Topic: The love letter

Keirra Owens

Date: 2016-05-06 09:17 EST
It was the blackest hour, most had been asleep after a night of drinking and partying... The rogue moved through the night, probably too sober for her own good. She never drank before a job, this was no exception, even if nobody put her up to it. Her eyes were the only thing that showed, the rest of her body was covered in black. Black jacket, black pants, black beanie, and a mask covering her mouth and nose. She was in full on sneak mode, not making a single sound as she moved through the camp. There was a second bag slung over her shoulder, and gloved hands gripped the strap.

Easy, Ko-Ko... Her body was unsteady, craving the toxins that she'd been feeding it the past months. She felt herself get shaky but she wouldn't quit, she'd keep moving. Get in, get out. No dragging Saila in to bail you out this time... You got this..

Keirra looked around, a few people moved by and she stayed far away from the fire's light. She rolled beneath a camper, belly crawling her way through. She found the desired camper and moved towards it in a crouching walk. Boots made not a noise as she moved forwards. Gloved hands reached into the bag, pulling the book out and dropping it down gently on the step of the camper. There was a note written in it, addressed to a one Mr. Vlad.

Just as quickly as she snuck in, she worked on sneaking back out. It was only after the little rogue was clear of camp, that she pulled off the gloves and dropped them on the ground. "Balls... I need a drink."

David Evans

Date: 2016-05-06 09:53 EST
It was early morning when he woke up. A dream, not a bad one, had woken him with a start. It was pleasant, airy, even. It disturbed him and he reached for the bowl next to his bed. Lighting it and breathing in the acrid smoke deeply. Thumb slid off the carb and he inhaled the last of it before he choked back the smoke. Standing up he wandered over to the window. Letting the smoke out, it was barely visible after being held for a moment, and it was only his warm breath that fogged the window.

Everyone was asleep and so he pulled on his hoodie and wandered to the door to the camper. There was a certain leader of men he wanted to see. Stepping outside he kicked the book and looked down. His journal. Was it the one with the goings on of the werewolf. Quickly he crouched and grabbed it. A sigh of relief, this wasn't the one. That one must be in the bag from Ian. The book was opened and covered in...Oh huge shock. The massive skank filled it with that she knew best.

Page after page was turned and he laughed. If she would only stop calling him Vlad, he may have even liked her! A shrug of shoulders and he finally noticed the note, it was the only thing written in words and he raised both brows. He took it in and shook his head. "Damnit." Opening the door to the camper with his elbow, he dropped the book onto a grocery bag on the table. Side of wrist used to turn on the water and wash his hands, which, were now itching. Wonderful. Poison Ivy. Into the bathroom he went to cover both hands in rubbing alcohol so the rash wouldn't spread.

Right back out, after using a plastic bag to open the book and snapping pictures of the note in it with his cellphone. Mac needed to see this, they needed a better watchman, and Dave was pretty pissed that Ian had banged the Barlow rogue. That was inviting trouble to bed, and they all knew it. Ian was growing on Dave, but this was a set back for sure.