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The Beginning of Always

Summary:

Kal'tsit knows that Popukar needs to be taught how to control her powers, and she's got the perfect ex-mafiosa in mind for the job.

Notes:

(See the end of the work for notes.)

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A few hours after sending Projekt Red out for an errand, Kal’tsit came to find her gently kneading the tail of one problematic Siracusan operator. “You’ve been ignoring my intercom messages.”

“Ma dai!” Lappland had the handle of a large door in a deathgrip, as if Red would drag her off the instant she let go. Her ears and tail were fluffed as large as possible, and the look in her eyes was somewhere between anxiety and euphoria. “Training little ones isn’t part of my duties, zietta. No, grazie .

“Interesting term. Did you know Projekt Red can disassemble a body in as little as five minutes?”

“I don’t think I would be a good fit, ma’am.” Lappland’s tone hard shifted from sarcastic to respectful, some of the effect lost due to the underpinning whine. “Unless you want me to teach them how to make sweets.”

“At least watch this.” Kal’tsit sighed, holding up a datapad. Lappland’s eyes shifted as the video began. A recorded training session of Op Reserve A6 played out. Despite being primarily ex-civilians and definitely the most misfit of the reserve teams, they all did their individual and group training properly. 

As it went on, Lappland’s eyes began to narrow, the fur on her ears and tail went from fully fluffed to flat, and any signs of the easy, half-smile she always had faded completely. “Can I convince you to reconsider?” Kal’tsit asked.

“Who did that to her?” Her voice was even, still as a calm lake. Dangerous beyond belief.

“The facility her parents sold her to.”

“Did you find them?”

“Of course.”

“Are they still alive?”

“Of course not.” Dr. Kal’tsit cleared her throat. “I think you can see why I asked you. Your fighting styles are very similar in spirit, and with your arts…”

“Sì, I get it.” Lappland went silent, turning her thoughts over while Red finally let go of her tail after a look from Dr. Kal’tsit. “Alright, fine. I will at least sit in on their next training session.”

“That’s all I ask.”

To the confusion of many, Lappland had always been good with children. Years ago in Siracusa she filled her downtime with making sweets, and the children would always flock to her calling “Sorella, sorella, what are you making today?” before their parents, realizing just whose daughter this “sorella” was, pulled them away. Lappland enjoyed the adoration and how their little eyes lit up for every sweet shared and thing learned. Even now within Rhodes Island any hint of her gallows humor, her bloodlust, the myriad changes brought by infection and abandonment were carefully tucked away when children were around. 

Why exactly Dr. Kal’tsit had paid close enough attention to her to learn this, Lappland had no idea. But there she was, in one of the training rooms already doing some light stretches by the time A6 walked in all because of a child that hit too close to home. Their leader looked startled at Lappland’s presence. 

Orchid pulled out a small pad to check something. Her mouth quirked ever so slightly as her eyes dashed back and forth across the screen. At last she looked up to the lupo woman still lazily stretching before her. “I’m sorry Lappland, I wasn’t informed ahead of time that we would be having a joint training session with you.”

Lappland stopped stretching as she laughed. “Doctor’s orders, sadly.” Orchid’s speech was casual, and though her body language was wary she appeared on the surface to be emotionally open. But Lappland used to be a mafioso, she’d read Orchid’s file, she saw the careful ways Orchid leaned into her mannerisms to hide what she was actually thinking, a familiar trick. You didn’t get to the top in the fashion industry without learning to hide your real thoughts. This woman was livid. “I won't take too much of your time. Just a little sparring. With live weapons, of course.” A6 had three separate reactions. Three were dismayed, one was excited, and the last, the one that Lappland was most interested in, was incredibly anxious.

“With live-”

“Of course, there will be a medic on hand, and Dr. Kal’tsit will be observing.” She gestured to the observation deck where both Kal’tsit and Ansel stood. “Figurati! It will all be fine. Now that that’s settled!” Lappland pointed to Orchid. “You’re exempt, go to the observation deck. It’s a team leader’s duty to analyze their squadron after all.”

It would be a one-on-one spar Lappland explained. She picked Spot first. “You’re a former soldier, yes?”

“Yeah.”

“Bene! This will be simple then.” She wasn’t the fastest person Spot had ever seen, but the way she approached felt so… empty, dreamlike, without any threat of violence, he wasn’t prepared for her hand to wrap around the back of his head and pull it violently into his own shield. “You don’t want to be here! That attitude will get your friends killed one day, remember that.”

“You broke my nose!” He said but it came out with significantly more “b” sounds than should have been there. “You broke my fucking nose!” Lappland remembered a number of times waterboarding other mafioso who sounded remarkably like Spot did then.

“Eccome, I told you live weapons. This is nothing compared to what I could have done.” Spot fell silent after that and retreated to the observation deck for treatment. To the observers the next couple matches passed like a blur. Lappland caught Catepult’s grenade mid air and threw it right back at her, admonishing her to not give her enemy time to think and potentially intercept the payload. Midnight, having a very similar style to Lappland, took a little longer to lose. Not because he was better than the rest, but Lappland had pulled her blades out and decided to give Midnight a first-hand look at how to better use his own style. He looked like he had decided to run through a field full of thorns by the end of everything.

Then there was Popukar. Any hint of mockery fell away when the little cautus girl squared up to fight. “Uh… Um…” 

“Take your time, bambina , just do what comes naturally. Give me your all.” 

Popukar nodded, her little face screwing up with determination, and yanked the ripcord on her chainsaw. Lappland idly observed it wasn’t a specially made piece of equipment, just something you would find at any ordinary hardware store. Except for the bayonet with the strap charm of course. As the metal thing sputtered and growled, it’s master ran forwards with the small battlecry, “Hyaaaaaaa!!!!”

Lappland sidestepped the charge and swiped the girl’s eyepatch. 

The girl had a look of shock first, then fear. “Wait, no I need-”

“Bambina when I said give me your all I meant everything .” 

Something curious began to happen. The fear faded, as did any hint of hesitation. Then a chuckle, a little one at first, and then much bigger until it was a full body cackle and Lappland saw the hidden eye. The darkest, blackest originum that she had ever seen lay nested in the child’s eye socket. It was streaked with deep blues that reminded her of pictures Skadi had shown her once, the color of the horrors that lived under the sea. Lappland wondered how she looked to the child through this eye. And then the beast moved and nearly took Lappland’s head off.

One-

Three-

Six blows came before she had time to blink, four to maim and two to kill. The little girl laughed all the while and Lappland couldn’t help but join in. “Molto bene, there you go!” Popukar looked like she was having so much fun, and the strikes were fast and vicious to the point where Lappland didn’t have time to think. So she didn’t. She watched, she moved, she observed, she let her blades dance as she laughed along, her arts wrapping around her. Five seconds, four, three, two…

Lappland feinted, and Popukar took the bait. Almost immediately the chainsaw was knocked from her grasp and she was pinned to the training floor. Mania became rage, her laughter turned into screams as she kicked and scratched at Lappland, desperately trying to get the chainsaw back. 

“Hey-” Lappland started before the girl wriggled her hand free and punched Lappland in the mouth. She tasted iron and felt the warmth dripping down from her lips. Okay, she may have been a little irritated now. “Che cavolo , just stop squirming !” There was still no sign of her conscious self, only the battle mad little beast. So Lappland cloaked them both in her arts, seeking weaknesses, irregularities, hesitations in the construction of the girl herself until she finally got it. “Patata-” Another punch to the mouth, this girl was more slippery than Lappland gave her credit for. “ Popukar, look at me.”

The battle rage began to fade as did the searing heat, the blue lines on the crystalline eye began to swirl and shift, more and more starting to resemble an iris. “Ms. Lapp… land?”

“There we go patata , there we go. Just hold on to this feeling. You aren’t drowning, you can’t drown in this, just go with the current.” And then her stupid fucking chainsaw had to misfire at that moment and the blue lines went all scattered again.  “Cazzo!” Lappland took a third punch to the mouth to quickly grab the girl’s eyepatch and ungracefully yank it over her head as she flooded them both with her arts. Flickering white and grey fire burned them both from the inside out, but Lappland didn’t have the luxury to figure out how to be gentle at the moment.

At last, Popukar passed out. Lappland had known what to expect but even then, it seemed that the girl subconsciously adjusted just how much violence she would inflict around her teammates. Small mercies, Lappland supposed, though she made a mental note not to make a miscalculation like this ever again. She felt dizzy and cold, though her legs were still hot and soaked with exertion. She looked towards the observation deck to get the thumbs up from Kal’tsit but was surprised to see the woman rushing over towards her.

She looked down to see an unsafe amount of her blood now covered both the floor and the girl under her. She thought back. Seven. It had been seven blows, not six. Fuck. Lappland was vaguely aware of her head hitting the floor and someone swearing in Ursan. Before the world went dark she wondered exactly how much Amiya paid their janitor.

Lappland was relaxing in a hammock, one of her legs hanging lazily over the side, on the roof of their small two story house, enjoying one of the rare days of sunshine afforded to Siracusa. The air still smelled of wet earth, and she gently swung the hammock back and forth in the breeze. She had a book, clouds overhead were gently forming patterns of people and rabbits, and she had a cold chinotto sitting on a small table within arm's reach. Lappland was practically smothered in a feeling of overwhelming contentment.

The hatch creaked open as She joined Lappland on the roof. "I'm going out for some errands. Do you need anything to make dinner?" When She spoke Siracusan it was always a treat, it sounded much better in Her mouth than either Lungmen's Yanese dialect or Columbia’s Victorian. 

Lappland took a deep breath, speaking slowly and carefully in her heavily accented Victorian, making sure she was using her correct mouth. "Amiya, luce dei miei occhi , if you don't stop this by the time I count to three I will secretly put ghost pepper sauce in your food from now on."

Pain erupted in her abdomen when she opened her eyes, and without looking Lappland knew she would have an absolutely nasty scar. A teenage girl, the little king of their landship-made-castle, sat next to her bed pouting. "You know I can't handle spicy food."

"Sì piccina, that's why I said it. Even the Doctor or Kal'tsit wouldn’t get mad at me for following through. E fa saltare ciò che hai fatto. You know this, yes?"

"But you were suffering and Kal'tsit said with your constitution we couldn't use the amount of painkillers needed to-"

"My pain and my joy are my own, piccina . Don't you dare take that away from me."

Amiya went silent for a little while, turning over what Lappland said in her mind. Turning it over in Lappland’s mind too, the woman noticed, feeling the gentle, warm tendrils of the younger girl’s powers.  “You don’t want to lose anything anymore, even if it’s bad.” Lappland sighed, she had gotten used to this level of privacy invasion at least.

This was no time to be navel gazing. “How long was I out?”

“Four days.”

“Che cazzo! Why didn’t anyone wake me up sooner?”

With a taut mouth and voice raised in distress Amiya snapped back. “Because you almost died! I watched Kal’tsit hold your intestines in place with her bare hands when they wheeled you into the operating room!”

Fuck.

“The kit hit harder than I expected. Scusa, è colpa mia. How is she holding up?”

“Bad!!” Amiya’s voice had yet to lower to her usual volume, and at points she was beginning to squeak. Lappland found it funny, to be honest. “She almost killed the operator brought in to help her manage her condition! How do you think she feels? And I’ve had to deal with the fact that a thirteen year old reserve member nearly ended the life of one of our senior operators! Quale sarebbe di preciso il mio compito, qui?”

“Practice your pronunciation for one, that was awful.” Lappland said, handing over an excess pillow. It felt like they’d had to patch her up with a mixture of healing arts and stitches, and Lappland wasn’t eager to rip stitches, so she kept as still as possible. Amiya took the pillow wordlessly and let out a high-pitched scream into its fluffy depths. “Better?”

Amiya’s eyes were wet, probably a mix of stress and relief. “No! But thank you!” Lappland cut her laugh short. Her full body, boisterous laugh was always a point of private pride to her. Unfortunately it did not mix with her injuries well. “Are you okay?” the cautus girl asked. She was so much more collected when she had other people’s problems to sink into.

“No, but thank you for asking.” Lappland mirrored Amiya’s earlier words. She couldn’t help but tease her a little. Amiya didn’t let her guard down around many people.The Doctor and Kal’tsit primarily, whatever thing she had with Rosmontis didn’t count, but somehow Lappland had ended up on that list along the way. She knew Lappland wouldn’t judge, that Lappland was always sincere, and despite misconceptions she didn’t bother correcting she genuinely meant well around people that relied on her even a little. Though sometimes that well-meaning meant getting elbow deep in the ribcage of some stronzo. 

“How long until I’m fully healed?”

“A month if you actually do what we tell you.”

“Two weeks then. Can I walk in a week?”

“You shouldn’t!” Amiya was getting stressed again.

“Hey, don't forget your breathing exercises. Remember that the Doctor and Dr. Kal’tsit both said that getting too stressed was bad for your health.” Lappland teased. “We can’t have our little prince getting ill.”

Amiya was redder than the tomatoes Lappland would eat raw when she was a child, the kind you would just bite into and let the juice run down your mouth and neck and hands. A delightful mix of fury and embarrassment that Lappland of all people was fussing over her health. “Just don’t move around! I’m glad you’re okay! I have things to do, goodbye!”

Lappland’s cackle followed Amiya out the door before her body reminded her once again how much she used her diaphragm. The girl was only fifteen and yet there she was, barely a whelp with the weight of the world on her tiny shoulders. Lappland genuinely wished that Amiya could have had a regular childhood instead of whatever this was. 

Two weeks then. She could deal with that.

Three weeks had passed and Lappland was getting frustrated at just how good Popukar was at avoiding her. A search of her room did yield a secret though. She had a small collection of merchandise and memorabilia from some idol from Lungmen, an idol that happened to work for Penguin Logistics. A company which happened to have a branch office on the Rhodes Island landship where occasionally they would send envoys to manage, as the company’s name suggested, logistics. One of the two envoys currently present happened to be said idol. The other was Her, and Lappland would do her absolute best to avoid Her for now. No use in making Her run away.

She caught the idol leaving the cafeteria and casually draped her arm around her shoulder, turning the woman down an unexpected hallway. “I’ve got a favor to ask of you, stellina . ” Lappland could feel the idol tense up, preparing to bolt at the first opportunity. But Lappland grew up a mafioso, she knew how to casually kidnap people. Besides, this one was legitimately for a good reason. A noble purpose. Introducing a certain little girl who was avoiding Lappland to her favorite idol unexpectedly was the best idea ever and had zero chance of going wrong. 

The idol took a deep breath before looking Lappland dead in the eyes. Or at least as much as she could manage with their height difference and Lappland gently moving her along while not letting go. “What kind of favor exactly? You don’t seem to be the type to listen to a small-time performer and ask for her autograph.” 

“Non ancora, but I like your spunk.” She took another turn down a smaller hallway, this one with pipes exposed and narrow enough that Lappland forcing them to walk side-by-side nearly made them brush against the walls. Lappland liked this hallway, you could hear the whole of the landship, it’s movement, it’s lifeblood. She knew the giant metal beast was alive as it slowly sailed across the wastes, an ark containing the worst misfits on Terra. It looked like the idol was having the opposite reaction, which was understandable given her present situation. “What I want from you is to make a little girl’s dream come true. She’s a huge fan and she’s having a tough time right now, it would mean the world to her. Please, stellina?”

The idol took a deep breath in, taking a few seconds before letting it out. They were at a significantly wider hall now and she was about to relent, Lappland knew. She’d actually timed the question, people were more likely to say yes when exiting a stressful situation to one that was slightly more comfortable. And then they both spotted Her. 

Faster than the idol could even think, Lappland clapped her hand over her mouth and quickly twisted them back into the small hallway. Her ears had fluffed up and her tail had gone dead still. The idol was trying to say something through her hand but Lappland kept it bolted to where it was. She would probably still be within earshot. A few seconds later the smaller lupo woman bit her finger so hard it drew blood and Lappland swore. “What the fuck is wrong with you, ngong gau?” the idol hissed, spitting out Lappland's blood.

The idol got a funny look when Lappland stuck the finger in her own mouth immediately, she’d bit it really hard and Lappland wasn’t ashamed to admit it hurt. It wasn’t the first time Lappland had swapped spit with a singer. Wasn’t even the first time it had happened in this specific way. Then the idol paled as she looked at the sharp, black crystals jutting out of Lappland’s skin. The originum was inert and probably not a big deal, but Lappland couldn’t exactly imagine eating the crystals off someone’s body was a particularly healthy pastime. She didn’t bother correcting the misunderstanding though. 

“I see the puppy remembered she had teeth.”

“That’s not an answer to my question.”

“It’s not.”

“Are you going to answer my question?” The idol huffed. She was frustrated and Lappland would be lying if she said she didn’t find it at least a little cute.

“If I feel like it.”

“Do you feel like it?”

Now Lappland was irritated. She couldn’t read the usual body language of this girl at all, her ears and tail gave nothing away, and though her face was expressive enough to more than make up for it, she couldn't be certain . “Long story short I have better things to do today, and having a reunion with our mutual… friend will derail it for long enough that it's not worth it.” 

"Why did you hesitate calling her a friend?"

"I have my reasons. Please, have some kindness, let an old wolf keep her secrets."

“Were you two…”

She was jealous . Three parts wistful, one part sad, and two parts horny made up the entirety of this woman’s emotional state when She entered the picture. Lappland could understand that state, but unfortunately Lappland had also seen the way She looked at her little angel friend. 

“Stellina, I know the number and location of every freckle on her body.” Which, to be fair, was true. It was the idol’s own fault, she kept asking after Lappland had tried to change the subject, so she decided to twist the knife. Once again Lappland saw no need to correct the little lupo’s misunderstanding.

The idol looked appropriately tormented, but in the end she took a deep breath and said, “Alright, I’ll help you. I’ll meet this little girl and then I never want to-”

“Perfect.” Lappland interrupted her. “As thanks I’ll teach you how to make Her favorite dessert.”

The idol looked puzzled, Lappland’s derailment working splendidly. “You can make pocky?”

“What? No, it’s bomboloni.” The doubt filled the idol’s eyes but she nodded nonetheless.

Popukar was going through artistic withdrawal. She hadn’t vandalized anything with her spray paints in weeks, no weird sculptures left in strange places, she hadn’t even drawn on anyone’s face while they were taking a nap (and the Doctor took so many naps, honestly her favorite was to draw funny eyes on their mask). But she had a good reason! The scary lady that was kind of nice but she almost killed was looking for her. Popukar didn’t know what for but she’d rather not find out. She could definitely spend the rest of her life avoiding the woman, it was a big landship, but god was she bored.

So when Catapult told her that someone at the mail center had a package for her she was out the door and down the hall by the time the woman finished her sentence. The door to the mail center opened with a ‘whoosh’. She liked the whoosh, the whoosh let her know the doors were there and of all the traffic going in and out of the landship rooms at any given time. She had good hearing, better than most to the point where she would get overstimulated sometimes. Dr. Kal’tsit had been the one to suggest keeping her ears against her head and wearing a cap over them, and even then she could hear better than most of her fellow operators. 

And so the little cautus girl stepped into the mail center and came face to face with Sora, the idol. Her idol. Popukar felt like her heart was going to explode. She was going to scream, with delight or terror she wasn’t sure. She was going to have a panic attack. She was going to throw up. She was having the best worst day of her life and ohmygoshit’sherit’sherit’sherit’sSora. She managed to squeak out a tiny “Hi…”

“Oh, hi! Popukar, right?” Her idol was speaking to her, her idol knew she existed, knew her name . “I heard you were a fan of mine and I wanted to meet you.” ohmygoshohmygoshohmygoshohmygosh!! “I just didn’t expect you to come by so soon! I wanted to give you an autograph, is that okay?” Popukar violently shook her head up and down. “Great! Let me just go grab a photo, it’s one that never made it into any of the photo books or gift bags. I’ll be right back, okay?”

As Sora walked towards the door, Popukar turned to watch her go and froze . There Lappland was, standing next to the door, still as water and silent as the grave. Popukar hadn’t even noticed her. She handed over a folded piece of paper to Sora. “Grazie, stellina . If you can’t figure it out just let me know.”

“I know how to cook.” Sora huffed as she stepped outside. The door whooshed shut, this time with the sound of a bolt clicking into place. Popukar was locked in with Lappland.

“Now bambina, I think we need to have a talk.” Popukar turned and bolted . At least she attempted to but the strong arms of the older woman wrapped around her waist as Lappland picked her up off the floor. “Per favore calmati, patata mia.” 

Popukar didn’t know enough Siracusan to understand what Lappland was saying. She was probably telling her how she was going to cook her up and eat her. She’d heard stories about Lappland after the woman was put in the medical ward. Any time someone heard the story of how she ended up there, they gave Popukar a pitying look.

She was going to be rabbit stew, and so she struggled and thrashed and kicked until one of those kicks landed directly in Lappland’s abdomen. The woman dropped Popukar like a sack of potatoes as she doubled over, making a shriek like a coyote in a trash compactor. Popukar had turned to make a break for the door before she realized Lappland had started bleeding.

“Sei un rompicoglioni, patata. Calm down, I just wanted to talk.” Everything was overstimulating. Popukar could hear the blood rushing through her body, the pounding of her heart, the flowing of Lappland’s blood running down her side and onto the floor. “It’s going to be alright.” Popukar did the most sensible thing to her at that point. She fainted. 

Lappland swore, lunging to protect the girl’s head as she fell. Her stitches were torn, she was bleeding over the delivery center’s floor. “Does anything else want to go wrong today?” She yelled to no one in particular. Then there was the click of the door becoming unlocked and one final ‘whoosh’. There in the door stood Her, Texas in the flesh, hilt in hand surveying the situation. “Va’ a farti fottere!”

“Levati dai coglioni . You’re not usually this rude.”

“I’m having a bad day.”

“Aren’t you happy to see me?” 

“Yes.”

Texas motioned towards Popukar as she put her weapon away. “Need help?”

“Please.”

Both Dr. Kal’tsit and Amiya were in the medical ward when the unlikely trio walked through the door. Kal’tsit acknowledge Lappland but her eyebrow quirked at her companion carrying both half of her and also Popukar. Amiya saw the blood running down Lappland’s side and pursed her lips, letting out a scream so high pitched it was only audible to dogs. That unfortunately extended to both Texas and Lappland. “Hey boss, had some trouble.”

“I don’t care anymore! Fuck!!” Amiya never swore, so she left those in the room shocked as she exited.

“What’s eating her?” Lappland asked Kal’tsit with a grin and the woman gave her a look . “Alright, fine, do we have anyone that can stitch me up?” And so Lappland’s needs were attended to as Texas laid Popukar down in an unexpectedly free room. “I thought space would have been tight.”

“The room was supposed to be yours for another week considering the extent of the damage, and we wanted to monitor you to make sure there wasn’t any chance of the wound reopening. ” Lappland couldn’t say anything in response to Kal’tsit. 

“Sono desolata .

“Thank you, you aren’t forgiven.” Kal’tsit turned to Texas. “And you, get out of here, you’re exciting the patient too much.” It was true, Lappland’s tail had been wagging a mile a minute ever since they had left the mail room together. She whined, but Kal’tsit wouldn’t budge on the matter and Texas didn’t care to contradict her. She did forcefully put a stick of pocky in Lappland’s mouth on her way out though.

It was tasty enough, but the stupid little cookie was nothing compared to what Lappland could cook herself. And then the stitches were done and Lappland waited patiently next to the bed until Popukar woke up. The little girl was at once anxious and guilty as soon as she saw Lappland. “I… I’m sorry Ms. Lappland. Um. Are you-”

“Non ti preoccupare, patata . ” Lappland waved her hand like she was shooing away a fly. “I could have handled that better.”

They sat in silence for a few moments before Popukar cleared her throat and said, “I don’t understand what you’re saying”

“I said don’t worry about it, potato.”

“Why would you call me a potato?” This confused her. She wasn’t a potato, she was a little girl. She wondered if this woman needed her eyes checked, maybe the disease had made this woman’s vision worse than her own.

“It’s a nickname in Siracusan for a little girl you’re fond of.”

“So you’re not going to chop me up into rabbit stew?”

“Well if we get stranded alone in the mountains with no way to escape I might, but no not otherwise.” Lappland let out a deep sigh. “Is that why you were running away from me, bambina?” 

Popukar shook her head at first, but then changed her mind halfway through and began nodding. “A lot of people said you were violent and crazy.”

“Well, that’s true.”

“And that your favorite snack was misbehaving children.”

“Hey now, I never hurt children.” She looked legitimately affronted. “Especially not ones as good as you.” 

Tears began to well up in the little girl’s eyes. “But… but I'm not good! I hurt you!” Her little body began to shake with hiccups as she tried to continue talking without bursting into tears. “I wanted to use my power to keep my team from fighting but what if I hurt them just as bad as I hurt you?”

“Hey, that’s what I’m here for.”

The dam burst and the little girl was full-on sobbing now. “But you almost d-died! I-I almost k-killed you! What if that h-happened to my team?”

“That was my own mistake. I didn’t take you as seriously as I should have.” Lappland cupped the girl's face, wiping her tears away with her thumb. “Patata mia, per favore, non piangere . ” she said, but it didn’t look like the waterworks were going to end any time soon. Lappland remembered the musbeast from her childhood, how she would hold it and coo when it was sick or scared. So she gently scooted Popukar over and climbed onto the bed next to her, holding her tight until her tears had run out and she had fallen asleep.

When she looked up, she saw Kal’tsit standing in the doorway. “We need to talk.” Lappland said, careful not to wake up the little girl still holding onto her.

“I was just thinking the same thing.” Kal’tsit replied.

Entering Kal’tsit’s room at night wasn’t on the top five list of things Lappland was sure she’d never do, but it was still unexpected to say the least. There was a table bolted to the floor next to a wide window that presented a view of a beautiful moonlit night out on the wastes. Ka’tsit’s bed was a simple thing, Rhodes Island standard issue even if she was upper-level staff. A cabinet filled with various bottles of all shapes and sizes was nestled snugly in the corner, revealing that the room’s owner had distinguished and varied tastes in her liquor. Lappland had no idea how much of this was actually Dr. Kal’tsit and how much was a carefully constructed facade to convince other people she was just like them.

Kal’tsit motioned across the room. “Sit where you like.”

Some small part of Lappland wondered where exactly the night would go if she chose to sit on the bed. However, as attractive as Kal’tsit was, sleeping with her boss when she was generally on thin ice seemed like a recipe for disaster and maybe a little murder at the best of times. Also she had literally just left the medical ward for ripping her stitches. So she was safe and took one of the chairs at the window-side table.

Kal’tsit brought over two chilled glasses and a decanter of clear liquor that made Lappland crinkle her nose when the older woman pulled off the stopper. “Don’t you have wine?”

“It doesn’t suit my palate, generally. I’ll tolerate it at social functions though. Ursan nobles love the stuff to the point where they might wander off drunk into the tundra and not come back.” 

“Dr. Kal’tsit are you saying you’ve been to, dare I say it, parties with Nobility ?” Lappland could see it now, Kal’tsit as an unapproachable ice queen, a dress with strange crystalline intricacies that would confuse the eye, and flanking her would be her horrifying pet of course.

“Surely you know how it is. With what relatively little we could dig up on you, it seems like you must have been very involved with the famiglia, maybe even to the point where you attended their equivalent of balls yourself.”

The lupo woman paused, her glass pressed to her lips, Lappland remembered the sit downs. When the administrations would chat to settle territorial disputes and they would congratulate her father for having a daughter so willing to learn. The venues, various dons’ private libraries and studies most times, always reeked of cigar smoke and a lust for power. The dances were done with words and only sometimes daggers. 

“I was very dashing, you know. Women would swarm the handsome Dame Kal’tsit for a mere conversation, I’m fairly sure I could find a token of affection or two around here somewhere if I really looked.” Kal’tsit took a long sip of her drink. “I have been known to get into duels when certain nobles accused me of seducing their wives.” Lappland choked on her vodka. “Which was ridiculous of course. Why would you willingly challenge someone to a duel when they far outmatched you?”

Lappland had stopped coughing at that point. “And the rumors of your seductions?”

“Oh those? All true, every single one. Especially the filthy ones.”

The lupo woman froze. She had a feeling that she should not be hearing any of this, and that Kal’tsit’s earlier ambiguity about where she could sit down was entirely intentional. Lappland cleared her throat. “Popukar.”

“Yes.”

“What exactly do you want from me?”

“A teacher. As I said, the similarities between you two when you both start going is uncanny to say the least. And at the very least you are more than capable of pulling her out of that state if you use your arts.” 

“Aren’t you afraid it will worsen my condition?”

“Are you?”

“Not particularly.” Lappland wondered what the play was here, Kal’tsit’s angle. She rescues a child from some facility, she adopts her, and then she just pawns off the duty of teaching her to, as others have called her, a mad dog waiting to be put down. A lone wolf.

“It seems that much is settled, then.” 

Another angle, then. “Are you trying to bind me to this place?”

“In a way, yes.” Kal’tsit answered with no hesitation. 

“Why?”

“I value your unique skill set, Amiya trusts you, and we have a shortage of operators who are willing to do what is necessary when hard calls have to be made.”

“You mean kill the people you tell them to without question.”

“Yes.”

Kal’tsit had always made her a little wary, she smelled like death and always kept her cards close. She was similar to the more dangerous famiglia bosses, ones she knew rather intimately. Lappland knew if she followed that train of thought any more she was going to wind up at some uncomfortable destinations in regards to her attraction to the woman, so she let it drop.

“Aren’t you afraid I’ll corrupt your daughter?”

“Popukar is only my daughter on paper.”

“Cazzate . Don’t fuck with me, Kal’tsit. Not now.” Kal’tsit looked her dead in the eye, same as when she told Lappland that she’d ensured Popukar’s parents no longer walked the earth. “Why aren’t you the one handling this?”

Kal’tsit sighed. “Because it’s not in my skill set. I was able to give Red what she needed when she needed it, and she’s self-sufficient for the most part.”

“I didn’t realize turning one of your daughters into an assassin slash serial killer was considered good parenting here, but whatever works for you.” Kal’tsit shot her a look and Lappland raised her hands in mock surrender, ignoring once again some surface level similarities the woman had with her father. “When exactly did you decide to get me involved?”

“I found a curious tale in Siracusa. Some half urban legend rumor of a sorella who would grant a child any wish, within reason, for the terrible cost of a trinket.” Lappland immediately wanted to die. “It might be their favorite marble, maybe a drawing they were proud of, and she would always tell them when they asked for something they had to pay a terrible price. She would be very insistent they remember that if they or their families ever talked to the famiglia.”

“Huh! How strange.”

“Did you know she’s become something of a patron saint for children?” If only the landship capsized right then and there, somehow throwing Lappland from Kal’tsit’s room into the depths of the wastes. “There are little drawings of a grey wolf with a plate of pastries all over the city. I took some pictures, look, there’s little trinkets left at the wolf’s feet.”

“That’s fine, I don’t need to see it.”

“Embarrassed?”

“Vai a cagare. Any other day it would be fine.” Lappland pushed her palms into her eyes. “Hell, I’ll find it funny tomorrow. I don’t think the Papacy will be canonizing me any time soon, though.” 

“So, santa sorella…” Lappland groaned. “Can I count on you for this? Can I count on you to take care of my Popukar?”

“What are you, a father talking to his daughter’s groom?”

Lappland.

She was silent for one second, then two, then ten. At last she let out a deep breath, crumpling inwards before she met Kal’tsit’s eyes again. “Fine, yes.”

“Swear to me.”

“In sickness and death, to have and to hold, I will take care of your daughter and treat her as one of my own.” Lappland knocked back her glass and brought it down against the table a little harder than necessary. “Happy?”

Kal’tsit drained her own. “Rarely, but I’ll take this.”

The way to the heart of anyone worth knowing, in Lappland’s opinion, was through their stomach. So obviously the first stop Lappland took Popukar to for training since “the incident” was the kitchen. “Do you have any food allergies, bambina? Anything you don’t like?”

“Um, no.” Popukar was confused. “What are we doing here?”

“We,” Lappland paused, pulling ingredients out of the fridge and readying a pan with enough manic energy that any of the kitchen staff thought better of trying to shoo her out “are making pasta.” She said it as if it was the most obvious thing in the world. She grabbed two cutting boards and a variety of knives, and dropped them on either side of the ingredient pile. “Do you know how to cut things without cutting your finger off?” Lappland held up her hand in the cat’s paw position.

Popukar tilted her head to the side. “P-probably?” she shrank under Lappland’s impassive, analytical stare. “No?”

“Tell you what, you can slice the pomodorini, only one cut each.” Lappland motioned to the cherry tomatoes. “I’ll handle the onion and garlic. Now this is an important mission, the fate of the most important thing ever depends on your efforts. Our cena.” Lappland solemnly handed over a tiny knife and Popukar took it with equal solemnity.

“What’s a cena?” 

“Our supper.”

“I won’t let you down!”

And with that they got to work. Popukar focused her little visible eye hard at her task before her as Lappland practically danced around the kitchen retrieving all sorts of odds and ends, prepping, and dumping them into the pan. She did have to very adamantly explain to Popukar that yes the pan looked crowded but in no uncertain terms should she ever break the pasta if she thinks it won’t fit. It would, trust a thousand years of Siracusan culinary advancement for that. 

And then at last, it was done. A pan of pasta that Lappland quickly divided on to two plates. “Grab those silverware would you?”

“Where are we going?”

“The deck! I want to look at the stars with you.”

There were a few operators on deck who had the same idea, some of them eating others just chatting with each other in the starlight. Lappland perched haphazardly on the guardrail while Popukar squatted nearby.

Lappland told many stories to Popukar under the starlight. She spoke of Siracusa and its streets and foods, the astronomers that had come from there, fables and fairy tales, and the strange and wondrous places she had seen on her journey to Rhodes Island.

“Do you think when I grow up I’ll be able to see those things too?”

“When I’m done with you, you’ll be able to go off alone on whatever adventure you want, patata.” Lappland laughed, eating the last bite of her pasta.

Privately, though Popukar didn’t know her that well yet, she thought any adventures would be more fun if Lappland was around.

“Bambina, what am I holding exactly?” 

“Um…” Popukar looked at the canisters in Lappland’s hand. “One is just a grey primer, but the other one is gloss tulip pink.”

“Santo celio, I can read the canisters patata, I want to know why I’m holding spray paint.”

They stood in front of Closure’s office. The woman had gone to lunch (probably), so Popukar had chosen this time specifically to make improvements. “Well, I heard some people say that Miss Closure was Miss Pudding’s…” She stumbled, searching for the right word.

“Property?” Lappland helpfully supplied. The curvature of what they were here to do was slowly taking shape in her mind. It probably wasn’t the right word but Closure had overcharged her for some maintenance recently and she was in the mood to get even.

“Sure! I know how to spell that one! I’ve been wanting to paint, so I thought a sign to let people know about Miss Closure would be helpful.” Popukar sat a small duffle bag next to the door as she began fiddling around, looking for the right canisters. She quickly handed Lappland a mask after putting one on herself. “I just need you to cover from there,” she pointed to a reasonably high up spot on the door, “to there with the grey and then put a bunch of the pink on the inside.”

Lappland nodded. “Sì, I can do that.” So she got to work, laying the foundation on which Popukar quickly built on. By the time the girl was finished, Lappland picking her up to help her finish the higher bits, ‘Pudding’s Property’ was visible from all sides of the door in big pink emphasized letters. Though to be honest, Lappland had made the base a bit bigger than the door so the text may have been a biiiiiiit bigger than originally envisioned. For Lappland’s individual contribution, she’d helpfully added a badly drawn bat with a small arrow pointed at it for emphasis. 

As they stood back to admire their work, they heard a tray clatter to the ground behind them. Lappland turned to see Closure having returned from the mess hall, seemingly to eat and work at the same time, only to be greeted with her new door and the culprits all at once. She was the reddest Lappland had ever seen, though out of embarrassment or anger she couldn’t tell. Popukar didn’t help. “Miss Closure! Did we do a good job?”

Needless to say they had not, in fact, done a good job. The entire engineering department had loved it obviously, but apparently you couldn’t vandalize the office door of one of Rhodes Island’s founding members without getting put on slug duty. 

They’d received a report that morning about a nearby nest placed too close for comfort to a well traveled route for couriers and pilgrims, and Amiya didn’t want to leave behind any hazardous situations if she could help it. She had thought their prank on Closure was funny at least. Lappland could tell, even if she didn’t say it out loud. Even if she had given Lappland the most exhausted stare as she looked over the report. A teeny tiny bit funny. Deep inside.

So Lappland’s motorcycle roared to life as the landship spat them out of one of its smaller auxiliary docking bays. Giving Kal’tsit a brief, barely perceptible nod as she watched from the main deck, Lappland brought the bike into a deep turn and sped off into the distance, Popukar holding on tightly behind her. How long had it been since she had ridden with a passenger, she wondered? With Texas in their childhood? Did the Don her father had had her kidnap count? Then there was the girl she-

“What should I do when we get there?” Popukar yelled over the wind, her tiny voice just barely registering. Lappland had forgotten to turn on their helmet mics, she realized.

“It’s not urgent, we can just throw a canister of starter fluid into the opening and set it off!” Both Lappland and Popukar were fairly sturdy, especially now that Lappland had gotten her stitches out. If any of the slugs happened to be infused or a bit more lively than the others it should work out alright, they’d be half dead and on fire anyways. Popukar gave her a little thumbs up in her peripheral vision. 

“Lappland, come in. How far are you from the site?” Amiya’s voice crackled through the coms.

“Ten minutes at current pace, piccina.”

“There’s been a distress call near the nest from some pioneers, I need you there now.”

Lappland swore. “Copy that.” She looked over the terrain. They could probably cut their time in half but it would be a rough ride. “Hang on tight!” she called to Popukar. As soon as she felt the girl’s arms tighten around her waist, she opened the throttle.

Rough terrain was no real issue. The bike was sturdy enough and built for a variety of road conditions, and when they launched over a hill Popukar seemed to instinctively understand how exactly she needed to shift her weight and cling to Lappland so as to not cause them to capsize at their frankly unsafe velocity. When they crested the final ridge, Lappland caught sight of the pioneer convoy. Twenty-three adults and ten kids by the looks of things, five or so of them had formed a firing line with their crossbows and were desperately trying to stop the continuing advance of the slugs. 

The one thing that was not normal, however, were the massive scorch marks that marred the ground behind the slugs. On closer inspection, Lappland saw the slugs were glowing a harsh red under their black carapace. Lappland slid the bike to a stop. “Bambina, I need you to listen to me very carefully.” Lappland was already off the bike, helmet hanging from the handlebars, halfway done unstrapping the starter fluid can from the side of the bike. It was big enough that Popukar had to hold it in both of her little arms. “Avoid contact with any of the slugs, stuff this in the biggest hole in the nest you can find, and then come back to the bike. Va bene?"

Popukar nodded and Lappland gave her a couple pats on the head. “I won’t let you down!”

“Patata, you could never let me down.” With a massive swing of her swords, Lappland turned and launched a volley of her arts at the slug nearest the caravan. 

It had already made its way into the blasting radius of the crossbowmen, and as they saw it die they closed their eyes waiting for the ensuing explosion. But it never came. What came instead was a wolf-like woman with two swords, cackling as she launched arc after arc of monochrome arts directly into the bodies of the slugs who then died without exploding. “Fantastica!” she said, looking back at them. “All of you are still alive!. My boss would be very displeased with me if that was not the case.” 

“A… A nest. T-there’s a big-” 

“Sí, sí, my little assistant has it all handled. She’s got everything under…” Lappland turned to see Popukar finish stuffing the canister into the nest, blissfully unaware of the slug set to explode having just come out of a half-hidden hole behind her. “Popukar! Watch ou-”

It was a chain reaction. The slug exploded, which must have set off the canister, which resulted in the blast ripping across the hill, shrapnell and concussive force throwing pieces of earth into the sky. Lappland couldn’t see through the smoke and dust. She almost didn’t want to see, her mind already giving her gruesome images of what an explosion of that size would do to a body as small as Popukar’s. She dimly felt little fragments of stone bite into her skin when she fell to her knees.

She had failed. Popukar was dead. She was going to have to pick up little pieces of her to bring back to Kal’tsit. Lappland was going to be sick. But as the smoke and dust began to thin out, she saw something strange. A small silhouette of a girl standing in the flames, a bright, searing blue coming from her face. Popukar stood like hell’s lighthouse, unharmed by the heat and fire around her. Her clothes were a half destroyed mess and her eyepatch was missing, but she was for the most part unharmed. 

So when she launched herself at Lappland, chainsaw screaming all the while, Lappland couldn’t help but joyfully pick up her own blades and go to meet her. Metal against metal, heat against kinetic force. The pioneers behind Lappland were almost a half forgotten dream as she and the little rabbit danced. But then Popukar’s strikes began to change and twist, incorporating feedback Lappland had given her on her form. And then they came to a stop all together. 

Popukar looked up at Lappland, face no longer twisted in a cackling, manic grin, eye still blazing, heat still rushing out of her. “Did I do a good job?”

Though it nearly burned her hand to do so, Lappland gave Popukar a few pats on the head. “You did the best job.” Lappland turned to check on the pioneers before seeing them off, to see if any needed first aid or some other assistance as many of them gawked at the little rabbit with a lighthouse stuck to her face behind her. She was bandaging up a Sarkaz child’s arm who had fallen during the escape when some of the smaller children approached Popukar.

“How are you doing that?”

“Why do you have a chainsaw?”

“Why does your eye look like that?”

Despite doing seemingly fine, Popukar anxiously yanked the remnants of her hat down as an impromptu eyepatch, causing the heat to dissipate. She was doing so well, Lappland wondered what she could do to give the girl more confidence that she could keep her powers in check. Maybe she needed more practice? Or maybe some high intensity training to ensure she was able to maintain a clear head despite outside stressors. With that sort of training, the girl might have even learned a way to control her heat emissions. But sadly there wasn’t really any way to simulate a high stress situation in a controlled environment. 

Then, Lappland got an idea.

Once again Lappland stood in a training room across from Popukar. This time neither of them had weapons, they both knew what to expect to some degree, and Amiya was present. “When she takes her eyepatch off, I’ll need you inside her head ready to guide her like I instruct. Tutto ok?” 

Both Amiya and Lappland looked up at the girl who gave them a little, shy wave. She then waved at Kal’tsit, once again watching from the observation deck. Lappland had wanted to use live weapons again but both Amiya and Kal’tsit had vetoed that idea. “To keep her calm at the right times?”

“What? No, obviously not.”

“What… what exactly did you want me to do then?”

Lappland sighed dramatically, clicking her tongue. “Incubi, Piccina . Nightmares, terrors, panic attacks. Whatever is locked up inside her cute little subconscious I need you to jailbreak and shoot it full of adrenaline.”

Amiya shot a look up to an impassive Kal’tsit. “Did Kal’tsit sign off on this?” She couldn’t have, right?

“The doc told me to train her however I thought best.”

“And you don’t think this is a little cruel? A little too far?” 

“Sono d’accordo .

Lappland loved children Amiya reminded herself. There had to be something here. A test, a game for her, maybe she was the one really being observed this time. “Why would you go out of your way to hurt her?”

The lupo woman towering over her, not so much in stature as in presence, gave her such a look of exasperation. “Because you aren’t the only one with arts that fuck with people’s heads, piccina. If the patatina is out in the field and cut off from all support, things aren’t going to be calm and collected with the arts of our little prince watching over her.”

“This is too much.”

“Then fire me. Otherwise, help me teach her how to stay in control in the worst scenario.” Amiya didn’t respond so Lappland huffed and went over to the other cautus girl and squatted down next to her. “Patatina, the next part of this training might be a little hard, okay? We’re going to do our best to scare you, but nothing will hurt you physically, tutto bene?”

Popukar nodded her little head and Lappland gave it a pat and ruffle. She stood once more and gave the little one a wide berth as nodded to Amiya. Amiya knew this was wrong, but Lappland had insisted this was the only way and Kal’tsit had signed off and Popukar herself had given the okay. Popukar scrunched up her little face in determination and pulled the eyepatch free. Amiya wondered what else was she supposed to do but open the floodgates.

Once again the blue patterns on Popukar’s crystalline eye swam across it like bioluminescent lightning. She tried to hold on, to go with the current but not drown, and she was managing to doggy paddle at least. The light bleeding out was even, and the heat surrounding her was still manageable. 

“Give her a little juice.” Lappland said to Amiya, so she reached into the girl’s subconscious, looking for levers to pull and places where she could nest her hooks. Dark, pain, loneliness, sharp invasive things, pain, where was everyone where did they go where why does it hurt. With the determination of a morally compromised tugboat, she towed it up from the depths seeing if any of it would make the younger girl capsize. 

Lappland watched as the girl’s breathing quickened, the lines on her eye began to scatter, dismantling the barely formed iris, and she began to growl like a little rabid beast. When she charged at Lappland she caught her easily, throwing her onto the mat and pinning her. “Keep hold of yourself patatina, sì?” Popukar’s breathing was still ragged but there was a spark of recognition in her eyes as she nodded. Backing away again, Lappland looked back at Amiya. “More.”

“Lappland there’s some things here that I really don’t think-”

More, coniglietta.”

Against her better judgment, Amiya dredged deeper and pulled. And then everything went to shit.

Any semblance of control Popukar had managed to retain vanished immediately. She was laughing, crying, begging because it hurt and she was lonely and scared and things were sharp and she couldn’t see out of her eye anymore and all the other children had vanished and she cried and cried and cried and wailed all as the air around her began to burn.

Lappland was impassive. This was hard to see but it was necessary. Out on the field of battle you couldn’t afford any weaknesses. You couldn’t afford to lose control when you were alone. You had to be strong, you had to control your-

A memory surfaced for her, when her father had killed her musbeast in front of her and how she had howled and wept, holding its cooling body to her chest. “Remember this lesson, figlia mia. You must have no weakness, no one must be able to exploit you, you must face any of your shortcomings and eliminate them. Turn them into your strengths. Live in your fear and use it against them.” Lappland had sworn never to become like him. And here she fucking was.

“Amiya, turn it off.”

“But you said-”

“Che cazzo, I know what I said and I’m changing my mind, turn it off! ” 

Even with Amiya’s arts gone, the girl was still screaming, the air around her still burning. Maybe it was a panic attack amplified by her condition or maybe Lappland had just fucked up that badly. Caution be damned, she ran to Popukar and held her close. The girl was hot enough Lappland felt her flesh searing, but what else could she do to bring a panicking child out of a mess she had made herself? She remembered a song a woman had sung to her as a child, her mother or a nursemaid she didn’t know. 

She hadn’t sung in ages, her voice was unsteady and cracking and her crystals burned as she molded her arts within herself to do something that clearly did not come naturally. But for this little girl Lappland would try, she’d even pray in the empty churches in Siracusa to Law if it would make a difference.  “Va bene, tesoro mia. The nightmares are over.” It wouldn’t be like last time. There was no need to hurt both of them. Lappland burned alone, pulling every fiber of violence from her arts before it bled outwards and covered the younger girl like a blanket. 

It was the gentlest Lappland could manage, and for the time being it worked. Popukar’s breathing steadied, her body stopped convulsing, and she looked to Lappland with recognition clear in her eyes. “I thought I was a potato.”

Lappland couldn’t help but burst into laughter. “Patatina o tesoro, you’re fine either way.” She nudged the girl towards Amiya and one of the medical staff to go get checked out before she headed up the stairs to the observation deck where Kal’tsit awaited her. 

“I can’t do it, take me off this job.” 

“Don’t sell yourself short, I think you recovered nicely.”

“There shouldn’t have been anything to recover from. I’m not built for this, I can’t teach or take care of children. If I was meant to be a mother I would have knocked up a nice Siracusan girl and had a load of little Lapplands running all over this landship.” Her breathing was ragged. Remembering ‘figlia mia’ made her want to retch. “But I didn’t so I’m not and I don’t want to be the one to fuck up your daughter for the rest of her life. Ha senso per te, zietta? Punish me, throw me in the brig for all I care, just take me off this job.”

“Is that what you want? To be punished for your sins?” Kal’tsit’s gaze tore right through Lappland, and she could only grin in response. “Would a long-term away mission do?”

“Perfetto.”

“I’ll look into it, but it may take a while to set up.” Kal’tsit saw that the brief check-up on Popukar had finished. “Until then, do your job if you want to make it up to her.”

Not imagining there was anything else of value she could give to the girl, Lappland continued teaching Popukar how to cook. Pasta, risotto, parmigiana, even pizza. If it was Siracusan and they could make it in the Rhodes Island kitchen, Lappland taught her. Cooking was probably the one thing Lappland thought she could give to people that was untouched by violence. One day Popukar sprinted into the kitchen and wrapped Lappland in the biggest hug her tiny arms could manage.

“Sora actually gave me her autograph! Thank you thank you thank you thank you-”

Lappland laughed uncomfortably and slowly untangled herself from the girl’s embrace “Figurati, I was serious when I kidnapped her for it.”

“You kidnapped her??”

“As a joke! A little prank.” Popukar looked at her with disbelief when she saw what Lappland was cooking. “We’re having carbonara tonight.”

Weeks went by before Kal’tsit finally came to her with the mission. “There are a series of small villages on the coast of Iberia. The Inquisition has little to no presence there, and since they’ve been all but cut off from the rest of the country since the Profound Silence.”

“We’re banned from operating in Iberia, no?”

“That’s why you’ll be incognito.”

“Bene, as what?” 

Kal’tsit passed over a small parcel of papers. “A traveling performer from Siracusa. If the Inquisition interrogates you, you fell afoul the famiglia and had to leave. If they bother to send anyone to follow up on these claims they’ll find much the same.”

“It’s not too far from the truth.” Lappland laughed.

“I need you to develop what contacts you can there, I want to be able to know what is happening in that country if I need to. And if you run into any infected, treat them as you can.” Kal’tsit stared deep into her soul. “Have you told Popukar?”

“No.”

“You’re going to break her heart.”

“If her heart is the only thing I’ve broken, well then, hai voluto la bicicletta.” Lappland didn’t meet Kal’tsit’s gaze. “She’ll be better off.”

Popukar had only managed to find out about it by chance. She was walking by a side lounge when she heard a snippet of the conversation inside. “I know she pulls her own around here, but a couple months without Lappland is going to be a load of stress off my back.”

“Isn’t that a little harsh?”

“If you were from Siracusa you’d feel the same way.”

Months? Why? Where was she going? Why hadn’t she told Popukar? The little cautus took off as fast as she could down the halls toward Kal’tsit’s office. 

Lappland pulled the straps tight against her motorcycle, checking one last time to make sure she had everything. Supplies? Check. Camping and survival gear? Check. An oversized case for her violin with a hidden bottom? Check. Everything she needed was present and fully secured to her bike. 

She felt, more than heard, Amiya come up behind her. “Here to see me off?”

Amiya looked down, not wanting to meet Lappland’s eyes when she turned. She was supposed to see operators off with a smile after all, and right then she just couldn’t find the strength. “You don’t have to be the one to take this assignment, you know.”

“Relax, it’s practically a vacation for me. A couple months of a paid coastal tour? Non vedo l’ora.”

“Can I change your mind?”

“Not this time, sorry piccina.” Amiya clenched her little hands at Lappland’s response.

“Will you at least come back alive?”

“Tornerò in vita, la prometta.” Amiya met her eyes then. Lappland could see the water threatening to spill over. “If I don’t come back, who will make your food spicy when you misbehave?”

“You’ve never actually done it.”

“You never misbehaved that badly.” She took a few steps back to get a look of the younger woman. “To think you were thiiiiiiiiiiiiisss big when I met you.” Lappland held her palms close together, making her impression of Amiya as a child comically small. 

“I was not!” The words came out warbled as Lappland pressed her palms to Amiya’s cheeks.

“Luce dei miei occhi, you gave me a home when I was cast out from mine. I will not forget that. If I can come home to you alive I will. Satisfied?”

After a pause, Amiya nodded. She quickly rubbed her eyes on her jacket sleeve. “In that case, I look forward to hearing of your success when you return.” she said in a big, brave, strong voice. Lappland saluted and Amiya laughed despite herself. She looked Lappland up and down, and whether steeling herself or encouraging Lappland, scrunched up her eyes and gave a big nod. Amiya turned and walked out of the hanger with her head high. 

Lappland’s half-hearted smile only faded slightly as she knocked the side of her fist against the hanger switch. A side-ramp began to lower with the moan of hydraulics as Lappland turned to finally secure her helmet to her head. 

There stood Popukar, giant rucksack nearly towering behind her, little motorcycle helmet in hand. Now covered in various, spray-painted design, she’d obviously been doing some customizing behind Lappland’s back. “I’m coming with you.” She said in a very brave voice. 

“No. Absolutely not.”

“Dr. Kal’tsit said I could if I could convince you.” 

“You can’t convince me, that’s the end of it.” Lappland turned to recheck her luggage and give the bike a once-over. 

“I’ll do better at controlling myself.”

“Patata, that's not what I want to make you do at all.” The old, lone wolf met the kit’s eyes. “I want you to live well, doing whatever makes you happy.” 

“Going with you would make me happy.”

“Il mio dio, you know that’s not what I mean.” The hatch had finally opened, and Lappland looked across the sunrise-lit lands of the wastes. She secured her helmet to her head. 

“Please?” Popukar looked at her, one watery, visible eye as wide open as it could be. “Please, santa sorella?”

Lappland was going to kill Kal’tsit. “Where did you hear that?”

“Dr. Kal’tsit said to call you that, if you said no.”

“Bambina I’m trying to make it so you don’t have me around. I hurt you.”

“You apologized. I’m happier when you’re around!” Popukar had to practically shout to be heard over the noise from outside the landship.

“What about needing to keep your team from fighting?”

“They promised to behave the entire time I’m gone!”

Frustrated beyond belief, Lappland nearly snarled. “Why do you even want to be near me, coniglietta?” 

Popukar took one step towards the motorcycle, then another. “Because I have fun when you’re around. You always try to be interested when I talk to you, and you actually tell me what I did when I can’t remember. And you got me my favorite singer’s autograph.”

“I’m sure Kal’tsit would do all that if you asked her.”

“But I want it to be you .

“Someone else can teach you to control your powers.”

“I want it to be you.

“Why?”

“Because you’re the only one who knows how fun it is to lose control.”

“I…” Letting go of it all in combat, leaving millenia of famiglia law and order behind, losing all responsibility by being a perceived fuckup. It was true, it really was all very fun. “I don’t have a huge shot at convincing you to stay on the ship, do I?” Lappland gave a sigh and smiled.

“Nope!” Popukar chirped. “If you leave without me I’m going to follow behind and probably get lost instead. I’m very good at getting lost..”

Lappland looked up to see Kal’tsit leaning against the hanger wall, smirking. Her smile only deepend as Lappland mouthed some very rude words in Siracusan, as if she had read her lips despite them being hidden behind her helmet. “Don’t you have something better to do?”

“I figured I would see you two off.”

You two. There was little chance of Lappland leaving solo after all. “What are you doing?” Lappland hissed quietly over the coms. 

“I’m not in the business of telling full fledged operators what they can and can’t do while off the ship. If we go by seniority, she’s only a year under you.”

“Why are you doing this, zietta?”

“You said in sickness and death, neither of you have died yet so I intend to hold you to your words.”

“You’re tying me down.”

“Yes.” Kal’tsit cut the coms. “I look forward to seeing you both back in three months.” She said out loud, for the benefit of both of them. 

Lappland looked down at the big, watery eye of Popukar. She sighed as she always did when someone called her sorella and asked for something. “Give me your pack, bambina. I’ll get it secured.”

“In bocca al lupo.” Kal’tsit said as Lappland finished the last minute alterations towards her luggage setup, and Lappland laughed in response. She stayed in the hanger watching over the both of them until they were out of the landship and the motorcycle was finally exiting line of sight. 

Popukar dug her little arms into Lappland’s side as they accelerated over a small hill before coming down in a small thump. Lappland shifted as best she could, making sure the girl was secure. Despite herself, her reservations, any logical complaints she could bother to come up with, she couldn’t stop the grin spreading across her face. This would be fun. Lappland gunned the throttle as she and Popukar rode off over the horizon. The wolf and kit were free then.

“Crepi il lupo.”

Notes:

Thanks to Xekstrin for always gassing me up and being the reason this even got done in the first place.

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