[Medi]How the La Fortuna Got Its Name

[Wang Yao]

… He didn‘t have any money.

Wang Yao’s eyebrows furrowed, as he dug frantically through his coin purse. How was this possible? He had left China with enough money -- more than enough. Had he been pick-pocketed somehow? Lowering his head, he turned the silk bag inside out, shaking it fiercely, praying that something would fall into his hand.

Nothing.

The clerk at the counter frowned. Yao’s mouth gaped as he shook the purse again and again, before shamefully raising his head to look at the portly store owner, empty-handed. “Seems like you’ve got a bit of problem keeping a hold of yer money,“ the clerk said sternly, folding his arms.

“Shenme?” Yao asked. He didn’t have any problems with keeping money; quite the contrary, in fact. He never gambled, never once touched a cigarette or cigar, and drinking alcohol wasn’t really his first choice when it came to beverages. It was his understanding that engaging in such things got you into more trouble, than good, and he intended on telling the clerk this, when the man opened his mouth first.

“Listen, I know you Asians are used to getting things for super cheap,” he grumbled, giving Yao a less-than-friendly look. “But I’m not running a charity here. Now, if you want to barter that bag there --” he pointed to the red silk purse in Yao’s small hands “--then we can continue on with business. But if not, then I’d say there’s little more for us to talk about.”

The brunette looked down. While he didn’t entirely care for the dried fruits or meats that the store was selling, he needed food. He thought carefully, weighing his options, before deciding that parting with his bag, a piece of his home … it was just something that he wasn’t willing to do.

Gulping slowly, Yao looked at the clerk solemnly. “I sorry, but I must refuse, aru.” And with that, he turned, rather embarrassed, and walked out of the store.

The bright Mediterranean sun made him squint, as he stepped out on the street corner, wondering what to do next. Yao grabbed at his straw hat from behind his head, and tied it on, glancing up and down the cobbled streets, now seriously doubting his decision to leave Asia.

[Arthur Kirkland]

Renato was having a magnificent day. He was back in his homeland - well, the Mediterranean, but seeing as how long ago he had owned all of the sea and anywhere that had been his at some point in time still felt like home to him - the sun was shining, there were pretty women giving him smiles and flirtacious winks, and he was on his way to a small hideout of pirates who had sworn allegiance to Bey and were going to die by his hands very shortly.

To do so, he'd brought along his favorite sword - rather visible at his side, but he didn't want to wear anything heavy enough to hide it - a few guns hidden away under his armor, which was underneath a red shirt and a couple of explosives to finish the job. Yes, it was a small step in taking Bey down but to Renato, the longer the traitor got to sweat about his eventual fate... it was something that had to be done. Renato wanted to crush the man - to take down every bit of support he had so when the former Empire came to him, there would be no one there to help him or save him and Bey would see that his every attempt at coming out on top would be for nothing.

With a fierce grin and a happy tune hummed under his breath - something he remembered from long ago about fighting all day and pretty women all night - when something caught his eye. Someone... almost familiar, but he couldn't put his finger on it. The long-ish dark hair and asian features were very beautiful and gave the older Italian a reason to grin. The song he was singing tapered off as he wandered over to the pretty girl - maybe he could convince her to spend the night with him after he finished his job? Because turning a good song into reality would make the perfect end to his day.

"Well hello there, dear. What's troubling you?" he smiled charmingly down at the obviously upset lady. "Perhaps an old sailor like myself can help you?"

[Wang Yao]

Wang Yao jumped slightly at being addressed, before glancing up at the older man, an uneasy tingle running down his body. Did he know this person? He didn’t think he did …

Blinking, Yao studied the stranger’s face and physical appearance. He had to be the tallest man Yao had ever seen. Reaching a height of only five-foot four himself, the man stood well beyond that of the Asian and his siblings, which wasn’t hard to do, he supposed. Thick, curly hair covered his head, while two flyaway curls stuck out on either side. It struck Yao as all strangely, strangely familiar and he bit at his lips, while mentally trying to place the man.

Before he had time to reply to the man’s question, however, Yao’s eyes did another careful sweep, narrowing and widening as they landed on the stranger’s large sword at his side. Instinctively, he took a tiny step back, disliking the sharp weapons since his last encounter with a katana. “I … I fine, aru.” He stuttered, smiling slightly as he instinctively began moving away slowly. “X-xie xie.”

Breaking his gaze momentarily, Yao glanced at the street behind him. He could run, if he had to, though he hoped he wouldn’t be reduced to fleeing like an alley cat.

[Arthur Kirkland]

Renato couldn't help but chuckle at the way she acted so nervously towards him. It was endearing and reminded him that asian women were supposed to act like meek little flowers. His grin grew wider - he loved flowers.

It only took him a moment to realize that the lady was walking almost directly towards the pirate den he'd come to raze. Smile slipping off his face, he frowned, puzzled. Was she... could she be one of Bey's? That would be... disappointing. As familiar as she felt to him, he'd made a promise to wipe out every last supporter of Bey's.

"Well, that's alright then. But lady, can you answer me a question?" he smiled again, keeping a level head. "Do you live or work in that building there?" Pointing at the small, plain faced building, Renato hoped the reply was a negative. Her name was on the tip of his tongue...

[Wang Yao]

Yao’s eyes followed the Roman’s pointed finger, and blinked upon looking at the ordinary building. If it hadn’t been for the other man pointing it out, the brunette wouldn’t have even noticed its existence. He had no connection to it and he had certainly never stayed there; unconsciously he began shaking his head, before opening his mouth to spea-- wait? Had he just been called a girl?? Yao could feel a perturbed expression taking over his features, as he drew back his Chinese straw hat. “I’m a man, aru!”

Although begrudgingly, the brunette would be the first to admit he had more yin than yang in his appearance, and his right eyebrow twitched irritably at the thought. He was all too aware of his large doe-like eyes, porcelain skin and slim, feminine body, but surely this man should have remembered, no -- should have known he was a boy.

Yao pouted, feeling a bit put-off.

[Arthur Kirkland]

And that was what jarred Renato's memory enough to remember who the man was. This was the old chinese empire that had been a teenager while he'd been at his peak! What was his name? He'd met him only once or twice personally along the Silk Road. Yang? Wao? It'd come to him. "Whoops - sorry!" he laughed, scratching his messy hair. "Didn't mean to insult you, kid. But really - I gotta know. You live there or work there? It's real important."

Not that he would kill him now - if it really was the former empire, he probably was either reincarnated from a long time ago or still alive. And killing nations... well, he used to do that in the past when he was conquering lands in the name of his Empire, but it all just seemed kind of moot now as he wasn't one of them (technically) anymore.

[Wang Yao]

The Asian huffed slightly, still unhappy about being mistaken for a woman. However, he had more pressing matters to be upset about; namely the fact that he had no money and would probably starve to death in only a few days. He didn’t feel like he was exaggerating on that point either, he was already too skinny.

Wanting to get back on his way, Yao shook his head again, turning his gaze back on the plain, unpretentious building. “I no know who live or work there,” he responded flatly, wondering what the big deal was. It was just building, after all. Nothing overly special. He glanced back over at the Roman, his eyes narrowing with a judgmental stare. Drawing on his appearance, Yao guessed he was a sailor of some sort. He had that rugged look about him. “Is it a business of some sort?” He asked curiously. “Ship building or a sailing company, perhaps? I could use a job, aru.”

[Arthur Kirkland]

Renato grinned all the wider, equal parts relief and happiness. Good. He didn't even have to consider offing the other nation. He would, however, give the man a warning. "Ahaha - I guess they do - of a sort. And sure, you could join up with them if you enjoy backstabbing your comrades and committing atrocities normal pirates wouldn't even consider." His smile became entirely filled with sharpness as he remembered again his poor friends he'd had to leave behind. Renato very much doubted that they'd gotten any kind of proper burial. In fact, even as much as it enraged him, he would lay bets that their bodies were just dumped in the ocean and left to rot.

"That and it's my job and sworn duty to go kill them all and set fire to their building. So if you want to join them and you want me to kill you that's fine. But I'm going to warn you now..." his eyes went colder as he placed a casual hand on his sword.. "If you try and get in my way or go to the authorities with this information, you'll be on my to do list. No one - and when I say that I mean that - is going to get in the way of me avenging my brethren."

[Wang Yao]

Yao felt his eyebrows raise with alarm.
This other man was so serious, and battle ready -- his hand already poised to grab the hilt of his sword, and inflict a deadly blow at the soonest sign of treachery within anyone he came across. It all seemed so familiar. His attitude. His mannerisms. That stupid looking cowlick on the crown of his head.

Not only that, but there was a feeling of security surrounding the man. A feeling of closeness -- a strange, unspoken bond between them, that Yao couldn’t explain, nor will away.

“I not going to tell anyone.” Yao confirmed, as he turned his head once more to look at the building, wondering what sort of “atrocities” one would have to commit to earn this man’s wrath. “I no get in your way, either.” He glanced at the Roman from the corner of his eye, while puckering his lips, curious to know what he would do next.

Allowing his chocolate gaze to follow the man’s figure as he moved forward, Yao, too, took a step after him, prattling behind unconsciously.

[khemet]

It felt wonderful to be under the light of the Sun again, strong and hard as it was supposed to be, not thin as in northern lands. Alyia paced along the waterfront, watching the passersby. Strange to be free again, both of her slavemasters and of the asylum. She needed to find a life, though, a life that would bring her food and goods. Not point in looking for a husband, and it wasn't like she was a goddess anymore.

Tch... no, those were the other memories. As fascinating as a knowledge of the entire history of Khemet was, it didn't put food in her belly or coin in her pouch.

A glance distracted her, seeing a tall man intimidating a smaller, Chinese woman. No.. wait, that was a man. A feminine man, but a man. No woman had hips like that. Without thinking she drifted closer, her sharp features set in a neutral smile. "Good afternoon gentlemen. I hope everything is all right?"

Though she wore no open weapons - she possessed none - Alyia counted on natural chivary to diffuse the situation.

[Arthur Kirkland]

Renato went from looming and dangerous to all friendly smiles between one blink and the next, his natural Italian charm and cheer returning once he heard the smaller mans reply. "That's great! I didn't want to hurt you but I can never be too-" he paused, eyes flitting over to the pretty woman who had approached them, mild concern on her face.

She wasn't a police officer of any kind - the lack of weapons and her clothing gave her away fairly quickly as just a concerned citizen... and yet something about her was strikingly familiar. At first his brain and ancient memories supplied an answer - the image of this woman, wearing the foreign clothes and manners of one of the nations he'd conquered... Egypt he though the modern name was. She'd been bold and determined not to bend to his rules... he remembered executing her, regretfully.

But that wasn't all that flashed through his mind. More recent memories of that dark place and pain and this woman's face as they ran for freedom...

Shaking his head to dislodge the dark memories, he tried to summon his usual bright smile with little success. "Ah, yes, pretty miss. Everything is fine."