightened her jacket with her right hand before smiling softly at him, half-assed as it was. He'd find out eventually.. wouldn't he? Why did she want to hide it? Like a child that had done something wrong, she was trying to lie to the authority. Oh well, maybe he'd buy it, he probably wouldn't.

What WAS wrong? Other than her missing hand? There was something more she couldn't place- like an emptiness in her heart. Something was off about herself. She didn't feel like manipulating.. she didn't feel like killing or fighting. She felt the urge to just.. cry. And cry the night away at that. Why did the whole thing bother her so much? It was as if something had been told to her and she never noticed. That feeling had never been there before and she disliked it, but it sat like a thorn in her side. Trying to reinforce her lie, she rubbed sleepily at her eye with her one hand, the other stiffly shoved in her jacket.

Svetlana couldn't help but glance from her book as she could sense a rising tension coming from their direction. She noticed how the woman shifted her one arm so strangely, but she said nothing as she got up and took her book with her to her bedroom, closing the door quietly as Zabulon stared at her intently. His question had shaken her, this he could tell though his expression did not change. His brows remained furrowed even as his crimson eyes looked over her face down along her body as if to try to judge for himself. No, it was all in her face, and she was trying to hide it. What had happened during the war? Something had to have happened to have made her this way and he wanted to know what it was. She was one of his subordinates, and thus he was responsible for her. But it was beyond just that, she was also... a friend. Yes, he believed he could say that for her. Or was it a matter that she could not talk to him about? He had to wonder since she was being so... distant. She seemed like a lost dog that did not know where to go even though she had found her way to what would be her new home.

He reached around her as she lowered her gaze away from him, closing the door softly behind her. He had heard Sveta leave, but did not turn away from his more pressing concern. His back straightened slowly as he stood over her, his brows slowly relaxing as he appeared more neutral per normal. Perhaps his being intense was not helping her any. He had been told that he could be quite intimidating without meaning to be, although he did not quite understand why. "It's nothing. I'm fine." Lie. Why was she lying? "I just.. haven't slept in a couple of days." His lips tightened in the smallest motion, lowering his gaze as he turned to walk back towards the kitchen for his plate of food. He was quiet as he weighed her words and how he should respond. Most people did not respond to being called out on their lie, and if the matter was truly that sensitive to her then maybe he should not be blunt. When he glanced back at her as he picked up his plate, he saw how she tried to play it off with a soft little smile. He noticed how she held her left arm so stiffly by her side, but his expression did not change.

"If you are tired then you may rest here, this is your home now." He finally spoke, rippling the silence away towards the outer edges of the room as he gestured for her to sit down on the chairs or couch. "Is there something wrong with your left arm?" He asked as he sat down in his mahogany wing chair with burgundy cushioning. "Also, do you have anything else with you that you need to bring here?" She was traveling awful light for moving in. Unless.... She had nothing like he had all those years ago when she had taken him in.

Valeria avoided eye contact. SO conflicted inside. Why had she lied to him? It was stupid and he was going to find out. She was just- afraid? She was afraid of being yelled at more. It was all she had ever been used to. Even before her parents died they yelled and screamed at her. She was the constant punching bag and there were no good times to go with the bad times. Not that she could recall anymore. A silent sigh from her. It was odd, but once in a while she just wished to be normal, to have had an average life.. to not be a murderer. Her tally had grown with the war. In the moment she had not only killed those men.. she brutalized them. As if some sort of monster inside her lived to devour everything.

It seemed only when she was around Zabulon she second guessed herself. He brought what some might think of 'good' in her to the surface. A good influence, bah- Why was she hanging out with him? What had made her move in with him? Why did she keep coming to the same questions? The words simply swished in circles as if her brain was nearly full of water. Each second seemed to cause ripples of thoughts that slowly stirred into the whirlpool of never-ending thoughts. Her mind was in the dredges of a dying hurricane. The pieces of driftwood were once her ideology and the only standing masts were the foundation of her morals. So confusing. This deep thinking was giving her a headache.

Her moved his hand and for a second she feared the worst. Yet he simply shut the door and the looked at her almost oddly. Well.. it was oddly for him. He turned and walked away, leaving her by herself in the room for a minute and in that second she would have rathered being yelled at. She didn't like to be alone. That made her think twice. What? Did she have some sort of abandonment issues now? Or maybe they had always been that way? Maybe it was more akin to neglect? Ugh she didn't want to think about that right now.

Her eyes surveyed the well-decorated apartment. It had a neat vintage look to it, that made her feel almost instantly at home, except for the fact there were people here that she was not used to living with. His footsteps, though they were light attracted her eyes once again. "If you are tired then you may rest here, this is your home now." His hand motioned to the couches or chairs. Val wandered over to the aforementioned and sat down. It felt good, she'd been walking a while now. Almost instantly her feet started throbbing and true fatigue hit her.

"Is there something wrong with your left arm?" -Damn. After a second she shifted, as if awkwardly to try and avoid the question, but- what was the point? How did one say 'I lost my hand' in the most dignified way? It just.. screamed humiliating. "Also, do you have anything else with you that you need to bring here?" She was still hung up on the true. Her eyebrows furrowed and her nose scrunched a bit, thinking deeply. Why did it have to be something like rocket science? It wasn't that big of a deal- no it WAS a big deal. She'd lost her hand, her favorite hand. So now she was learning to do things with only one hand and it was rather difficult.

She sighed and looked up then down, then chewed on her lip. Impatient with herself and feeling all together awkward. "Yes." She spoke as if it explained everything. "But- it's nothing bad." Okay that was half a lie. "I didn't have anything worth saving. All I really own is some clothes and most of those won't help me here." She shrugged and shifted her small bag. When she weighed everything she had gained.. it seemed it was really borderline nothing. A few pieces of cloth, but it wasn't like she needed much more than clothes and food.

Zabulon finally took a bite of his sandwich then as they both settled so comfortably into the furniture, quietly musing to himself whether or not his food needed more mayo or not. It was only when he looked up that he saw how she had shifted in her chair which only made him wonder more what it was that was eating away at her so. Judging from her extremely thoughtful expres​sion(which he did find a little bit amusing) he must have hit the nail right on the head. So part of what was bothering her was her left arm, though he had to wonder if she would actually say what the cause was. Was he normally this concerned about someone? Sveta was a special case for she was his adoptive daughter, of course he would worry about her more than anyone else. But what of Valeria? Was it because he had so few friends to speak of that made him even more concerned for her? This certainly was not a concern that would follow protocol at all. He chewed slowly as he lowered his gaze back down to his plate for the moment, finally deciding that he did need more mayo on his lunch. He could deal with it later.

She had sighed again and this drew his attention even as she looked back down. "Yes." Yes.... to which question? "But- it's nothing bad." Again vague. Why was she being so vague? Did she truly not want him to know, or was this a matter of pride? Either way it was beginning to leave a foul taste in his mouth even around his tasty, except for the lack of mayo, lunch. He had not felt such frustration since he had been a child, and it was a foreign feeling to the grown him. Now how in the world had she managed to dredge up such emotions within him? "I didn't have anything worth saving. All I really own is some clothes and most of those won't help me here." That was definitely an answer to his second question. He nodded slowly as he swallowed his second bite, pausing a moment before he offered the plate to her. "Would you like the second half?" Perhaps it was an odd subject change, but it was how his brain was functioning at the moment. He was starting to lose his appetite due to his concern for her anyways. "If it was not that bad, you would not be so vague with your answers." He was not yelling at her or chastising her, he was pointing out the flaw in her answers and that was all. "If I am pressing too hard with my questions, you can tell me so and I will stop. I am merely concerned is all."

g Valeria continued to feel guilty at not telling him. Fear instead had taken her and she cowered at how he would react. Would she feel rage or pain? The pain would be FROM his rage. What was wrong with her? What did she care what a single man thought of her? He had no power over her and yet she felt almost attracted to him in the oddest of ways. Like he was some sort of man who mattered- but Val had none of those. They were all expendable weren't they? Usable and nothing more. However, she couldn't believe that. Truthfully if something had happened to Zabulon.. she wouldn't- she would actually mourn him. She could barely believe that. A simple man, a person who was not a freak of nature. Not a chimera, but a HUMAN being was actually relative to her.

A notion was carried where a plate was offered to her. Something of a deep moment put on halt while she looked at him a bit blankly. What was he going to say? "Would you like the second half?" A mental laughter erupted from her. Something she had expected to be major and stunning was a simple question. The answer was not so much. Did she dare take the sandwich and eat or did she stare at it like it would to a trick before her eyes? She rose her hand and shook her head, though her stomach grumbled. It seemed like she just felt overloaded by this- kindness. It was something foreign for her. To give without expecting something in return. Every other time she'd experienced such a gesture resulted in a demanded payment far over the bought merchandise. She felt her nose scrunch and more words were pushed over the plate.

"If it was not that bad, you would not be so vague with your answers." -Caught. It wasn't very long to be caught in a lie. She was so easily tangled by her own web woven by the black widow. Her eyes dipped and she grimaced. Her pride. It stung her more than the bite of venom. Slowly suffocating until she didn't know who she was anymore. A time of exploration laid ahead. Maybe that hole.. that eternal pain in her heart would ease away. Such an odd coincidence. Looking into the eyes of this man were not the ones of a hunter lusting its prey, but instead of a person meeting another person. A person who had been lost so far she didn't even know she was lost. Yet now... Now she had somewhere to leave her head. A new home to sleep and a new face to become adapted to. Technically two. She was sort of part of a fam- fam... She could feel her eyes water a bit. That wasn't the right word. That cursed word was nothing but fowl and a disgusting curse on these two individuals.

"If I am pressing too hard with my questions, you can tell me so and I will stop. I am merely concerned is all." A moment of silence, but at least she shook her head. It's not him. She knew that much. It wasn't him that she didn't want to say. It was a horrible shadowy monster called pride. So long it had gasped at her heart and strangled any humbleness and place arrogance at the throne instead. And with that, she lost some of the real her, both literally and metaphorically. She took a leaded breath and slid her hand closer as if imagining grabbing at her chest. "It's not that.. not you I mean. I- just." Pride so strong was trying to choke away any attempts she had at trying to explain.

After a slow breath, she looked at him once more. How silly she'd probably feel after what was done was done. Her hand slid out or rather didn't. Her arm pulling away from the jacket and rested on her lap. The disgusting remnant of her arm anyways. Ugh she couldn't even look at herself in the mirror anymore. She was incomplete. Hideous and gross. She almost held malice in her eyes towards her arm before she looked away at the couch and slumped into the fabric. Fight the crying, that would make her look even more useless and worthless. She needed to toughen up, after all. A half-assed laugh escaped her lips. "Ta-dah! I did a magic trick." She snorted at the dark humor. That was all she could manage though over the growing lump in her throat.

She had grown quiet, what was on her mind at this point? She almost seemed confused about his offer of food as she stared at it for a moment. He chewed quietly as he watched her, tilting his head ever so slightly in acknowledgement of her polite refusal. He thought that he heard a stomach growl, but perhaps it was his own longing for the rest of the sandwich that was in his hand. So he took another bite as the matter slipped back into oblivion. Ham sandwiches were a very tasty thing. He could see the extremely subtle changes in her expression as she sat there thinking, his words clearly spurring things that she was pondering extremely heavily. He almost thought that he saw tears shimmering in her crimson eyes, but he didn't want to make any assumptions. It could merely be a trick of the light.

But the deep breath she took, it made him pause and lower the plate into his lap, swallowing as he stared at her a bit intently. He didn't quite realize how heavily his gaze must weigh upon her. "It's not that.. not you I mean. I- just." He had triggered something. She was not getting any better here. He really needed to interact with his men more so he could get better at this and not potentially make his subordinates cry. He had never seen her like this before, not even back at the hospital when they'd first met. She certainly hadn't been this way before leaving for Amestris to infiltrate Briggs. She had been her usual self, or at least the mask had been usual enough. She seemed to collect herself for a moment before she finally slid her left arm free to reveal it to him, and that was what was different. She... didn't have a hand.

His brows knitted together ever so slightly as he looked at her stump for a moment before raising his eyes to meet her gaze. He was utterly not convinced by her laugh, instead placing his plate aside onto the table nearby. "Ta-dah! I did a magic trick." He leaned forward, but did not reach for her injury for he did not wish to be rude. So he merely looked her in the eye and asked very quietly, "Who did this?" It had been a matter of pride for her, and he knew how she hated doctors. Had some Amestrian dog marred her for life so? Had they taken another thing from his people, and especially one that he held close?

His eyes met hers. Eyes that were dfferent than her own. His eyes reflected a kindness, a gentleness and some care. Why was it her eyes were never gorgeous like that? In the end was she just a mesh of primped up parts. She wasn't real, not like him. He had an internal cleanliness that she couldn't hope to have. He was healthy and yet her soul was sick and withered. She'd come to realize that lately. She was dirty inside, so unclean. Despite bleeding so much, the filthiness remained. Inside her soul was the bitter trials of her past that were filled to the brim with disgusting memories. They were a part of her she had to accept. No matter how much she ran, who she was would always be there to tail her all the way.

"Who did this?" How did one respond to that? Did she lie and say someone else? Did she tell the truth? Was it time to manipulate words? Lack of words, maybe? She was uncertain how to continue. That man.. she hated him now. He'd used her and in her rage she mocked him. Arrogance got the better of her. She'd made a scene and for that she'd lost a part of her, permanently. It hurt. The blow to her pride, more than anything. A knife couldn't stab deeper than to what it had her pride. A bleeding gash to her self esteem and now, she just didn't know anymore. She didn't know who she was, why she was or what she was doing. The days of the past had been spent to give souls to the devil, but now... what of now? did she still believe that Satan was a just cause? Was she going to continue to trust the master of all lies? It was just.. so much.

"Ayden." She cursed the way his name felt like acid on her tongue. "I got cocky." She laughed narrowly at it. That was an understatement. She'd acted completely insane. Going in there and ravishing the whole city as if it were a child's toy. The end result was obvious. They'd won.. sort of, but was the cost worth it? She didn't even know anymore. "Anyways, I'm more worried about you. Are you okay?" She asked, changing the subject. For once Valeria didn't want to talk about herself. In fact she was disgusted by herself. She didn't want the memory to replay anymore, or the thoughts of her stub. She wanted something.. good or at least decent. Hell, they could talk about the sandwich or his shoes. Just.. something OTHER than that man and her hand.

Zabulon wasn't quite sure what he would DO exactly once he did find out who had done this to her. What he knew for sure though, was that he wanted to hunt down this person, and he wanted to give them a personal little... "gift." Turning a persons white blood cells against them could be such a long process, or such a short one. He would be sure that it would take a while, that there would be nothing else that they could do about it. He was growing very tired of how Amestrians were treating his people. He hadn't gotten enough pay back in the least bit when they had attacked Briggs, not NEARLY enough. So many people had been lost in the last war, and now.... there was this. She had been marred, permanently, by a member of their military. It was an inexcuseable offense, and for once, he decided that the reasons why did not matter enough. This Niko had escaped him unfortunately, perhaps whomever this was wouldn't be so lucky.

"Ayden." Ayden. A unique enough name, there wouldn't be many like it which meant it should be relatively easy to find once he delved into his sources. "I got cocky." Her laugh did not bring any reaction out of him. The corners of his lips only lowered in the slightest hint of a frown, but it was not a frown at her. He was already beginning to plan on what exactly he might do about this. "Do not worry about it. He said softly, sitting up slightly in his chair as his crimson eyes bore into her. "Anyways, I'm more worried about you. Are you okay?" ...what? He blinked, his eyebrows raising slightly in surprise at the question. It was a question he had not expected in the least bit, and certainly wasn't prepared for. So he sighed lightly and picked up the plate, picking up his sandwich even though he was debating if he really wanted to take a bite anymore. He so rarely had any normal conversations with anyone, Sveta being one of the extreme few that he held ANY kind of conversation with at all. And even then, she was used to how he spoke. "I... am well." He began as he placed the sandwich back down, glancing towards Sveta's room which caused his hair to spill over one of his shoulders. "Drachma and Moscow still have much to fix since our last incursion with Amestris, but we have come along quite well with the repairs and whatnot." This.... this was pathetic. He couldn't even talk about anything that WASN'T work.

He suddenly thought of Marynia, of how she had teased him of being a workaholic. His lips tightened slightly as put the plate back down on the table near to him, his hands folding in his lap. He had to try again. Don't talk about work. "Svetlana is progressing well with her school work, though she seems to be a bit ahead of her class from what I've seen." But she didn't know the child. She probably didn't even know how she came to be living with him or where she exactly fit into his life. He... failed at interacting with other human beings. He did not learn this from his adoptive mother, he certainly didn't learn it from being on the streets. His gaze lowered to his lap, "I... apologize. I'm not very good at small talk."

Plate up, plate down. Plate up, plate down. What was WITH this? Valeria noticed the small details. Move the plate, shift, fold hands and try and look occupied at his lap. This man- didn't get out much, did he? Even though she was broken, she could see he was unsure, distant and almost walled off from her. A man isolated with his thoughts and it almost seemed as if he were in some sort of pain. Hopefully, she hadn't upset him? Her purple eyes searched, rummaged about the man's body, looking for some sort of answers. What WAS he thinking about. Even when he spoke, it seemed as if he didn't know how. How truly.. different. She wasn't sure how to act, herself. A man whom would go out of his way and accept a foreigner into his house. Her history was dreadful.. he was letting a serial murderer stay with himself and young daughter. Some people would take advantage of that...

"I.. am well. Drachma and Moscow still have much to fix since our last incursion with Amestris, but we have come along quite well with the repairs and whatnot. Svetlana is progressing well with her school work, though she seems to be a bit ahead of her class from what I've seen." Aa... Svetlana. That was his daughter, right? She was an adorable girl, but then again.. Val was biased on her opinion. She had always wanted a baby girl, but that just wasn't going to happen. If it weren't for the fact she was a complete stranger to the young lass, Val might have sought more time with her. A weak spot for children, she damned herself. He, however could only talk about his job or something work related. Then, he got upset about it. Val found it kind of cute.

Her eyes turned into gentle smiles as she laughed lightly. A shy spoken line that she'd never expect a man of his caliber to say. "I... apologize. I'm not very good at small talk." He was doing better than most people who'd experienced war. Her chest had been relieved at the knowledge he was okay. He hadn't been harmed and Svetlana was still around. Greatly pleased with this, she nodded at him. "You are kind of bad at it." She wouldn't lie to him. The man had invited her to stay there, after all. How could she repay him with lies. "But.. That just means you need more practice." Her mischievous grin always found its place upon her lips. "I'm certain you can get better with time." It was simply odd, how kind she felt towards the man. Sure he'd given a lot, but Valeria was used to it. This was different. He expected nothing in return, that she knew of. She didn't feel like killing him and she definitely didn't feel like trying to seduce him. It was foreign, odd.. she didn't know what to do. She didn't know how to react. Yet, it left her feeling almost.. good in the end.

When he raised his eyes briefly to meet her gaze, he saw the smiles that were hidden within them, the small laugh she gave not helping him feel any better about his weakness in conversations in the least bit. He was... embarrassed. He rarely got embarrassed. In fact, he hadn't been embarrassed for years. The last time might have been with his adoptive mother. "You are kind of bad at it." He would have expected nothing less of Valeria even if the line did sting. It was the truth, and it was best to not shirk away from it. Though it did warrant the rarest thing of all from him; the hint of a blush in those pale cheeks of his. "But.. That just means you need more practice." He cleared his throat and lowered his gaze back down into his lap, their appearance almost closed at the moment. Now who in the world would be willing to "practice" with him? He wasn't a very interesting man. He read, he enjoyed wine, he took care of his raven Olga, he spent time with Sveta, and.... he worked. What did he do in terms of "fun?" That other people might do and be able to share stories about? His knowledge and experience was in that of war and defense, not fun.

The blush had since faded from his features as he sighed lightly, the lids of his eyes revealing those blood red iris' that stared at her. "I'm certain you can get better with time." He leaned back into his chair and folded his hands in his lap, glancing to the door as Svetlana poked her head out, gesturing to the other half of the sandwich which she ran over and swiped with her little hands. She smiled and bowed shyly to both of them before tottering back into her room. "Perhaps." What else could he say? "I usually do not have time for such things. The ability to practice is very slim." Which was true. Most of his time was still spent trying to bring the city back together, as well as the country as a whole. He had generals to meet, soldiers to order about, paperwork to do, maps to study, technology departments to meet with regarding updated weaponry or defenses, and the list could just go on and on. Perhaps with have Valeria living with him, he would get to practice more.

Oh yes, while he was thinking about it. He pushed himself up from his chair, the motion quick, smooth, and rather precise. His back was tall as he looked to her, "I apologize we don't have enough bedrooms for all, but I guessed you would be more comfortable sharing a room with another girl. So you will be sharing Sveta's room. I hope you do not mind my assumption." His room was also his office, there was literally no room for another person in there. He was lucky to even have an apartment that had two bedrooms, or even as many rooms as it did. "We do have two beds in there. There is also only one bathroom." He began to walk towards the two bedrooms, his steps slow since his strides were so long.

Val yawned lightly. Mental exhaustion was the worst kind, but without her body tired as well, there would be no point in sleeping. Her mind wandered. She didn't exactly want to be alone, she was scared, terrified even. This was an unfamiliar place and her normal confidence had dwindled down to nothing. Her eyes feel to the couch fabric, which she pretended to be fascinated by. Her brow furrowed and she completely missed the blushing. Other things occupied her mind. Besides, she simply didn't feel like teasing him at the moment anyways. She kind of just wanted to be comforted, but that wasn't going to happen. This man didn't seem like a huggy type person.

"Perhaps. I usually do not have time for such things. The ability to practice is very slim." Well, that explained a lot. The reasons were applicable and easy. He didn't know how to speak to people because, well, he was a fighter. A lot of times that could mess with people, he was a human after all... "I apologize we don't have enough bedrooms for all, but I guessed you would be more comfortable sharing a room with another girl. So you will be sharing Sveta's room. I hope you do not mind my assumption." Valeria didn't look up, but she did not. An acknowledgement of him speaking while she had violet eyes deep in thought. "We do have two beds in there. There is also only one bathroom." Another nod. How could she word her thanks?

A charming smile as she could always manage was faulty a little. A slight shake, still from the trauma. She wouldn't admit to it, she wouldn't admit she was confused, lost. She was too strong for that. Or at least, that's what she always told herself. She'd been alone most of her life, no family and the only friend she had was a serial murderer. The man whom's venomous blood sat in her veins even then and made her shudder a bit from the sickness. He had.. the first time they met but in turn he was lacking a kidney. Had she really become a cannibal at some point? Nausea sat in. Ugh the feeling that she'd actually EATEN part of another person. What was wrong with her? Her face buried in the couch arm as her mind raced. More thoughts, regrets and wishes she couldn't help to get rid of.

At last she managed some words. "It's more than I'm used to." Her past houses? Usually hotel rooms, or some man's closet to hide her away. She never really had a 'home' since Esparia. The fact she was even allowed in the house was a gift enough... even if it WAS just an apartment. With rolling and angry thoughts in her head, she debated. She needed something to get her mind off of it. What could she bring the man to do though? It wasn't like she wanted much, just enough to preoccupy her mind. "Hey, Zabulon.. Do you want to go for a walk? Or something? Of course, with Sveta." Her eyes spoke of how she just didn't want to be alone and needed to occupy herself. Though, even if he said no, she could figure something else out.. likely.

He slowed to a stop for he noticed there was something very off in the atmosphere of the room. She was not alright. She was not responding with words, and there was a tension in the air. He slowly turned to face her fully as she still sat there on the couch, bent over so towards the arm of the chair. His expression was impassive as always as he strode back over to stand beside her, at a loss of what was proper to do since he wasn't sure what was wrong. Was it the loss of her hand? Was it something else? "It's more than I'm used to." He had to wrack his brain to think of what Svetlana would have told him when he was a child growing up when it came to people, but for the life of him, he truly wasn't sure there was even anything there to recall. He did not understand people like he might understand what was required to keep a country safe. You would think that maybe he could somehow shrink the broader perspective down into a single person, but the simple fact of the matter was that he could not.

"Hey, Zabulon.." "Yes?" He met her gaze as she finally looked up to him again, "Do you want to go for a walk? Or something? Of course, with Sveta." A walk? He glanced back towards the childs room, seemed to ponder something for a moment, then nodded as he turned back to her. "Of course." Was the simple answer to her request of him. The weather was not too harsh outside, and Sveta hadn't gotten a chance to wander about today except for going to the hospital for her checkup. Walking over to the bedroom door, he knocked on it twice before swinging it open, finding his adoptive daughter laying on the floor upon her stomach with her feet kicking back and forth as she read. The plate lay beside her with his half of the sandwich left untouched. "Yes Zabulon?" The young girl spoke as she looked up to him, immediately pushing herself up to a sitting position, her expression a match for his. They were such an odd pair. "Come, Valeria and I are going for a walk. You should come with." He murmured quietly in his native tongue, his deep voice lending itself to how quietly he spoke. Nodding once, young Sveta pushed herself up off of the ground and stood, pulling on her boots quickly before grabbing her jacket from her bed.

As his daughter left the room, they both turned to face their new housemate, Zabulon's foot falls giving a soft thud as he moved back towards the young woman. "Can we go to a bookstore? I need a new drawing book." She asked the man who was her father as she finished pulling her arm through her jacket, hurrying over to tug on the edge of his pant leg. His crimson gaze moved from Valeria to his daughter as he considered her request. She did love to draw, and she was good at it from what he could tell. It was his turn to nod once, "Yes." Sveta gave a small smile and ran towards the door to get Zabulon's jacket, though he was already moving to stand before Valeria. "Is there anything you need to buy?" She did say that she didn't really have anything of her own, so logically she would need to get some things.

"Of course." Was what she heard to her question. That was different. She'd expected an 'Wouldn't you rather' or an 'I'd like to do something else'. An of course was greatly accepted. Relief slid down her spine and Valeria smiled up at the man. A true smile, as slightly fractured as it remained. Broken pieces took longer to mend. Feeling a bit better already, she straightened herself and tucked her stub into a pocket. Sure she looked odd, but not nearly as much as she had with the stub up and about. She'd have to fix that appearance fault, so she knew. Otherwise, she wouldn't feel right ever again. A slow process that required her to find someone with the possible equipment first.

Violet followed them, as the man went to a room and spoke to the young girl. A language foreign that she didn't know well at all. She could hear his name and her own, so it was simply on her own assumption that she guessed he was inviting his daughter to join them. Nothing really lost in that conversation, so she assumed. Both walked away from the room and suddenly she understood words again. Back to Cretan, she was capable of speaking with them. A drawing book? That kind of made Valeria smile and jealous both at once. The two had a special bond.. something she'd likely never feel. The pain dispersed almost as quickly as it showed.

"Is there anything you need to buy?" Honestly? Of course she did, but she was tempted to lie about it. Old habits die hard, after all or something like that. She nodded, though. Her conscious had that kind of odd affect about her. Straightening to a standing position, she looked about the room and hummed off a sigh. "Aaa.. a few things, yes." Why did that feel good to say? The full truth. Stretching her legs, she realized just how tired she sort of was already. A walk couldn't hurt too much, though. As her legs carried her, she walked to the door and looked at them. "But, let's just try to enjoy ourselves a bit, yeh?" Her eyes were almost accusing Zabulon, but only in a playful manner. As if just playfully prodding about his lack of 'fun'. Not like she knew how to have 'clean' fun, really. No room for her to talk, but she would anyways, because if she didn't, no one would. With a gentle smile and a laugh, she grabbed the door and pulled it open.

Valeria seemed quite relieved at his simple answer to her request, and that was odd to him. Had she expected a different answer? WAS there another answer to her question? He clearly wasn't actually working today considering he had been told to take a day off, so he wasn't doing anything else except perhaps read or try to teach Sveta some more things that she might need in her life that she wouldn't learn in school. And then... she smiled up at him. Zabulon had never seen her smile like that to him, and he felt a warmth in his heart that was unfamiliar. It... was truly beautiful. Blinking twice, he realized now that he had been staring quite bewitched at her, noticing how she was now standing with her stub in her pocket. Ah, yes, Sveta... He had to check with his daughter.

Now, Zabulon appreciated both men and women the same. He did not prefer one sex to another, however, as one can imagine he did not understand or know how to act in terms of a relationship in the least bit. What he was noticing now as Sveta got his coat and Valeria was pondering an answer to his question, was the fact he hadn't thought of many people as truly beautiful like he had her moments before. His mother was beautiful, but she was his mother. Her beauty stemmed from both her physical form, the power she wielded, and the way she wielded it. Sveta was beautiful due to her innocence, as well as her physical appearance, intelligence, and maturity for one her age. But Valeria.... He had not encountered a "beauty" such as hers before, and this was intriguing to him. She began to hum as she came to a decision, "Aaa.. a few things, yes." He nodded slowly in acceptance as Sveta held up his coat to him, her height almost comical if it weren't so adorable next to his towering frame. "Thank you." "You're welcome." A brief exchange as he straightened up to push his arms through the black sleeves, his military coat already feeling warm inside his home.

"But, let's just try to enjoy ourselves a bit, yeh?" He blinked twice at that as he followed her to the door, holding his hand out to Sveta for her to take which she did without a word. Why... had she looked at him like that? He failed to notice how Sveta smirked beside him as they strode to the door frame to step through it, the trio certainly an odd trio, and yet... very befitting of each other.