Yippee-Ki-Yay, Mother Russia

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Name: Lilya Danilovna Mikel

Age: 24

Overview: Lilya knows the value of being quiet and the first thing people often say about her is that she is “awfully timid.” While she is definitely more of an observer than a participant, and is prone to being quite shy, she enjoys being in social environments, especially around people she deems to be exciting or enjoyable. Her personality and self-esteem are resilient and she isn’t prone to beating herself up over the little things, but that doesn’t mean she doesn’t set the bar high for herself.

A constant over-achiever, she finds pleasure in a job well done. No matter how small the task, she’ll immerse herself entirely into it until she has deemed the outcome acceptable. While initially quite quiet around people she’s unfamiliar with, Lilya can open up and be quite the talkative and bubbly individual. Caring within an inch of her life, Lilya will give and give until she had nothing left to give. She has a fantastic sense of humour, if not one that’s a little crude, and loves to both laugh and make others laugh. She’s plenty smart, but also uneducated, as she had to drop out of secondary school two years from graduating in order to work to help provide for her family.

With her family living on less than ten thousand roubles (less than two-hundred dollars) a month, work was first to everything else. The family lived in a small one-bedroom apartment just outside of St. Petersburg, the place Lilya believed would be her home until forever. That was not the case. Pressured by her mother to attend a meeting for what had been described as foreign, wealthy diplomats looking for young, beautiful romance, Lilya reluctantly agreed.

There, she met a man by the name of Robert and in exchange for offering her the entire world like a pearl in a clam; all he wanted was companionship and a mother to his children. She was hesitant at first, but when he had promised he’d send three hundred American dollars back to her family every month, she was ultimately driven by hunger and desperation to agree. [/bg][/bg]

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Name: Joshua Carrigan

Age: 28

Overview: Joshua is the polar opposite of his brother in every way. Where Robert was always content taking the easy way in life, Josh was determined to earn whatever he got. While Robert could be considered the more successful of the two, there was never a moment where Josh regretted doing things the way he did. In terms of personality, Josh was always the more considerate and compassionate.

Robert, very much an archetype of their father, the Alpha Male and excessively controlling, never thought much of anyone but himself and that self-centered personality made relationships a thing of difficulty. But Robert always got what he wanted, somehow... and many times this resulted in strife between the two brothers. The pair grew apart, falling out of communication until Robert came to Josh with a rather desperate situation. More as a brother than a lawyer, Josh felt compelled to help, but under the stipulation that Robert straighten up...

Unsurprisingly, with the case settled, Robert was back to his old ways and he and Josh's relationship dissolved almost entirely. Unfortunately, tragedy would bring them together again when their father passed, his dying wish that the brothers come together to settle his affairs down in Florida. A year later, nothing settled, Josh remains hopeful that Robert will come through, but his most recent and disastrous endeavor hasn't left Josh with much in the way of faith. [/bg][/bg]

 
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The story so far: Read it here
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It irked him... the woman's behavior. Almost more than it should have. But there was something so grating about assumptions... The fact that she'd seemed to automatically take from what Josh said that Lilya was not only unable to speak English, but that she was too stupid to hear a question at a natural decibel. Luckily, Lilya handled it with a practiced grace and patience that Josh wasn't accustomed to seeing and the smile returned as the woman led them inside to look at the invitations. The smile was gone as soon as he saw the absurd amount... and for a moment he was sure that Lilya was going to fall apart.

But recovering well before he had, she asked a question that brought a grin to his lips as he shook his head. Oh, she was brilliant. She was brilliant and clever. And Robert deserved every dime she charged to him, "They look great to me, Kid. Hell... Get the programs, too. Robert said nothing was too much for his girl, right? We'll take envelopes, too. Do you do calligraphy?" It could bounce back negatively on Lilya. Josh was aware of that, and it was dangerous ground to tread - but in so many ways, Lilya seemed to need it.

To need that shift in power, to need to feel like she could take charge and handle something. To fight back, even if it was just Robert's bank account she was tackling. She seemed to need the victory, and he was willing to let it go, knowing Robert wouldn't be stupid enough to make too big a fuss as long as she appeared to be cooperating. He'd get over it, if he thought he'd get his way in the end. The dress, Josh knew, had to be spectacular... but also spectacularly expensive.

It had to make a statement, and that statement was that whether he thought he was winning or not, Lilya wasn't going to be pushed around. And Josh was more than willing to let her do what she needed to do to get it out of her system - to feel like she'd accomplished something, even if it was just something small. Things were going to get ugly, and he didn't want to see her fall apart - the best way to prevent that was to give her as many small wins as he could get her. "Ha!" Making a face, Josh shook his head, giving her a gentle nudge, "Not happening, you. Let's just see those dresses hmm?" Looking to the shop attendant, he smiled charmingly, "No budget... as I imagine you've already guessed."

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“Oh, happening!” she argued with a grin. Josh had told her that she should find some small way to entertain herself, well, trying to convince him to wear 'best man' undies seemed to be doing the trick, because that smile didn't seem false at all. It seemed bright and warm, so broad that the dimples in her cheeks were beginning to form and the corners of her eyes were crinkling as that smile took over more and more real estate. “Well, right this way. We keep all of our designer labels over here,” the woman explained, flipping through them, “You just tell me when to stop, hun.”

Truthfully, Lilya was only looking at the price tags as they flipped through, not the actual style of the dresses, so when she finally found one with a pricetag that made her stomach quiver, Lilya stopped the woman and pulled it off the rack. It was a bit too long for her, but the size in the waist should have about fit. The saleswoman had already assured her that all dresses would come with tailoring.

“Would you like to try it on?”

“Yes, please,” Lilya answered. Might as well, right? Might as well see what Robert was spending his money on. The two women stepped into the changing room and the saleswoman helped Lilya slip out of her sundress and into the gown. In parts where it sagged too big, she put in pins, just to give her the feel of how it would fit once finished. She hadn't really cared what the dress looked like until she had seen it on.

Glancing up at the mirror she just paused a moment, staring at her own reflection as she dragged her hands down her abdomen. Her hair was falling in loose curls around her face, only lightly painted with a hint of blush. The dress was white, but in a soft tone, so as not to look too harsh under the lights.

“Shall we show the best man?” The saleswoman asked, but had already pulled back the curtain and was coaxing Lilya out. She was barefoot and the dress was too long, like predicted, but the creamy white sheets of the silk dressed slipped on to her shoulders, peppering her body like soft, sensual kisses and enjoying every curve. Like a lover, it seduced the senses and conveyed with the utmost skill the art of pleasing. There was no intricate, over-the-top beading or gaudy flowers... it was just a well-made, simple dress that spoke to its cost. “This dress looks like it was made for you,” the woman sighed, “How do you feel in it, hun? What does the best man think?”
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A friend loveth at all times
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and a brother is born for adversity.
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If he were honest, Lilya was the type of girl, with the type of body that one could swathe in burlap and she would still look stunning. Robert knew his business, at least in that aspect, and Josh couldn't fault his brother on it, either. Aesthetically, she was a prize, and it was impossible for anyone, let alone a warm-blooded, heterosexual male not to notice. The difference, he supposed, between him and his brother was that he understood her beauty didn't need to be masked beneath plastered on make-up and overtly provocative outfits. In jeans and a t-shirt, face scrubbed clean she would've been a knock out.

But watching her step out in the bridal gown... There was something about it. The white, casting a halo of natural light to perfectly pale skin, the cut of the waist and the bust line... the subtlety, the lack of flair or embellishment. Her hair was down, her face bare and as he rose slowly out of the chair he'd occupied, Josh stared at her without reservation, shaking his head in what could only really be described as awe.

Smiling faintly as the saleswoman spoke, though not removing his eyes from Lilya, Josh nodded, "Oh, I definitely approve..." But a beat later, realizing the connotation of those words, he cleared his throat, rubbing the back of his neck with his palm, "I mean, it looks great. Robert'll love it." Robert wouldn't notice. He never had an eye for detail - not even when the details were the most important things in the world...

But if nothing else, she would stand out on her wedding day with everyone else present, "You... you wanna try anything else out?" He asked, "Or you think this is it?"
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If designers had ever pictured a woman when making their designs, surely the man who made the wedding gown currently clinging to Lilya's form had her pictured. It clung to her beautifully, but not provocatively, just enough to define her womanliness without flaunting it. She had carefully tucked her hair behind her ear and gave a shy smile, as she enjoyed the way the dress felt against her skin. She felt beautiful in it and not in the same way Robert wished her to be beautiful. Expectantly, she glanced up to Joshua, awaiting his answer, but she didn't need him to respond. She could see it in the way his expression changed and it caused her smile to fan out across her face.

“You think?” Her smile shined like the stars in the sky with no bright city lights to dim them. It was like the sun opened its eager light to shin about her, only brightening her perfectly aligned teeth. “I love it,” she admitted, “I do not care what Robert will think of it. I'm sure it'll be not good enough, but I do not care.” If she had to marry him one way or another, she wanted to at least enjoy her dress, if nothing else. She had taken Josh's words dearly to her heart, but she wouldn't hold him accountable for anything. She believed him when he said he would help, but there was probably only so much he could do. He was filled with a kindness that seemed as genuine as it did endless: as big as an ocean.

“I think this is it,” she agreed, having to physically peel her eyes away from him so she could glance back at herself in the mirror and then to the shop keep, who smiled warmly, probably because Lilya was agreeing to buy one of the most expensive dresses in the store.

“We'll take your measurements honey and have it altered to fit perfectly, come on, come on.”

Fifteen minutes later and Lilya stepped out of the dressing room again, this time back in her little sundress but still wearing the same smile Josh had given her earlier. It was only when she remembered that they were that much closer to having to go back to Robert's estate, did her smile falter for a beat. The down deposit was made on the dress and they were instructed it'd be ready for pick-up in a week's time.

“I guess that is that,” she said, glancing to Josh as she stepped away from the counter, “What is next on your little agenda?”
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A friend loveth at all times
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and a brother is born for adversity.
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It was a dangerous game they were playing, and Josh knew it. It felt wrong, encouraging her to effectively turn against the man she was supposed to be marrying, but there was so little good about the situation either way, and in the end Lilya was her own woman, capable of making her own decisions. That's not to say it was a little unnerving to hear her so boldly proclaim that she couldn't care less what Robert thought. She was a good kid, and he genuinely wanted the best for her, but if she wasn't careful... if he wasn't careful, he'd be looking at a repeat of the last time, and that notion was disturbing, at best.

Rubbing the back of his neck, he nodded as the attendant pulled her aside to measure her, and tucking his hands into his pockets, he settled back into his seat to wait. Sitting there, he had to consider just what exactly he was getting into - and why. Because as nice as it felt to think he was doing this for Lilya, the fact remained, this was personal, too. But as good as it felt, sticking it to Robert, Josh knew all too well how smart his brother was, and playing things too loosely, showing their hand too early was dangerous.

When Lilya returned from the payment counter, he rose and raking his fingers through his hair, gestured to the door, "Next is lunch. I'm starved, and I need to do something that doesn't involve lace or fleur-de-lis, before I crack." Taking her gently by the elbow, he led her from the boutique and back out to the car, opening the passenger door for her. After she'd slid in, he followed suit behind the wheel and a few minutes drive later, they pulled up outside of a small, homey looking diner. Killing the engine, he glanced over to her, "Listen, Lil. All things considered, the last thing I wanna do is tell you how to live, or what to do. And I know I approached this the wrong way... The impression I gave you... but we need to be careful. The way you present yourself in public... He.... he has eyes, everywhere. And if someone were to overhear something they shouldn't, I... I don't know, honestly, how that would bounce back on you but it wouldn't be good. I realize what I'm asking you isn't fair. Considering what I told you already, I know that. But until we can get around this? Until we can find genuine, legitimate stuff to use against him, kid... you have to play the part. The devoted, heartsick bride-to-be. He's your world... your whole world. People have to see that... Robert has to see that. You think you can do that, and let me handle my part in the meantime?"
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After spending what felt like a lifetime being pinned and clipped into the dress, the woman who had been helping her finally helped her out of the dress, took down her information, and told her the dress would be ready in exactly two week’s time. Thanking her, Lilya let herself be guided by Josh as he gave her a subtle tug on the elbow towards the door. Obediently, she followed, lacing her fingers together in front of herself as she strolled, giving a small nod in agreement when he mentioned lunch. As if on cue, her stomach clenched and gurgle with hunger all its own, and she chuckled softly, brushing her fingertips across the front of her print dress. “I suppose I am hungry,” she agreed wholeheartedly.

They made their way back to his truck and Lilya clamored in where she had been before, settling into the large bucket seat and idly picking at a loose string from the hem of her dress as he began to speak again, this time his voice taking on a more serious tone. She hated the sound of it, causing her eyes to immediately avert away as if expecting some kind of punishment. What he said didn’t really surprise her, and her facial expression softened and relaxed again as she turned her eyes towards him and gave off a tired smile. “Josh,” she began, her voice equally timid as her appearance had just been, “I don’t actually expect you to help me,” she replied honestly.

“You have said very many nice things and you have made my day absolutely lovely and I thank you for that, but I expect you will drop me off tonight and I probably won’t see you again. That is nothing against you,” she paused, scratching a hand through her hair and flipping it back away from her face, “But one thing Robert has made clear is that no one can help me. Not even I can help me,” she spun the bracelets around her wrist. She hated them. They were chunky and ugly, not at all something she would have chosen to wear on her own had her circumstances been different. There were times she actually really enjoyed being around Robert—he could be warm, friendly, loving… he could treat her well. She knew it, because she had seen it, but then there were times he was ugly.

The times when he would smack her over the head with the flat of his hand or grab her tightly by her wrist until the delicate skin bruised. It wasn’t a gesture of love or friendship, it wasn’t some weird ‘couple thing,’ he hit hard and it stung. “But I know what to do to survive,” her fingers fell away from her bracelets to push her hair back again and give a shrug, “But if you really are going to help me like you say, I promised I can do that,” Even if Robert’s mind kept changing about what he wanted her to do, what he wanted her to be, and how he wanted her to look.

“But it doesn’t matter if you can’t. I understand. I made this choice for family and I don’t regret it. I did what I needed to do for them to survive, too. So… lunch?”
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A friend loveth at all times
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and a brother is born for adversity.
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Sighing, tugging the keys from the ignition, Josh shook his head, "One thing you need to know about me, Lil. I am nothing like my brother. I make it a damn near religious point not to be. My whole life, I've been in his shadow... but that was his choice, not mine. He's always needed to be the best, to be better than me, and while I don't exactly care, it's hard to escape the repercussions anyhow. I won't pretend like part of this isn't personal. But I promise you... no matter what Robert says or does, I am not going to leave you to deal with this on your own. You're strong. Stronger than I expected, I'll be honest. But no one deserves to go through something like this alone." Reaching out, he cupped her jaw, his thumb brushing the apple of her cheekbone, "You have my word, okay?"

Pulling away, he opened the door and slipped out, "Now then. Lunch."

It wasn't large, in terms of Olive Gardens, set in the corner of a row of shops, but the inside was warm and bright and smelled heavenly. A hostess, dress all in black grabbed a hand full of menus and lead them from the hostess stand to a booth in the corner, where she let them know in a practiced drone that their server would be there shortly.

Nodding, Josh leaned back in the booth and when the woman had disappeared, he turned his eyes to Lilya, frowning softly, "Her name was Amanda. College girl, Florida University. A few years ago, Robert met her at an office party. She was interning as a secretary. A few hours of chatting and a few too many cocktails. You can probably imagine where things ended up. Most of the time, these things sort of just wrap up neatly. One night stand - a quick explanation that they're just not right for each other and the girl's out of his hair. Didn't see it coming, when I got the phone call the following morning. Robert, begging for help. He claimed it was an accident... They'd both had a little too much to drink and apparently the girl took some pills. Took a fall down the stairs. She was dead, and Robert was a mess. He was sure it was gonna fall back on him."

Pinching the bridge of his nose, Josh sighed, looked away, "...I pulled some strings. Kept the media out of it. I brushed it, spun it, to make that poor girl look like a mess, to paint Robert as the good Samaritan, trying to keep her out of trouble - All to save that son of a bitch from what I thought would be some bad publicity and an inquiry. Went through the trial, stood by his side and nailed it... Nailed the prosecution's argument. Robert got off without so much as a slap on the wrist. A few months later, we're sitting around his parlor, going over some paperwork... Out of the blue, he tells me he did it. He pushed that girl down the stairs. Wasn't an admission of guilt, some broken confession. It was like... like a joke to him. He was proud of himself, that he'd gotten away with it. Double-jeopardy, I dunno if you know what that is. Basically says a person can't be tried for the same crime, twice. It's how you see scumbags like O.J. Simpson running around free as a bird. And it's the only piece of legal jargon my brother happens to know.

"It was... the lowest moment of my life, and there are times, even now, when I can't sleep at night without seeing her face. That was the last the time I spoke to him, until our father passed away. This whole mess... it was supposed to be in and out, dealing with dad's will. But I guess I'm not getting away from him that easy..." Reaching across the table, he gripped her hand, "You need to be careful. I need you to promise me that you will be careful. You hear me?"
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His fingers caught her jaw but there wasn’t any pain. Instead, he just gently coaxed her head so her eyes were facing him and brushed his thumb across her cheek. It was almost affectionate—warm, friendly, comforting. Lilya wasn’t really a girl who cried all that often; she had grown up with tough parents who loved her, but didn’t spend time kissing bruised knees. She didn’t cry then either, but she felt the uncomfortable twang settle in her chest all the same. It felt like he was hiding something. Well, perhaps not hiding something explicitly… but like he was warning her against something bigger than she could ever thought possible.

Just as she had thought, the information spilled out of him the minute they sat down to lunch.

It was a nice place and immediately, Lilya’s features relaxed into a generous smile. Her eyes were bright, lit up in a way that only a smile could as she inhaled sharply the hunger-inducing smells of American-Italian cuisine. Despite everything, she was excited. They were whisked away to their corner booth and immediately she began to wiggle in her seat a little, even the drone of the hostess’s bored voice couldn’t get her down. The conversation that was brought up could, though. She listened attentively, all the air catching in her chest as her heart screeched to a halt in her chest. Every word Josh spoke stung, only fueling the fire that burned inside of her. The fear sat on her like a pillow over her mouth and nose.

Enough air was getting past it, allowing her body to continue functioning, but it was crippling all the same. There wasn’t an adult she knew that could handle this. Her mind searched for a way out of the pain and fear. She was scared, justifiably so, yet it was always her that was told to amend her ways when it came to Robert. Inhaling sharply, her lungs collapsed and she sat back against the booth seat, her hands in her lap, fiddling again with the bracelets. In small slivers, the deep purple skin between them caught her eyes. She had believed that it was going to end at that—some yelling, a few good hits now and again. Those were all things Lilya could live through and endure, but they… no, Josh… Josh was discussing death. That wasn’t something she could ever recover from.

He stole her hand and her eyes snapped up again, returning to reality and swallowing down the feeling of nausea that crept up from her stomach forcefully. “I—uhm,” she didn’t even know where to begin with the truth he just revealed to her. “He’s hit me a few times,” she admitted, “But nothing like that. I try and behave, but I am never doing it right.” She had tried, she always did what he told her to do… but it was never good enough, never right, and never fast enough.

“I can’t die in that house, Josh. I can’t.”
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A friend loveth at all times
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and a brother is born for adversity.
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It hadn't been his intentions to tell her about Amanda. Really, he'd have been perfectly content never bringing it up again, but it wasn't fair. As hard as it was to hear, to speak about, it wasn't fair for Lilya to be in the dark on this. It would change things, but she needed to know what sort of man Robert really was. What he was capable of. She needed to know the depths of his depravity, and Josh needed to know that she was prepared...

He wasn't prepared, however, for her small confession and as the words left her mouth his grip slackened on her hand and he straightened, his jaw tightened, tensed until it hurt. She'd denied it, earlier. But then, she'd probably assumed it was a fluke then. But to hear her say it aloud, to hear her admit that Robert had laid hands on her...

"...I'll talk to him." He hissed through clenched teeth, "Whatever he knows about the law, or thinks he knows, he's still got some healthy fear of what I could do to his reputation. And I will destroy him, if I have to. He touches you again, you let me know, and I Will take him apart." As it was, he felt like ripping the man to shreds personally, just knowing...

"I'm sorry, Lil. I'm sorry that you got mixed up in this, and I'm sorry that it wasn't what you expected it to be. But I promise you... you will make it out of this. I won't let anything happen to you." Lifting his menu, more because it was something to do with his hands then because he was hungry, Josh looked it over, frowning softly, "Hell... I need a drink. You?"
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Lilya had never wanted to tell Josh about Robert because they were brothers, and she knew she would be heartbroken to hear about her sister having done something horrible. Still, the news didn’t seem to overly surprise Josh—at least not when compared to this Amanda person he had dealt with in the past. In her lap, Lilya was now fiddling with her napkin anxiously because she didn’t know what to say or do. On one hand, she knew she had gotten herself in to this situation. She had chosen—with the strong, strong encouragement from her mother—to ultimately come to America. Truthfully, she hadn’t had any expectations in the first place, and she was in a position of both being terribly afraid for her own life, but grateful that Robert was keeping his word and helping her family.

And that there was the problem. He always read her mail before she was allowed to, but of the few letters she had seen from her family—they were doing well. Her mother had gotten the health care and medicine she needed and was improving, her sister scored the highest mark in her class on their first math exam… remembering those words caused a lump to grow in her throat and the never-ending battle to continue: what was the best thing to do? Suffer so her family could prosper, or prosper so her family could suffer? It felt like an impossible decision to make for any one person.

Those steely grey eyes of hers wandered back up to meet Josh’s, offering a tired smile. “I have your number,” she confirmed, “I will try and get my passport back, too. Thank you—for caring. Most people would probably say it was my own fault I’m in this position, and maybe they are right, but people make mistakes. Thank you for caring” As Josh lifted his menu, she went to do the same, and just in the nick of time too seeing as their waitress had sauntered over, detailing the specials before concluding with the question if she could take their drink order. His words meant everything to her—I won’t let anything happen to you.

“That is dangerous now,” she said with a dry laugh, “You’re trying to drink with a Russian. You have never drunk with a Russian before, have you?” her sense of humor had at least remained intact, the warmth returning to her eyes as she flipped through the menu quickly. “Yes, please, may I have a vodka tonic please?” she looked up to the waitress and gave a smile.

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