Russia; homeland to that of the Soviet, and by popular rumor, the place of Nicholas's heritage before he became the Guardian of Joy and Toys. Siberia was a wicked one, occupying the majority of the Asian north, and with plenty of contradiction and conflict. A perfect playground for the Spirit of Mischief.
True enough, the States were just as fluent on his demands. The die-hard habits of the recent generation of teens has given Ahlix more thrills and giggles than any chunk of Russian Rebels. But that was besides the point- as today, he was led here. A scent of misfortune and grief, like a cat to a mouse.
A gang of ravenous boys. Something that this Nation was high belief upon. It consisted of several individuals, planning to rival that of their enemies in a battle over territories. An old abandon warehouse; the perfect meeting grounds for delinquents; and a perfect stage for Ahlix.
"What we'll do, is me and Jake will go here," one boy spoke as he pointed on an hand drawn map. "Jake and I, but continue you mischievous thing..." Ahlix hummed from the shadows, leaving on top of his staff as blindfolded eyes stared down with a matching grin.
"Then Thomas and Big-Boy can block them here, and unless they want to fight about it, they'll have to give in! The fort will be ours!"
Oh how the small minds amused him... their lack of extensive detail and consequence. The others will most definitely have to give in... as Ahlix would have it no other way. Yes... corner them nicely, and I just may present your gracious plan with a surprise... The lights above seem flashy as ever... I wonder, do they believe in sweet Lord Dread?