1965-06-08 - Two Orphans
Summary: A Russian and a Cowgirl meet in a garage, a kinship is kindled.
Related: None
Theme Song: None
Amber Yuliya 


So without Julie in the workshop, Yuliya has snuck in. Not to do anything untowards or set up pranks, but to make things without getting questions about why she's making. Her usual business attire has been replaced by a white blouse and a knee length skirt. A small diameter pipe sits nearby, crudely welded onto a metal baseboard with a large spike underneath. The young Russian appears to be making some sort of spring out of discarded wire that she's found in one of the bins and is trying to figure out how to join it with a discarded piece of metal. The radio's also turned to pop, and she's humming cheerfully to the music that's playing.

*

As yet another working day comes to a close, the distinctive rattle and roar of the Craftsman can be heard coming up the drive from the front lawn. And, just above the din, the distinctive guitar growl of Johnny Cash's 'I Walk The Line' coming through the tinny speaker of a cheap transistor radio. Pulling the machine into it's parking place under her shack, Amber hops off and starts heading into the garage.
"Hey, Diz, you in here?", she calls. "Think that mower's developed some manner of ailment, you got a minute to help me check her out?"

*

Yuliya jumps in surprise by the voice calling out for Dizzy, resulting in the spring she was working on flying out of her grip towards Amber. "Cyka blyat," she grumbles to herself as she straightens up and tries to figure out just where the spring went. "Julie is not here at the moment," she offers to the other woman, sheepishly. "It is only me, Yuliya. I do not think you want me looking at it, unless you want it either exploding or being turned into something dangerous." She then moves to try and at least cover up what she's been working on. "Have you seen a small spring?"

*

"Oh, heya, Yuliya." Amber smiles, doffing her hat politely before pulling it off. Hats indoors, so rude. "Eh, no, I think that's probably not what the Professor intended it for.", she chuckles. "As for blowin' it up, hell, I can do that myself.", she snerks. "Small spring? Eh, think I seen somethin' go flyin' when ya jumped just then.", she offers, looking around for a place to safely stash her hat. "Think it went over yonder.", she says, heading in that direction.

*

"I think the Professor would revoke my visiting rights," Yuliya admits with a smile and a soft laugh. "I actually don't want to disappoint him, and, well, most of my friends are here." She looks a little sheepish again. "If you have seen where it went, that would be great if you could get it. I don't want to have to make another. It's the fiddliest part of what I'm trying to make for when you people go into the field." She pauses for a moment and purses her lips. "No, it's not something dangerous. Just a flare launcher with a trip wire attachment. It's always good to know that no one is following you."

*

"Yeah, found that to be of more than a little use more'n a few times my own self.", Amber nods, "Now, it had to've gone under…", she says quietly, kneeling down in front of a workbench to peer underneath it. "Yep, if you could pass me a stick or somethin', I can snag her for ya.", she reports, turning around. "So, you don't live on the grounds.", she notes. "Okay, and I mean no disrespect or anythin else untoward by askin', but…you ain't a mutant are ya?"

*

Yuliya takes a few moments to find a long screwdriver, which she then moves over to offer to Amber. "They always seem to shoot off and land in random areas," she comments with a soft laugh. She does lean down a little to try and get a look herself. "No, I don't live on the grouds. Oh, mutant? Well, depends on how you define it. I do not heal fast and I do not have the strength or speed that you all do. I'm gifted though." She takes a deep breath, and then sighs. "My birth father was one. I… I just inherited his ability to find weakpoints in armoured vehicles and fortified buildings then, well, you can imagine."

*

"Gotcha.", Amber replies with a nod. "So not full-blown, but got a gift or two. Oh, thanks.", she says, accepting the screwdriver and using it to fish the spring out from it's hidey-hole. "There ya are.", she grins, standing up and handing it to Yulyia. "Eh, can't say as I can imagine, but.", she shrugs. "Don't reckon it's my business to anyhow. Live in the city, then?"

*

Yuliya smiles brightly when the spring is returned. "Thank you, Amber!" she offers cheerfully. "I have a small little apartment in the city. It's not much, but a place to sleep when I am not working." She makes her way back across to where she was putting together her flare trap. "Not as nice as the one I had in Paris, but still nice." She then glances towards Amber for a moment, looking curious. "Have you travelled outside of the United States or have you always stayed in this country?"

*

"Yer welcome. Hey, you thirsty at all? I got drinks up in my shack, ya want one.", she says, jerking her thumb in that direciton. "Nothing alcoholic, fraid to say. Don't want t' give the young'uns ideas.", she adds with a wink. "Paris, wow, sounds swanky.", she smies. "Eh, spent a month or so in Mexico.", she says, finding a workbench to lean against. "Didn't seem that much different 'sides the language". she notes. "Was anglin' for a job at this ranch up in Alberta 'fore I came here, then, well..", she shrugs amiably. "Prob'ly for the best, hear tell it gets cold as /hell/ up there come winter."

*

Yuliya seems to consider the offer of a drink, and then offers a nod of her head. "Actually, I am a little thirsty," she offers in agreement. "I do not think that beer would hurt them at all. But then, different country, different way things are done. I would like to visit Mexico and other southern countries. I have heard that Cuba is very nice." She then laughs at the mention of winter. "It cannot be that bad with their winter," the Russian comments. "The debil heat and humidity, that is one reason I would not go much further south than this. Too many mosquitos and jungle."

*

Amber says, "Hell, it ain't likely gonna stop 'em from gettin' liqour anyhow, if either of our past experiences is like to say.", Amber chuckles throatily. "But, to be fair now,", she adds, "You're idea of 'cold winter' an' my idea of the same's apt to be quite different.", she smiles. "Yeah, heard Cuba's mighty nice, you got the coin. Well, it was 'fore that idjit took it over.", she sighs. "Part of the south I'm from's mostly srcubland to out an' out desert. Heh, one of the first uses Daddy had for what I could do was burnin' off the tumbleweeds used to pile up against our back fence in the winter.", she chuckles. "Oh, right, drinks. 'Scuse me, miss, won't be a tic.", and with that, she lopes back off to her shack."

*

"Them taking over Cuba is no different than having a company asking the government to do the same," Yuliya comments to Amber, still being cheerful as she says it. "But if there is one thing I have learnt, it is always the run of the mill people who get caught in the middle of the fighting end up the worst off." She offers a shrug. "Who knows, maybe the take over will be for the best? If education and social programs can be improved, then maybe they will have better living conditions." She does look surprise at the mention of desert and scrubland. However talk about tumbleweeds does make her raise a brow. "Oh, so you a are cowgirl with all the tumbleweeds? I bet they are annoying."

*

Amber returns a few moments later with a bottle of Dr Pepper for herself and a big glass of ice water for Yuliya. "Cheers.", she says, offering to clink drinking vessels before once again using the blunt end of her bowie knife to prize off the cap. "Heh, well, Southwest Texas, miss. Cowgirl's kind of your only option.", she chuckles. "And yes, tumbleweeds are a royal pain in the backside.", she nods. "Fun to burn 'em, though." she smirks. "Eh, I dunno, maybe you're right. Hell, hope you are, if nobody else's sake but the Cubans.', she sighs. "But, well, if I'm completely honest with myself, never did have much use for governments or ideologies. Just seem to get folk killed.", she shrugs.

*

Yuliya accepts the glass of ice water with both hands, and when the toast is offered, she does raise her own glass up to clink it with Amber's. She takes a small sip and purses her lips. "That must be dangerous, with all the snakes being blown around in the tumbleweeds." Her brow furrows again. "Burning tumbleweeds with angry snakes…" She trails off for a moment, giving Amber a rather thoughtful look. "You were not brought up to show blind support to the government and its agents? So no common good?" She actually sounds a little confused. "Or just live your life and don't do anything stupid to attract government attention?"

*

Amber clinks glasses. "Heh, believe me, the snakes bug out right quick, the fire starts.", Amber chuckles. "Funny how fast they can move if they got to.", she notes, swigging at her Dr Pepper. "Eh…well, I don't rightly know how t' answer that one, miss.", she sighs. "Maybe once upon a time, I did.", she shrugs. "But stuff just kinda went /wrong/, ya know? Momma an' Daddy got killed, state sent me to some kinda half-ass girl's home.', she sighs. "Home, shit, they ran the place like it was a damn /jail/, like it was our fault we were orphans. Didn't take much a' that 'fore they and I agreed to disagree. Just kinda been hobo-in' about ever since. Take jobs as they come, keep Bertha's gas tank full an' support body n' soul. If those idjit's hadn't tried t' rob the First National back in New Mexico, prob'ly still be out there."

*

Yuliya arches a brow and purses her lips for a moment. "Another ward of the state," she comments with a smile. "I guess that's a thing we have in common. Orphanages. I really hope they didn't serve gruel for breakfast, too." She goes silent for a few seconds as she seems to consider something. "It sounds like you certainly made your own way with things. You didn't have to fall in line." She looks thoughtful and then shakes her head. "I was adopted when I was six. I would have prefered to stay at the orphanage than end up with who I ended up with. Ask a question, get hit. Can't recite the party's manifesto? Get hit harder. Wipe blood on the wall, get beaten." She considers Amber once again. "You know, orphans should look out for each other. If you need anything, I'll try to help you where I can."

*

Amber winces. "Damn…", Amber breathes, obviously trying to wrap her head around that kind of thing. "I'm sorry you had t' go through all that, miss.", she says sincerely. "That kinda thing ain't nowhere close to bein' right. Please tell me you took some manner of horrifying revenge.", she adds with a bit of a smile. "Or if'n you ain't yet, but plan to, put my name at th' top of the list for a partner.", she grins ferally. "People do that kinda thing ain't people."

*

Yuliya offers a shrug of her shoulders. "No reason to be sorry. You were not the one who did it," she comments. "My revenge is to stay as far away as possible and try to stay away as far as possible. A man like him you do not cross. If something happens to him, someone else gets promoted and takes his place." she then laughs and shakes her head. "Oh, I'll keep that in mind if I ever decide to take a walk through Lubyanka Square. I just wouldn't give us a long survival time." She then pauses for a moment. "I talk a big game at the moment, but no doubt I'd just end up back under his command again if I even tried."

*

"Yeah, prob'ly th' wiser option.", Amber nods, chuckling ruefullly. "Still, it's fun to imagine.", she winks. "Just happy you got away from 'em. Bet they're not happy about it.", she notes. "Best watch your back. Like you said, us orphans gotta stick together. Ain't nobody else linin' up to do it.", she says, polishing off her Dr Pepper. "So whereabouts in Russia are you from, miss?"

*

"Well, technically they think I'm still with them. I know their game, I grew up playing it," Yuliya admits softly. "I'm just doing my own thing and trying to keep them from finding out. I want to cut all ties, but… I am terrified to do it. You've read about the defectors who've been killed" At talk about where she came from she looks thoughtful. "You could say Leningrad and Moscow. It all depends on where my father was needed at the time." She smiles faintly and raises a hand up to brush away and stray strand of hair from her face. "I… I should get going," she mumbles softly.

*

"Yeah, I get it. You gotta do what's right for you.", Amber replies gently. "You ever need me, just holler. I'll be there.", she says sincerely. "Yeah, it's turnin' late.", she nods, moving to snag her hat. "Hey, you like the 'Twilight Zone'?", she asks suddenly. "There's a station here replays it in about n' hour. Could rustle us up some supper, ain't gormet, to be sure, but it's tasty. Mac n' cheese an' some kinda Polish sausage.", she adds.

*

Yuliya pauses and considers Amber's offer. "I have watched it," she admits. At the talk of supper, she then smiles brightly, her momentary depression suddenly vanishing. "Oh, I can cook if you don't want to!" she chimes cheerfully. "And don't worry, it won't be poisoned. I've never poisoned a dish yet! Uh, just don't ask about drinks." A sheepish smile again. "Another long story." She starts to make her way towards the door. "Russian or French?"

*

"Russian or French, whut?", Amber chuckles, following Yuliya. "Um…not to be unkind but…", she says, pausing to smell herself. "Best you do the cookin', I smell like the wrong end of a sheep. You ever ate sheep, miss?", she asks, pausing to snag a jerry can of gasoline. "Believe you me, outside of th' wool, it's the best damn thing to be done with 'em."

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