sʜᴏsʜᴀɴɴᴀ ᴅʀᴇʏғᴜs (
petitvoleur) wrote in
mallow_logs2013-04-26 11:34 am
Entry tags:
[OPEN] ⧼ If you'd like to be pick-pocketed ⧽
WHO: Shoshanna ⧼
petitvoleur⧽ and YOU!
WHAT: She's out doing what she does best: stealing from unsuspecting citizens. You just might be next!
WHERE: She'll be sticking to Highcrest, Whitewood, Lochwell, and Mallow Hallow.
WHEN: April 26th.
She appears as casual as anyone else wandering around the districts today, although it's obvious she's from Highcrest, considering she's wearing a cloak, a long dress with boots, and a leather jerkin. To raise her hood would only attract suspicion, and that is something one doesn't want when one is out with the intention of cutting purses and picking pockets. Occasionally, she might bump into someone, and if this happens, she apologizes very sweetly and earnestly, and sends her unsuspecting victim on their way.
After she raids their pockets with swift hands, of course, and when she continues on her way, more often than not it's with a purse of gold and silver, or a wallet, or whatever trinkets one might be carrying on one's person. It's quite a lucrative trade, if not strictly legal, but it's obvious from the gleam in her eyes that she enjoys it because of, not in spite of, the thrill she gets from doing something risky.
WHAT: She's out doing what she does best: stealing from unsuspecting citizens. You just might be next!
WHERE: She'll be sticking to Highcrest, Whitewood, Lochwell, and Mallow Hallow.
WHEN: April 26th.
She appears as casual as anyone else wandering around the districts today, although it's obvious she's from Highcrest, considering she's wearing a cloak, a long dress with boots, and a leather jerkin. To raise her hood would only attract suspicion, and that is something one doesn't want when one is out with the intention of cutting purses and picking pockets. Occasionally, she might bump into someone, and if this happens, she apologizes very sweetly and earnestly, and sends her unsuspecting victim on their way.
After she raids their pockets with swift hands, of course, and when she continues on her way, more often than not it's with a purse of gold and silver, or a wallet, or whatever trinkets one might be carrying on one's person. It's quite a lucrative trade, if not strictly legal, but it's obvious from the gleam in her eyes that she enjoys it because of, not in spite of, the thrill she gets from doing something risky.

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So that's the only reason he's tailing her, he tells himself, as he tracks her carefully along her route, watching her work. His hood is pulled up, to conceal his bright hair, and his green eyes are bright beneath its shadow. He might have to have a conversation with her later about noticing when people are following her, but for now he's content to hang back and keep a careful eye out, ready to help her should she require it.
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There's a small crowd forming up ahead, and she smiles to herself. Someone's gone ahead and created a distraction for her. She edges along the perimeter of the crowd, on the pretense of getting past it, slipping her hand into pockets here and there and fishing for gold.
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He watches her angle for the edges of the crowd with some confusion, though. If she's looking for a good place to pull things from distracted citizens, a crowd is one of her best bets - better to throw herself into the middle of the fray, where everyone will be brushing up against one another constantly, and no one will think twice about sudden contact.
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It's subtle, but as she moves, sliding fingers into pockets here and there, she glances upward now and then, scanning the area, looking for tell-tale signs of someone who might have been tailing her. It's a bit of a clumsy way to go about this, but she's like a calf: she has to stumble around a bit before she learns to walk properly.
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Still, he can't change directions, or he'll be too noticeable, so instead, he simply makes his way through the crowd in the direction they were originally traveling, then hops up onto a nearby roof to get a better view. He is, of course, now behind Emmanuelle, in the one direction she isn't looking, and it's easy enough to track her movements through the crowd.
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As she exits the crowd, substantially richer—not that it means much here, but she's okay with the fact that they've essentially become magpies hoarding trinkets—she decides to try a different tactic. She pulls her long, glossy hair out from where she's got it tucked beneath her cloak, and takes a moment to make her expression as worried and afraid as possible. Then, she approaches a man selling produce alongside one of the buildings.
"Excuse me, sir, I've lost my younger brother. He was here but a moment ago, but I can't find him anywhere, and—"
Her words are lost in a sob as she presses a hand to her eyes, and it's to her credit that it doesn't sound forced in the least. The man draws closer, concerned, inquiring as to the appearance of her alleged younger brother, and where he was last seen, and putting a fatherly arm around Emmanuelle. This gives her the perfect opportunity to press her face into his shoulder, distraught, and worm a hand down to his thankfully baggy trousers pocket.
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He crouches in the shadow of the chimney, listening to Emmanuelle spin her tale. At the mention of a younger brother, he can't help but laugh softly, and he edges carefully towards the end of the roof and peers over, far enough to see her work her magic on her unsuspecting victim. He has to appreciate this particular tactic - it's one advantage she has over him, being a woman. There's not much Kurama can do on this particular front - unless he picks his targets very well.
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She pulls away, hiccuping and wiping imaginary tears from her eyes, looking distraught. "Thank you, you've been very kind. I—I'm sure I'll find him soon. It's likely he's hiding from me, the rascal." She has to fight to keep the grin from her face as she turns away and feigns searching the crowd for her imaginary younger brother.
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It never hurts to have an extra pair of eyes looking out for you, after all.
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Normally, he's a passive observer. Today, however, a cloaked figure just happens to bump into someone not ten feet away from where Reno's standing, and his sharp eyes don't miss the slight of hand that leaves the cloaked figure in possession of a shiny new pocket watch. The woman - he can tell she's a woman now, from the glimpse of her figure he gets when she backs up to apologize - most likely presumed that the alleyway was empty, but it was clear as day from his angle what had just happened.
He grins, flicking his cigarette to the ground and sliding off the wall to trail after her, letting her get a ways down the cobblestone street before he closes in behind her.
"Not bad, for a rookie."
Okay, so he doesn't really know if she's new at thieving or not, but he's going to take a wild guess.
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I'm not a rookie.
[Not really, anyway. She's no master thief, but she's shown she at least has an aptitude for her trade, and she makes fewer mistakes by the day. Whomever this red-haired delinquent is, he can mind his own business.
I'm just...gonna leave this here for later.
When Reno finally draws Emmanuelle's attention, Kurama can't help but shake his head - she'd picked up on him, but not on a stranger? Perhaps knowing he's tailing her has made her slightly less aware of her surroundings - a dangerous habit to get into. He can't help the grin that tugs on the corners of his mouth, though - he's interested in seeing how this particular encounter plays out.
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If she notices the pick-pocket nearby, it's only in a passing glance.]
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And she's still seeking answers.
Moving along the different shops and vendors, Chloe's attention is only for objects of sense--and use--which may seem odd for an older teen. The jewelry she passes doesn't get a single glance. Emmanuelle might notice that Chloe doesn't seemed worried at all about stolen valuables. There aren't any money bulges in her tight jeans pockets, though there is an outline of a switch-blade. Otherwise she only has on a cotton shirt and thin, zip-up sweatshirt--also with empty pockets.
No, the thing she's clutching in her hand has no real monetary value to her--it's something much, much more. A thick amulet hanging on a long chain along her neck. It's a deep amethyst in color, and seems to give Chloe a large amount of comfort.]
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So she follows with renewed vigor, trying to figure out the best way to slip that pretty thing from around the girl's neck.]
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Another somewhat odd behavior is that Chloe will seldom look up to make eye-contact with anyone. She'll seemingly keep her distance without overly appearing to be doing so.
A necromancer doesn't wish to be outed in a busy area by making a wrong move and speaking with the dead, after all.]
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She wonders if she can get low enough to pluck the amulet from around the girl's neck. Maybe, if she had a stick, or something...]
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Moving along, Chloe stops to admire a wolf carving. It was small--a rough approximation of the animal--but it was a wolf all the same. A smile of delight crosses her face, and she takes a step closer to the booth. The dark wood it is crafted from reminds her of a certain surly someone, and a bit of a smirk crosses her lips as she wonders how Derek would react to receiving such a thing.]