Stahma Tarr is no one's fool (noonesfool) wrote in valarlogs, @ 2016-02-08 23:28:00 |
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Making enemies was not something that was new to Svetlana. Far from it. There was a reason Anatoly didn’t ask questions when she would show up in need of medical assistance. Her persistence and stubbornness were both necessary for the job, and it also meant she was known to ruffle feathers. Especially with the latest investigation. The second the bodies had shown up, Svetlana had known that she was going to have to be more careful than she usually was. Just because she had no professional dealings with the Tarr family as they didn’t deal in human trafficking didn’t mean she was unaware of their reputation. Even without Stahma’s presence within it, Svetlana would know that she was treading on dangerous grounds.
Especially since the bodies showing up was not the work of Stahma. No. The woman was too calculating for that.
It was another late night and while she knew that she should contact someone (really there were a number of people she could call that would show up), she didn’t. Mostly because her phone battery had died and she’d forgotten her portable battery pack. Stick to well lit sidewalks. That was the plan, at any rate.
As the Russian woman was walking, she made sure to keep her senses on alert. She listened for footsteps that shouldn’t be there, paid attention to shadows. There were three offshoots when it came to routes to her apartment. Never let it be said Svetlana was complicit in her safety. But there was only so much she could prepare for. Ever alert and aware of her surroundings, Svetlana winced as she felt something hit her over the head and blackness descend.
Only to come to. She tried to move only to gasp in pain and her head getting rammed against the wall. Oh this was fun. If they wanted to torture her for information, they were going to be disappointed as she had none. And she wouldn’t talk even if she did. And oh. Gunshot wound. In the stomach. This was going to be painful.
The instant those bodies had shown up, Stahma had known Datak had ordered it. She was seething at how idiotic the move was. It would have been easier to not make such a public spectacle of that, especially in America of all places. Had this occurred on the streets of Moscow, no one would have blinked an eye at it. But here in Orange County?
It was stupid, plain and simple. Datak was clearly not capable of thinking when his feathers got ruffled, and considering Stahma, the voice of reason in the family, wasn’t in Moscow currently, Datak was free to make these idiotic moves. It had only solidified some things that she’d begun to think about, and she’d come to a decision. Alak would be the first to be told, as was his right given Datak was his father.
But the move put Stahma on high guard. Would Datak think she herself had become a loose end? Who even knew, but Stahma would be ready, and she would make the first move if need be.
She was in her car being driven back to her home after a business meeting with some representatives of the Italian mob presence in the area. No one outside of Nikolai, Kenya and Alak were aware that Stahma’s appearance had changed. She wore a wig the same color and style as her hair had been before she’d changed. Colored contacts made her eyes dark brown, and a very careful blend of make up made her skin appear the normal color it had been instead of being pale white. She was gazing out the tinted window, debating calling Alak to see if he wanted to have lunch with her one of these days. That’s when she saw a woman she thought to be Svetlana getting hit over the head by someone.
For reasons she didn’t understand, Stahma told the driver to drive down the block, turn and park and to wait for her. She pulled out a gun that she had hidden in the car for her safety, then got out of the car and carefully headed towards where she’d seen Svetlana get assaulted. Then she heard a gunshot and she moved quickly, finding the alleyway and Svetlana having been shot. It didn’t take a genius to notice the assailant was from the Tarr family. And for as much as Stahma didn’t like guns, she was an excellent shot, and she shot the man in the shoulder of his gun hand, causing him to drop it.
“Leave her alone.” She ordered in clipped Russian as she moved closer. Stahma well knew what it would mean to leave this man alive, and she was more than prepared to kill him.
Hand pressed against the wound, Svetlana forced herself to sit up, gasping in pain, vision blurring. Blinking rapidly at the second gunshot, she braced for impact, only it wasn’t aimed for her and suddenly the gun dropped and….
Okay. She clearly was delirious from the pain and losing of blood. Because it sounded like Stahma of all people had come to her aide. Which was absurd. The only reason that would be would be if it was so the woman could kill her herself. Which admittedly, wasn’t so far from the realm of possibility. But she was struggling more to remain conscious at the moment than trying to make sense of what was happening and it was very hard to do.
As for the assailant, he had been acting on orders from Moscow, and so the fact that the wife of Datak had just shot him and told him to stand down?
“These orders come from above you.” He was holding his shoulder and not exactly happy at being shot as it hurt like a bitch, but the fact was, this wasn’t some low level sanctioned attack. It had come from Datak and like it or not for Stahma, he had the highest voice of authority.
Stahma didn’t have time to think about it, but she would later wonder why the hell she was doing this. But there was no time. Svetlana was bleeding and needed medical attention quickly, and Stahma wasn’t going to put up with this man’s snideness. Datak was making a huge mistake by giving these orders, anyone with a brain in their head would be able to see that.
“Then you can give him a message for me, errand boy,” she responded with some venom in her voice. And with that, she put two bullets in the man’s head and she sunk to the ground like a sack of potatoes. She ensured he was dead, before she then moved to Svetlana’s side, setting her gun down and helping to press a hand to the wound to stop the bleeding. With her other hand, she pulled out her phone and called her driver, telling him to come to the alley.
“I am going to help you,” she spoke to Svetlana. It seemed appropriate that she state that given their history. Oddly enough, her Russian was coming a bit difficult, and it seemed as though she had an accent when she spoke it now. No doubt a result of her speaking Castithan more fluently now. Next she texted Nikolai, telling him to come to the location quickly and dispose of the body.
The car pulled up and she looked at Svetlana. “Put your arm around my shoulders and I will help you to the car.” Stahma would carry her completely if she had to, but this was at least a start.
Stating what was happening was definitely a good thing because Svetlana would have recoiled away otherwise. Well no, she still moved to do just that. Because she could not think of any world or reason why Stahma would be helping her, despite what she said. It was too much for her brain to make sense of or even attempt to make sense of.
“This cannot be happening.”
The comment was mumbled weakly from pain and blood loss. Blinking rapidly to stay conscious, it wasn’t like Svetlana had too many options. Even if she called for an ambulance what was to say it would get there in time. And while she really didn’t care if she died while doing something worthwhile, it wasn’t like she was seeking it either. If this was her best chance at survival…
God why did it have to come down to trusting Stahma of all people?! She still didn’t know if she could trust her, she still didn’t. But she refused to be weak and that stubbornness was enough to get her to do as she was told so that she would hold as much of her own weight as she possibly could.
While this was also crazy to Stahma, she had some very specific reasons why she was helping Svetlana. The most obvious one being the fact she wasn’t going to let Datak kill her. Svetlana had unknowingly just stumbled into the middle of what would soon become a very bitter war between Stahma and Datak.
But there were other reasons as well. Stahma did admire Svetlana. Svetlana was a strong woman, and enjoyed a freedom that Stahma never had. Stahma had slowly come to realize, partly due to her dreams, that she was nothing more than a pawn in this world. Her entire life, she’d been a pawn for her father’s machinations. And then she’d been a pawn to Datak. She’d thought she’d always been the one in control when she’d purposefully become pregnant by Datak to foil her father’s plans for her. But Datak had used her as well because of her family name. And then there was the fact Svetlana had some similarities to Amanda Rosewater in her dreams.
“You are not the only one who has had that thought.” Because really, how was this happening? Other than the fact it had been put into motion because of Datak’s stupidity.
Taking on Svetlana’s weight, she helped her to the car. The driver opened the door for them and Stahma helped her inside, telling the driver to head for Svetlana’s place. Stahma would not risk taking her to her home in the event spies for Datak were there. Or worse yet, spies for Molokov. Once inside, Stahma grabbed her sweater and pressed it against Svetlana’s wound. Also knowing a doctor who was discreet and able to make house calls on the spur of the moment, Stahma put in a call and explained the situation. She told him to come quickly. Time was of the essence judging from the amount of blood Svetlana was losing.
Well, it wasn’t as if Stahma didn’t already know where she lived given the fact she had broken in. So there wasn’t like she needed to keep her home secret from the woman. Moving might be a necessity that she really wanted to avoid, but she supposed time would tell. Assuming she actually survived the night and this wasn’t some ploy on Stahma’s part. Who could tell with the woman. It wasn’t even paranoia, it was knowing how Stahma was.
Once in the car, Svetlana swallowed and tried to keep the bile down. She really did not like being this vulnerable in front of anyone, but Stahma most of all. That and she was struggling to remain conscious which was a much more difficult than it had any right being. It was also a battle she soon enough lost.
This also was not an ideal situation for Stahma, and yet it would lead to her making final decisions on things she’d been grappling with for a while. Stahma well knew how she appeared to people, how she appeared to Svetlana. It was partly a true visage, but Stahma truly didn’t want Svetlana to die under orders from Datak. It would simply create more problems, and Datak had already made a mess with those bodies.
She cursed when Svetlana lost consciousness, and she did everything she could to slow the flow of blood. Soon enough they were at Svetlana’s place and getting her inside. Luckily, the doctor arrived shortly after they did. He went to work while Stahma did whatever he needed her to do. The bullet was removed and the wound tended. He remained to monitor Svetlana’s condition.
Then it was merely a waiting game for Svetlana to wake up before the next step was determined.
It was a very strange sensation. Part of Svetlana seemed aware of what was going on even though she had lost consciousness. A part of her mind knew something was happening even though her body had shut down because the pain and blood loss had been too much. There wasn’t much she could do but that lingering sensation of confusion and something being wrong didn’t just vanish.
It took a few hours before Svetlana came to. And the first person she saw? Stahma.
“....so it wasn’t a messed up dream.”
Yes, of course she would make comment on it despite her voice being weak and the fact she was barely aware of things at the moment. But part of her had been convinced that it couldn’t actually have happened the way she remembered. But there Stahma was. What. The. Hell.
During the time it took Svetlana to regain consciousness, both Stahma and the doctor remained close to her. Stahma could have left at any time. She had no obligation to remain there, and yet she had. Perhaps she’d try to convince herself it was to ensure there wasn’t a second hit called out on Svetlana that night, but with Nikolai cleaning things up, that shouldn’t be a problem.
When Svetlana finally woke, Stahma looked at her. “Unfortunately not. Though it would be quite the messed up dream if it were.”
The doctor came back over. “How are you feeling?” He asked, intending to check Svetlana’s vitals, though he was first making a visual assessment. Then would come checking everything else.
Svetlana didn’t have a retort to the comment on how it would be a very messed up dream if it were a dream. Because it really would be and Svetlana was more than willing to be able to see that. This couldn’t be happening. There was no way that this could be happening. But even as she wanted to believe that fact, it was actually happening.
Then the doctor showed up. One she didn’t trust. Svetlana wasn’t fond of doctors on a good day and it took a lot to get her to be okay with it. She also knew she didn’t exactly have a say in the matter on what was going on. But she was wary and on edge, beyond the fact that she was in pain. That wasn’t enough to distract her.
“Fine.”
Seriously, this entire thing was crazy, yet there was some admiration for Svetlana that was keeping Stahma there. She let the doctor do his check, then instruct Svetlana to rest and not do anything too strenuous so the stitches didn’t rip or pull. With that done and a prescription for pain medication if she wanted or needed it was given, he had little need to stay there, so he gathered his things and left now that Svetlana seemed to be out of immediate danger.
Stahma probably should follow suit. She already knew she wasn’t welcome here, and she’d done all she could to ensure Svetlana didn’t die. Now she had a war to fight with her husband, and probably one to fight with her father as well, but she’d address Datak first. Though that was after she spoke with her son.
“It is good to see you are awake.” Stahma went for a somewhat neutral comment. She needn’t get into the details of Datak calling the hit. Though they possibly should address the elephant in the room of why Stahma had helped Svetlana. Lifting a hand, she brushed some hair from her face. However, she’d since washed the blood her hands while Svetlana was unconscious she’d completely forgotten about the makeup she wore on them. So of course, her hands were far too white than she normally should have been. It was obvious there was makeup involved since her arms were bare and a more natural color started a little above her wrists.
Svetlana watched as the doctor left, her entire body seemingly coiled and ready to jump at the slightest of provocation. It wasn’t like she could trust Stahma in the slightest. Nor was she about to take any pain medication, especially with said woman there. Like hell was she going to dull her senses when she was directly in harm’s way.
Even though said woman was the one who had insured that she hadn’t been killed. At that moment. Svetlana wasn’t entirely convinced that it wasn’t just so Stahma had the honour of destroying her herself.
“Why are you doing this?” And straight to the point. Because it was Svetlana. Though she was aware of the fact that it seemed there was something definitely off about the other woman. She’d think it was the pain making her see things, but no. This was Orange County, Stahma’s arms appearing ‘normal’ and then her hands seemingly white was perfectly normal. It just meant a dream thing.
Which was odd. Because Stahma’s father was Molokov and yet… “What’s your endgame?”
She would focus on that instead. Not that people ever just...explained their endgame but she was in too much pain to actually care about that. And she’d still be able to tell if the other woman was lying or not.
And there was the golden question. There seemed to be more than one reason why Stahma had done this, why she had helped Svetlana. She didn’t expect Svetlana to believe her answer, but she didn’t expect anything from her.
“I find myself admiring you.” It was the truth, and truth, as they say, was stranger than fiction. Stahma was even seeing traits in Svetlana that she saw in Amanda in her dreams and it was...disconcerting. She wasn’t certain she liked this feeling, but there was little she could do about it.
“As for my endgame, I do not fully know yet. I only know that my focus has shifted.” She wasn’t going to outright state that she was going to turn against her husband, but her endgame had definitely shifted. She’d come to North America to solidify alliances with the Italian mob and the cartels. Now she found herself wanting to keep those alliances for herself. She was going to tear herself away from Moscow entirely. Alak had been able to do it, though Stahma knew she was about to put herself in grave danger because of it.
Well… that was unexpected. And even through the haze of pain? Svetlana could tell that Stahma was telling the truth. That didn’t stop her from saying anything though. Because really? What the hell was happening here?
“You have got to be kidding me….” Yes. She was incredulous. She could tell there was no deception in what Stahma was saying but it was so absurd that she just didn’t know how to respond to that. Especially as she said she didn’t even know her endgame and that her focus had shifted.
“So. You have spent the better part of twenty years tearing my family apart, have broken into my apartment… and now you save me for… a reason you don’t know, claim to admire me and have had a change in focus.”
Was she hearing this correctly? It just… did not add up. “Would your white skin have something to do with that?” She knew that Orange County could change people, make them reevaluate. But twenty years of Stahma and her father targeting her family. It was rather difficult to comprehend.
The response was expected. Stahma was starting to change, but considering the world she came from, the life she led, change would not be welcomed easily. Or at all by certain people. But it was alright, she didn’t expect people to believe her or support her. Stahma felt like she was soon going to be alone, but knew it was her own fault. Kenya was dreaming, and Stahma dreaded that for obvious reasons. Alak was dreaming and she was dreading that.
What was that saying? You reap what you sow?
At the mention of the white skin, Stahma was at first confused, but then she looked at her hands. Well. That explained that question.
“In a way, yes. More that you have similarities to a woman in my dreams. Both of you are strong and enjoy a type of freedom I have never had. I do not expect you to believe it, but my dreams are changing me, and not simply physically.” Another truth. Though she also wasn’t going to outright tell Svetlana she wasn’t even human any longer. Nor was she going to show her what she truly looked like now.
Her new appearance was a very closely guarded secret because there were spies for her father everywhere.
Like Svetlana cared what Stahma actually looked like now? One of her friends was a vampire, another a time lord, another a woman who was out of time. So it wouldn’t be that shocking. She was more trying to figure out what the hell was happening in her life that somehow the woman who had destroyed her family suddenly admired her and had saved her life. Especially since, once again, Svetlana could see that Stahma was telling the truth.
Her head was seriously beginning to hurt from this.
“I see…”
Because what was there to really say? She was trying to process this but this was right up there on the list of things no one ever expected and she didn’t know what to make of it. At all.
Svetlana may not care, but Stahma did care about her appearance. Or moreso that certain specific people did not find out about it, and considering the majority of people in Orange County would think her to be weird at best, Stahma was going to maintain the illusion that she was human. She sort of needed to at this point in time.
Stahma also wasn’t one who explained her motivations in detail. She wasn’t going to go further into detail about why she admired Svetlana. After everything that had happened between them and their families in the past, Svetlana wouldn’t want to hear it. Stahma didn’t even know how to fully process her own feelings on the matter beyond admiring Svetlana in the same way she admired Amanda.
And now she was at a loss for what to say. Was there even anything more that needed to be said? Not that she could think of. And then she started to say something, but instead of speaking her now-accented Russian, a few words of Castithan crept out before she caught herself, shook her head slightly and had to focus on speaking Russian the same way she used to have to focus on speaking English.
“Now that you are awake, I shall leave you be.” Because that seemed like the logical thing to do. She should leave Svetlana’s home before things became unbearably awkward. She picked up her sweater that was soaked in Svetlana’s blood, bowed her head in the way her dream self did, and started to head for the door.
Stahma wasn’t the only one who was at a loss for things to say. Svetlana had no idea on what the hell was happening, and part of her was convinced that she was hearing things because of the pain. But she also knew that wasn’t the case. It was a very odd situation to be in and very confusing as well. Marvelous. Really and truly.
Part of her wanted to ask how the hell she knew Stahma wouldn’t target her, that she would leave her family alone now. But that meant prolonging the awkward air and honestly she was so tense and prepared to strike despite her injured state that she knew that wouldn’t be a good plan. It would just make her more tense.
“...Well. Thank you for not killing me when you had the chance.” Like it or not, Stahma did save her life when she had no reason to and she was more than aware that it would put her at odds with Datak. It didn’t mean she suddenly liked the woman or trusted her. But she knew the dynamics at play. So that would be all she would say on the matter. Once alone, then she would let herself try and process everything that had just happened.
At least for the time being, Stahma had far larger things to worry about than attempting to continue the feud with Svetlana. She had moves to make against Datak, and she had moves to make against her father. For there was no doubt in her mind that once she moved against Datak, her father would attempt to force her back into the place he’d forged for her years ago. But she would resist that. She didn’t wish to return to Moscow.
Pausing, she glanced over her shoulder at Svetlana and bowed her head. “You are welcome.” She then left, using the sweater to hide her hands as her driver opened the door for her. She got in and went about her way. A war had begun, both within her own family and within herself. Whatever it would mean for her and Svetlana in the future, she didn’t yet know. But that could be figured out later once the immediate struggle with Datak had cooled.