mallow_logs | [closed] Moats and boats and waterfalls

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[closed] Moats and boats and waterfalls

WHO: Big brother (

yuukaihan) and little sister (

petitvoleur).
WHAT: There's something in the air, and it's making them feel rather STRONG.
WHERE: Highcrest!
WHEN: April 8th

Neither of them seems to have noticed it, yet. They both heard the announcement from the Queen, but what exactly it meant is still unclear. This means that the two thieves are doing their daily business: scouting out things to steal, things that are left vulnerable. It's midday, meaning most people are out of their homes, going about their business. In a quiet residential part of Highcrest, Emanuelle and Kurama have zeroed in on a jewelry box, foolishly left out in the open, visible through a high window in the side of a house.

They've already made sure that nobody's in the immediate area, but they'll need to act quickly. Emanuelle points up at the narrow window.

"Give me a lift. I can wiggle through it."

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[Immediately, Kurama drops to one knee, laces his hands together, and holds them out as a step for her. She's lighter than he is, he's stronger than she - the obvious choice is for him to boost her through the window.

(He'd worry a little if she weren't so slim - but her hips are probably narrower than his shoulders, built as lithe as she is, so there's little danger of either of them getting stuck.)]

Here. Go quickly.

[She turns so her back is to him, reaching up on tippy toes so that her fingers just graze the window sill, and then places her right foot behind her, firmly in his palms. She bounces slightly to gain momentum, and then gives him a verbal cue to lift her.]

Now!

[At her word, he pushes up against her foot, keeping his arms tense and lifting with the strength in his legs, instead. But almost immediately, he can feel something is wrong.

She's too light. He's always been able to lift her easily, but this is different - this is like she weighs absolutely nothing - and he scrambles to try to take it back somehow, to grab her foot before it leaves his hand, because he has no idea what's going on, or what the consequences will be.]

[Normally, she's very good at remaining silent while breaking and entering: her small physique means she's very light on her feet, especially once he trained her to be aware of her own noise. But she can't help but let out a screech as Kurama essentially sends her flying through the window with his "boost". There's a loud crash as she tumbles into the bed on the other side of the room, and immediate pain all over her body—especially her head, which she grazed on the top of the window going through. She struggles to make sense of what just happened, dizzy and sore, and through her confusion notices that she appears to have taken a chunk out of the window frame. With her head. The headboard behind her is also cracked.]

What—

[Cursing under his breath - for various reasons, the least of which is not the fact that they've just made a tremendous amount of noise - Kurama leaps for the windowsill, catching it with his fingertips and hauling himself up far enough to peer over the edge.]

Sho-

[In his haste to see if she's all right, he nearly uses her real name - not, he supposes, that it would matter much here, where no one knows them. Still, better to maintain their story.]

Emanuelle! Are you all right?

[It will occur to him, in a moment, that holding himself up by only the tips of his fingers is much easier than it should be. But for now, he hasn't noticed.]

[She swears in a very unladylike manner and forces herself to scramble off the bed, take stock of her surroundings better. She's bruised, for sure: on her foot, where he tried to grab at her, definitely on her head, and where her back and side hit the headboard. Nothing broken, though, or sprained.]

Fine...I think. What in seven hells happened?

[She approaches the window, smoothing down her attire as she looks up at him. He's not showing any sign of strain, and it doesn't look at all difficult for him to hold himself up there.]

I don't-

[He starts to answer, but then his words trail off as he notices her looking at him, and his attention is suddenly drawn to the fact that he's holding himself up with no effort at all - and that his fingers are, in fact, slowly gouging shallow divots into the windowsill.]

Oh. That's...new.

[Almost as soon as he notices it, though, his muscles seem to remember that they're not made of steel, and his arms begin to shake.]

[Her eyes are comically wide as she cranes up to see what he's staring at. With a start, she realizes it's probably best if they get out of here as soon as possible.]

Go. I'll catch up with you.

[Eyes on the prize as ever, she loots the jewelry box, though her mind isn't on treasures at the moment. It still seems a shame to leave without a pocket full of trinkets, though. It's surprisingly easy to jump up on the dresser and shimmy back out the window, and make a quick escape. It's not at all tiring to run, and she kicks up quite a cloud of dust with each pounding footfall. When she catches up to Kurama, she feels like she's just taken a leisurely stroll in the park.]

Something is wrong here.

[He's staring down at his hands, as if wondering whether or not they're still his.]

Yes.

[They've crossed the entire district in no time at all, and he's not even out of breath. This is clearly abnormal.]

[She looks up at the sky, lips pursed, like she's expecting the answer to be somewhere hidden in its vastness.]

Might this have something to do with the Queen's message?

[He'd almost forgotten about that - and it takes him a moment of consideration to even recall what was in the message.]

I suppose. This would seem to qualify as..."odd".

[His mouth twists a little as he says that. He's not sure he particularly likes being unable to control his body.]

[A snort.] An understatement.

[Casually, she reaches into her pocket and pulls out a string of pearls, inspecting them gingerly so as not to crush them into dust.]

Do you suppose this is permanent?

I certainly hope not.

[He reaches out for the pearls, reconsiders, then bends and scoops a small rock from the ground. For a moment, he holds it in his hand, thinking, then carefully closes his fist.

Nothing happens.

Nodding, he opens his hand again, considers for another moment, and then closes it once more - and releases a handful of dust to patter onto the ground.]

Interesting.

[She watches him carefully, with interest, and raises an eyebrow when he crushes the rock.]

Are you able to control it?

[He just gives her that look - the one that says he's found a particularly good teaching opportunity, and that he's not giving her any information she can figure out for herself - and bends to scoop another rock off the ground, handing it over to her and taking the pearls with his free hand.]

[She sighs, hands over the necklace, and accepts the rock in return. It feels flimsy in her hand, something she usually wouldn't describe a rock as. She closes her fist around it, but lacks the control at first, and it crumbles easily. She lets the resulting sand sift through her fingers, and looks up at him, shaking her head.]

Let me try again.

[She bends again, picking up another rock, and tries again. Her brow furrows slightly in concentration, and this time as she tightens her fist, she exercises great self-control, stopping just short of where she feels the rock begin to crumble in her hand. Her long fingers shake just slightly with the effort, but it remains whole when she opens her fist again.]

[He watches the process, his face blank. When she succeeds, he nods, but reaches out to take the rock from her hand.]

You're thinking about it backwards. This isn't the natural state of your body, obviously. You need to remember that. That way, you won't constantly need to think about controlling yourself, but only about occasionally being stronger when you want to be.

[He closes his hand, crushing the rock again, but then switches his attention to the pearls in his other hand and clenches his fist almost lazily, carelessly - but the pearls stay intact.]

[She watches him with some alarm, because despite growing up in the lap of luxury, she's come to value the little trinkets they steal. She nods, slowly. She thinks she understands, but then she's always been a quick learner.]

I see. Give them to me.

[It's a demand that carries a lot of weight; she's adjusted remarkably well to the life of a common thief, but occasionally there are little mannerisms that, were one to look for them, would easily hint at a higher upbringing.]

[He raises an eyebrow at that, but hands them over readily - most of the trinkets and baubles he steals are meant for her, anyway. What use does he have for them in a place where they cannot be sold off?]

As you wish, sweet sister.

[To anyone else, that phrase would sound innocuous enough - but to her, he means it as a warning.

Careful. Remember who you are now.]

[She catches the warning, and her only indication of acknowledgment is a short exhale, a huff of air. She takes the pearls in her hand, gingerly, because they really are quite exquisite, and remembers what he told her. This time, she thinks of it as a reserve of strength, something present but not always necessary. She exhales, and it's a controlled measure so that as she closes her fingers around the pearls, they close easily and without the crushing pressure of before. They remain intact, and it elicits a smile.]

[He nods, watching her. He's always appreciated how quickly she learns, how well she follows his lead. She's bright - very bright, in fact, probably a benefit of all those private court tutors - but more than that, she seems to like learning, even if the things she's learning are not, perhaps, what her family had planned for her.]

Good. With this...new development under our control, we may be able to find a way to use it to our advantage.

[She huffs out a laugh, stashing the trinket back in the folds of her cloak with the rest.]

I should think so. I'm no weakling, but it will come in handy during our escapades, I'm sure.

[He grins.]

Indeed. I'll try not to launch you through any more windows, though.

[Her hand skims gingerly over the crown of her head, where there's a sizeable and rather painful lump developing, and she grimaces.]

I appreciate that more than you understand.

[Suddenly, he realizes that in all the confusion, he hasn't taken the time to look over her injuries, and he does so now, his hands gentle as they explore the various lumps and bruises she's developed.]

Will you be all right?

[She shrugs, wriggling a little bit to keep him from fussing over her.]

Nothing that won't heal. The furniture took more damage than I did, thankfully.

[He thinks about telling her to stop squirming so he can get a better look, but if it were anything serious, he imagines she wouldn't be quite so feisty, so he gives in and steps back.]

Good. Should have figured that hard head of yours would come in handy someday.

[She narrows her eyes just slightly at him, wanting to wrinkle her nose but not wanting to look like a child. She's not really mad, of course.]

Charming, aren't you.

[He laughs and shrugs.]

I have never claimed to be anything but what I am.

[Her expression softens at that.]

And I appreciate that.

[Despite the life she leads, she can't stand people who claim to be something they're not.]

[He sketches her a little bow in response.]

[She watches him with a wry smile, and then reaches out for his hand.]

Come on. Let's find something shiny to pocket.

[He laughs a bit at her insatiable desire for shiny things, but takes her hand easily, lacing their fingers together.]

A fine plan, sister.

[With his free hand, he moves to tug his hood up over his hair, but a thought occurs to him, and he pauses, glancing over at Emmanuelle.]

We ought, perhaps, also find something to darken your hair again. It's beginning to grow back in at the top.

[She hesitates just a moment too long, reaching up to finger a few stray locks near her face.]

Right.

[She can't seriously expect him not to hear that hesitation, can she? A frown creases his brow as he asks:]

Do you wish to let it return to its natural color?

[She makes a sound of uncertainty.]

I thought perhaps since we've nobody to hide from here, it wouldn't hurt.

[He considers that for a moment, then shrugs. He supposes he understands a bit of vanity - after all, his own red hair is quite distinctive, and he could have dyed it dark on several occasions.]

I suppose you're right. Still, it will look...rather odd, growing back in, I should think. It may be difficult to keep people from asking questions.

[She purses her lips, thinking.]

I could keep my hair covered. And once it grows enough, I could—I could cut it.

[There's just enough trepidation in her voice that she's glad she's with Kurama here. He's the only one she trusts to know that she has emotions, that there are silly little things she concerns herself with.]

[His gaze goes rather fond as he looks at her, but only when he's relatively certain she's looking away, and can't see it.

He hums thoughtfully, then says:]

Perhaps there is another way. If we dye it again, but a slightly lighter color, it would not look so strange as it grows back in. Then, every time after that, we could do the same thing - use slightly less dye so it is just a little bit lighter. And as it grows out, we could cut it, but you wouldn't need to cut nearly as much. It would take a fair amount of time, certainly, but you would eventually get back to your natural color.

[Slowly, her expression clears as he explains his idea, brows coming unfurrowed gradually. It is silly to worry about her hair so much, she knows, but it was the one part of her old life she actually liked. She pulls her hood over her hair, finally, smiling.]

My darling brother, you never fail me.

[Internally, he breathes a small sigh of relief as he pulls his own hood up - he's sure he'll never admit this to her, but he's rather fond of her long hair, and the way it slides so easily through his fingers and drapes over her bare shoulders at night.]

Hopefully, I never will.

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[closed] Moats and boats and waterfalls

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