Topic: Honor Among Thieves

Locke DVestavio

Date: 2008-02-16 21:43 EST
February 14, 2 a.m. Kwerejacek's, Marketplace District

The night was cold and mostly cloudless as Locke stalked from rooftop to rooftop through the marketplace. Occasionally, when the roofs were too far apart, he scaled down fire escapes, or windowsills, to the alleys and streets below. He spent as little time as he could on the street before making his way skyward again. Finally, he found his next target: Kwerejacek's. A smaller, up-scale jewelery store in the Marketplace district, previous walk-bys and walk-throughs suggested it had little in the way of security, magical or technological. He landed on the rooftop of the building that contained the store, heading for the back towards the alley and away from the street. After a few hops onto a few well-placed windowsills, he landed silently in front of the back door. He fished through the small black bag slung over his shoulder for lock picks and, finding them, used them to quickly unlock the door. He opened it swiftly and shut it behind him silently, pausing a moment to let his eyes adjust to the near pitch-blackness. A quick look told him he was in the office area. Checking to make sure every inch of his flesh was covered by his all-black outfit, he crept towards the front of the store.

Her steps were quiet as she moved behind the display case in the center of the room, gloved fingers running across the glass slowly en route. Her touch left little, quickly fading streaks on the surface, but no identifying marks. She was a dark-colored figure amongst the shadows, clad in fitted, soft leathers that offered mobility as well as concealment. Lock pick in hand, she crouched behind the case, and the lock clicked open readily to her deft touch. She grinned and quietly eased the glass door open. A bag was open and waiting for the pieces of jewelry that were carefully placed within. She worked quickly, skillfully, with practiced ease and amorality.

He stealthily made his way through the corridor, passing storage rooms and empty offices and desks that had long been abandoned by the salesmen, diamond cutters, and gem fitters that worked here during the day. After a short walk, he was at the door that led to the front end of the store. With a quick rush of air, he pushed the door open and shut it silently and swiftly behind him. Cobalt irises peered from behind that black balaclava that hid his face and hair (but couldn't hide the faint impression of pointed ears), sweeping the store for an ideal place to leave his "present." Eyes finally settled on the large, circular display case in the center of the store and- was that movement' Locke leaned against the back wall, watching and waiting, smirk hidden behind dark-colored wool.

A breath of air was all the warning she had (and perhaps all she needed). In a single, fluid motion, she closed the case as she sank down to the ground, splaying down onto her stomach and laying flat beneath her cloak. Her hood was down, but her dark hair masked her pale skin from sight and helped her blend in better with the carpet beneath. Watching through the glass and behind a veil of hair, she lay still, her breathing calm and even and quiet, even though her heart raced. She hadn't yet been caught. And even if she was"...Her hand crept a path beneath the cover of her cloak down toward her boot, and she silently pulled a knife free.

His bootsteps were barely, just barely, audible on the navy blue carpet. Only a sliver of moonlight, sneaking through the drawn curtains at the front of the store, illuminated his movements. Gloved hands idly fidgeted over the dagger and black jack sheaths on either hip as he approached. Slowly, carefully, Locke snuck over to the display case, before putting his own leather gloved hands down on the glass. He leaned over and peeked at what was lurking on the other side. The accent he spoke with seemed a bit coarse, but further conversation with the man would most likely reveal the extent to which he was faking it. His voice definitely seemed to smiling though, as did his eyes. "Evenin', mate."

She was found out, but the guards weren't being called. Was she in the clear, or did he fancy himself a vigilante" Of course, that mask of his didn't exactly suggest moral uprightness. Still, as she rose into a crouch, she brought her knife up slowly in a visual warning. In the darkness, she cut a rather androgynous figure, but the hair spilling back from her now quite visible face revealed nothing short of a woman. Her golden eyes were far too bright in the lack of light, her skin much too pale, lips too dark. She quirked a brow up at him and replied with a measured, "Evenin' yourself." He might have been amused, but she was clearly opting for something more cautious.

Knife out, he removed his hands from the display case and pulled back a little. He held his palms up, beside his face, indicating that he had no weapon, nor did he intend to reach for the weapons sheathed on his hips. "Easy with th' fife luv. Don' want to be getting claret all over th' rug, savvy?"

Locke DVestavio

Date: 2008-02-16 21:45 EST
She left it up anyway, but it seemed more as a reminder than a viable threat. At least for the moment. Her head canted to her right, opposite the knife, sending a spill of jaw-length hair back across her face. Smirking slowly, she ignored it. It didn't obstruct her view of him, and, as her hair slipped to the side, a pale ear poked out from the darkness. "Well, this is new." Her brow quirked a touch as she spoke, and she almost sounded annoyed. "Fancy meeting in a place like this."

It was nearly undetectable behind the ski mask, but Locke arched up an eyebrow anyways. Even standing still (and a bit straighter than normal), it was clear that he had the body of an acrobat. Lean muscles, not too much fat, and there was just...something about the way he carried himself. A certain joie de vivre that bubbled through every action he took. Even not taking an action. "I could say th' same thing m'self. Lookin' fer a quick pick-me-up this evenin'?" There was something casual, tossed-off in his tone that suggested he didn't have any expectations as to what the answer would be, or if there even would be one.

Her eyes narrowed a touch. She didn't so much as stand from her crouch, a strategic move (or lack thereof) to remain in a more defensible position. Her knife floated stilly in the air by her head, her other hand resting on the ground for balance. "What's it to you?"

He laughed quietly, glancing to his left and right to make sure there was no else there. "Ain't nothin' to me, luv. Like ya said, this's a bit of a surprise. Us two 'ol nappers pickin' the same place."

Raising up a bit, she made an obvious show of eying him up and down. "S'pose you do look fit to cause trouble. As long as you don't cause me any." With a deft little spin of the knife, she sent it back home to the sheath in her boot, but it served a two-fold purpose. The action removed the threat hanging in the air, yet displayed a small sampling of whatever skill she might possess. With a pretty smile and a pointed flutter of dark eyelashes, she wondered, "Won't be turning me in, then, I take it?"

He put his hands over his heart, as if her words had cut him to the quick. "Why ever would I do that' We're both in th' same boat here. Sneakin' about places we don' belong in." After she gave him the once over, he did the same, paying careful attention to what he could discern of her facial features: dark hair, gold eyes (which brought a brief involuntary shudder), pale skin, red lips. "It would seem that I have a bit of an advantage over you, though."

"Would at that," she agreed, coming fully erect. She stood at a level with him, perhaps a touch taller, but not obviously so. Taking a broad, balanced stance, she rested her hands on her hips. Though the plethora of dark clothing made her rather shapeless, the placement of her hands indicated otherwise hidden curvature. "S'pose I should take to wearing a mask..." she mused softly before breaking into a rather mischievous smile. "Or I could always kill you, but that's such messy business." Her tone was light in jest, but there was a cunning in her eyes that colored her words with a tint of gravity.

The Cockney was starting to slip away, replaced with something closer to what was (probably) his usual accent: a bit more clipped, a bit more proper, yet with a hint of lightness and melody resting below the surface. "I suppose you could do that, but there really is no need for that, mate. I'm perfectly able and willing to let you walk out of here, scot-free, with whatever loot you've managed to scoop into that little bag of yours. Won' even ask for a cut or nothing. I was jus' here to test my skills. Apparently, I'm a tad rustier than I thought I was." Locke shrugged his shoulders, a move that called attention to both the stiffness and the slight bulge around his left shoulder.

"Good enough. As I said, it's a messy business, and I really don't want to get into all that. I mean, murder on top of robbery' Can only imagine how much they'd increase the guard. B'sides..." Shifting her weight, she grinned a little more broadly. "Not every day you meet a fellow who catches you in the act and lets you get away with it." She kept the smile, but the mirth drained out of her expression. "Of course, if I find anyone hunting me down, I'll have to come after you. But I think you know that." Threat out of the way, she bent down to pick up her bag. The contents clinked lightly, and her voice took on a more blithe tone. "Testing your skills" What, got a big heist planned ahead?"

Locke DVestavio

Date: 2008-02-16 21:52 EST
He chuckled lowly, at the mention of the guards. "What, those bus nappers" Those grasshoppers" They wouldn't know th' difference between their ivories and their plates, mate." He folded his hands behind his back and put one foot slightly in front of the other, attempting to be bashful. "Who, me" A heist' That would be telling, wouldn't it?" He quickly winked from behind that mask. "Your secret's safe with me, mate. I've enough enemies as it stands, and you seem like a jolly good sport about this whole sordid situation."

With a sweeping gesture, she brushed her hair back behind an ear. "Oh, I think you just did. But don't worry. I won't tell. Not that I have anything worth telling. 'Some man dressed in black plans to break in somewhere and do something!' Very helpful. I'm sure security would increase tenfold everywhere." She smirked and tossed some hair over her shoulder with a bit of a flourish for good measure. "I s'pose I don't have much choice but to trust you. Already said I'd rather not kill you."

He lingered over each of his next words, delighting in how cryptic they were, and pleased as punch with the opportunity to banter. "Who said anything about it being here?" Another wink, and Locke's posture straightened a bit, as if he was trying to call attention to his body. He quickly resumed that evasive tone of voice, although his words were rimmed with frost. "I'd love to see you try to kill me. I imagine it would be a rather...interesting endeavor. Regardless of who came out on top."

"Suppose it could be, at that. And I never said it was here, luv." She smirkingly stole his word, but it seemed rather sarcastic, coming from her. "S'why I imagine no one would listen to me. I've got nothing to tell." Her hands lifted up in further display of lacking. "Nothing at all..." She gave him a knowing smile that ran counter to her words, followed by a wink of her own. "But really, I'd rather not have to try. To kill you, I mean. Don't enjoy the fight so much. Otherwise I s'pose I'd be an assassin or something, rather than your run-of-the-mill jewel thief."

He stepped away from the counter slowly, walking backwards away from her with his hands up and visible. He did chance a glance to either side of him, making certain the guard wasn't on the way (or inside already). The smirk underneath his mask clearly came out in what he said. "Oh, I think you would be surprised by what I'm capable of. Pleasantly or not. And I am certain that you are perfectly capable of holding your own. Assassination's such a dreadfully boring profession though." Eyes seemed to roll behind the mask at that. "What you do, now that's a fine art."

"Mm, none finer," she agreed with a grin, and while her words were light, they certainly were not insincere. She casually ducked under the break (not even bothering to lift the thing) and left the circular display case further unmolested. "Assassination sounds boring. Don't imagine I could stick with it unless the pay is outlandishly good. Even then." She shrugged, slinging her bag over her shoulder. Pausing for a moment, she smiled that knowing smile again. "I think you would be surprised by what I know." She made a show of making that smile fade, instead displaying a far too innocent expression. "Oh, but I forget. I don't know anything, so perhaps not." With a little smile, she impishly fluttered her eyelashes at the masked man in a further show of a faux lack of guile. The thief seemed to be enjoying herself, precarious situation notwithstanding.

Locke seemed to be trying to flutter what little pale eyelashes he had as well, but the gesture was nearly lost behind the black cloth covering his features. "I don't suppose we'll ever run into each other again, but supposing we do, do you have a nom de guerre I might use to address you?" He bounced a bit on the heels of his feet. Either he was trying to stay in a ready position, or he was expressing a child-like excitement at meeting a fellow thief.

"Trying to put me at further disadvantage, are you?" she wondered with a playful grin. "And the city's not that big, and you've seen my face, so it's entirely possible that we will and you'll recognize me and say nothing of it so I can't compromise you. But perhaps that's what you mean by us not running into each other again..." Her gloved fingertips trailed along the counter top as she wandered a few steps toward him. Her smile seemed sly. "I'll tell you mine if you tell me yours."

Locke DVestavio

Date: 2008-02-16 22:05 EST
He chuckled quietly at that, still standing in place an arm's length or so from the central display case. "I'm not so daft as to believe you will give me your real name. I hope that you will forgive me for not giving you my own. But if you should ever run into me in this guise-" He tugged on the sleeves of his black long-sleeved shirt for emphasis. "-again, you may call me Beinion."

She laughed aloud, if somewhat quietly. "Oh I may, may I?" Her fingers lifted to her mouth to try to stifle her amusement, but it didn't appear to work very well. "And you can just call me 'O Radiant One'." Smirking, she leaned her hip against the counter. "You've not given me any proof that you deserve that name."

It took a lot of effort, and some time to compose himself, but when Locke did, he was able to address her in a tone that betrayed no sarcasm, only barely concealed mirth. "I have no problem with calling you 'O Radiant One,' although that is a bit of a mouthful, wouldn't you say?" He couldn't help but jut one hip out, as he assumed a lean with his gloved hand against the glass counter top of the display case nearby, in imitation of her gesture. "And I wouldn't be a good napper if I betrayed my disguise."

"Oh, naturally not. Just making you aware that I don't believe you deserve that name. At least not yet. Care to prove me wrong someday?" Tilting her head, she tucked some hair behind her ear again. Most of it was quite long, but the jaw-lengthed tresses were prone to falling in her face. "And if we're going in that direction, then you might as well call me Valie." She grinned quite broadly at that. "At least for now."

"If you play your cards right, Valie-" He put extra emphasis on the word, lips curling into a grin underneath that balaclava- "maybe you will, someday, get to see my handsome visage." He stopped leaning against the display case and moved off to the side, giving her a free pathway to the door to the back area of the store. He swept a hand out towards it, as if beckoning her. "I suppose you'd better be on your merry little way now. The guard's incompetent, but I suspect the longer we stand here and gab, the more likely it is someone we don't want to see us stumbles upon us. After you?"

"Ah, yes. Was nice chatting though, Beinion." Just as he emphasized her alias, Valie pointedly stressed his as well, with just enough sarcasm and a questioning lift to her brow to suggest irony in his chosen name. Grinning, she pushed off the case lightly, moving with all the silence that comes standard with her profession, and positively glided past him toward the door. The silent grace of a cat mingled with a decidedly feminine sway in her gait.

After a cursory glance around the establishment, he followed after her towards that staff area door. Surprisingly long and smooth strides carried him after her, and there was a little bit of surprise in his voice that he couldn't tamp down. "I'm rather surprised that you'd go on ahead of me...that's rather trusting of me, isn't it?"

She shrugged. "Perhaps. Not really." Glancing over her shoulder at him, she smirked. "Again, I don't favor combat. I figure if I'm leading the way, I've got a head start if I need to run." Pointing a thumb over her shoulder, back at his, she added, "Besides, you're rusty. Me?" With a grin, she turned back away from him. "I like to think I'm in my prime. And like I said, I know nothing. So it'd probably be easiest for us to part ways and keep our confidences. Less messy, and you don't strike me as the sort who likes things to be all convoluted like that." She made a circular gesture in the air with her first two fingers as she said that.

"Fair enough," he said smoothly, as he darted beside her to open the door to the back room. "I'll wait until you are out the door until I make my own escape. And trust that you'll hold up your end of the bargain, and not scream bloody murder once you're outside. Sound like a fair bargain?"

"Scream' And call attention to my ill-gotten gains" No, I think I'd rather just slip quietly into the night. No mess, no fuss. Just a clean break." Inside the doorway, she turned back to face him. "Better practice up, Beinion. You look to need it. Good luck with that little job of yours." She grinned and winked and whirled back round, stepping out into the cold without waiting for his answer.

A few moments later, after giving her an ample head start, Locke made his way through the corridor again, before approaching the alley door. He opened and shut it quickly, before glancing around to see if he could spot his fellow thief. Unfortunately for him, Valie seemed to have vanished with the night. He quickly followed suit, climbing up a nearby fire escape to the rooftop and out into the darkness.

((Edited, adapted, and collaborated on from Live RP.))