Two Russian babies born.

One boy.
One Girl.

Less than two years apart.

One Parent in common.

The father that is.

Brooding ox of a man with an ample brush of hair like that of a blackest lion. Strong cheekbones. Curved nose and sharp jaw. Prominent and sloping forehead overhanging shadowed eyes. Pale in complexion and peppered with stubble. Somewhere in his 20s.

He is as handsome as rough, dark cherry wood.

The two women, one a prostitute and one a nurse, did not have room in their cluttered lives for humans that were not patients or clients, babies that would curiously finger lipsticks and tug stethescopes. There was no room for clutter, no margin for error.  

The two were indicted to a life that was to become equally, if not more cluttered.

The Man took his charges upon himself.
He vowed to find a woman who could help him raise his two finest mistakes. 
Rasputin had not been looking for any of the things that he found as a result.  

And so, with two rough starts and half a set of parents, Dmitriy and Ekaterina Zoubine came into the world.