Bangkok! Oriental setting - and the city don't know what the city is getting...

[chesspolitik]

There was no better way to drift off into dreamland than in the arms of his beloved Lex after a full day of chess, cajoling Aeneas to drop the pieces he'd stolen and all of the other things that made up his daily routine, or so Anatoly thought. His life before Tabula Rasa seemed a distant memory; he truly could not remember a time he'd been happier. He was where he wanted to be at long last.

All too soon, the sun hit his eyes and he groaned in protest, muttering under his breath. He rolled over, pressing his face into his companion's shoulder and slinging an arm around his waist. It took a few moments for his sleep-addled brain to realize the body next to him was much smaller and softer than it should have been.

At first, he was inclined to pass it off as the island working its cruel trickery again, but something felt off. Lex, whether he was a man or woman, had a scent that was uniquely his. This scent... this scent was not his and yet it was haunting familiar.

He opened his eyes and gasped in horror. He'd gone to sleep on Tabula Rasa and woken up in his hotel in Bangkok. Every detail was just as he remembered, from the appallingly patterned wallpaper to the ostentatious plush carpeting. And there, by his side, was not the man he'd come to know and grown to love, but the woman he'd loved and lost and left - Florence Vassy.

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Anatoly and Florence Thread

[hungarianheart.livejournal.com]

Florence murmured sleepily, reluctant to join the world of the conscious so soon. But Anatoly was awake, or nearly so, judging from the movement on his side of the bed, which meant she needed to get up.

"Give me a second, Tolya, and I'll get up and get the coffee started," she mumbled, reaching blindly for his arm. "You want the shower first?"

[capable-of.livejournal.com]

Lex woke up alone.

That was his first and main clue that something was very wrong. Not that Anatoly wasn't an early riser, but Lex still usually awoke first out of some Luthor need to be in control, even first thing in the morning. Not that he minded, since he'd grow to love stroking the Russian's curls across his forehead as a manner of waking the other man up. It was soothing and peaceful and one of the best parts of Lex's day.

Once his brain could focus on Anatoly's absence, he realized that the island was gone as well. Instead, it had been replaced by an unfamiliar hotel room, in rather tacky colors. Definitely not a place a Luthor would be caught dead in at home, so Lex had to wonder where he was, especially since his last memories of home were of crashing into the ocean in a disabled plane.

There was something else off about the situation that Lex couldn't quite put his finger on until he got up and did a little investigating. He had no wallet or ID of any kind, but clothes similar to what he'd worn on the island were hanging in the closet, thankfully well made and well fitted. The room was oddly dated in appearance and the Chinese newspaper waiting outside his door explained why. The date was apparently 1980 and the place was Bangkok, Thailand. Some how, the island had sent him to when and where Anatoly had been just before arriving on the island.

Lex's brain went into overdrive with theories and idea but one thing was certain. He had to find Anatoly. He knew there was a good possibility that the events of the island might not have occurred yet for Anatoly, so he would be a stranger to the man he loved, but it was a risk Lex was willing to take. He didn't know much about what had happened in Bangkok but he wasn't about to let Anatoly suffer through it alone this time. If he could help towards a better outcome, he would damned will try his hardest.

Once he was showered and dressed, Lex went down to the lobby and in his professional Luthor persona, introduced himself as an American press agent for the chess tournament and inquired after the whereabouts of the Russian player and his party. He breathed in inner sigh of relief when he heard that they were staying in that very hotel but that the player himself had just left for an interview at the local TV station. He asked the receptionist to call him a cab and place it on the American delegation's account. He smirked when his request was accepted without a hitch and moved to the taxi stand to wait.

[onceihaddreams.livejournal.com]

Svetlana had been waiting in the lobby of the hotel all morning, waiting for Anatoly to come down. Most of the time had been spent taking deep breaths to prepare herself to see her estranged husband, while the rest was reminding herself why she was here; that she was doing this to better the lives of herself and her children.

And not for Molokov, despite what he thought.