Forum Thread

Til gave a sigh of relief, sinking back down to the floor and opening his book once more. Flipping through the pages, he again found his place, but stopped reading after a moment. Slowly, he raised his hand and tried again; "Ignis." A single spark leapt up from his palm, but flickered out of existence as soon as it left his palm. Sighing, he continued to read.

Sou made a little yelp as the horse began to move, hands darting forward to brace the young boy and prevent himself from falling off. It was a whole new experience, riding on a horse and he watched with wide eye wonder at how fast the landscape was going past. Very rarely did he go to the city through the front gates often using the servant designated door instead so this was all new and exciting for the boy.

---

Isolde tilted her head to the side curiously, studying them for a moment. "No apology required," she smiled. A shame she didn't have the best hearing ever; she hadn't caught what they had been discussing prior to her own footsteps' halt. Doing a quick scan of the library but seeing no one aside from a little blink of light in a corner, she turned back to the two. "Carry on," she waved, stepping back and beginning to head once more to her quarters. With a grin and a wink, she added, "Wouldn't want to interrupt any special moments." She didn't know whether they actually had anything between them, but if they didn't, that just made it funnier, in her opinion.

---

As Peregrine crept through increasingly more decrepit alleyways, she came closer to the source of the shouting, a mass of people came into view. She had no clue what this was about, but few townsfolk were out and about like this anymore, afraid of drawing the attention of their new ruler's soldiers. Reaching up once more to make certain her hood was drawn all the way up, she finally made her way into earshot, her lithe form shrouded by her tattered cloak. Beneath it, her teal eyes darted from person to person, and what she saw caused her to rest her hand on the handle of her dagger beneath the folds of fabric. A man lay on his back on the ground at the center of the throng, a young woman pressing a blade against him throat. She didn't like this, but she couldn't turn back now. Best to try to blend in.

---

Escaviler gulped as Cardinal's grip on his arm tightened. "We'll be going then," Cardinal said icily, dragging Escaviler along until they were completely in the hallway. "You. are. on. deaths. row." "I'm aware," he said quietly, "but I think you should consider my plan first before you completely cut off circulation in my arm." She released him, and he rubbed the spot ruefully. "Fine," she said stiffly. "Really?" "Fine, I'll listen to your plan." He grinned. "Excellent!" "Keep your mouth shut for once!" "Sorry."

They made it into the city, the villagers clearly avoiding them. The few that normally wandered around were already running inside, slamming their doors and windows shut. It was quickly becoming a ghost town.

Roxxane let him up, getting to her feet. The man stood up ruefully, announcing, "Your new Head Theif!" and gesturing to her. The crowd nervously clapped, unsure what to make of this deadly woman. "Your name?" "Fenir." "Welcome to the job of Assistant, Fenir."

---

Head Thief? Peregrine repeated in her mind with a hint of fear. Maybe... maybe she shouldn't be here. What if they noticed her? She had all of her wages from that week with her. Leaving would draw attention, though! Coolly, she took a step backwards into the shadow of an overhanging roof, further hiding her face, which, regardless of the situation, was always a good thing, in her mind. If they left soon, she could just stand still and hope she wasn't noticed, then return home. Yes, that was what she would do. And if they don't leave? her mind said. Then we have a problem, don't we? she responded, silencing her thoughts. If she could just. stay. calm.

---

Fenrir stood up, saying bitterly, "So, what are your first orders, Jungle Queen?" Roxxane rolled her eyes, slipping the dagger into a holster on her thigh. "Oh please. That was my father's name. I get to pick my own nickname, don't I?" Fenrir grit his teeth. "What. Do. You. Want. To. Be. Called." Roxxane tapped her chin, then pointed at Fenrir. "Spider." "What?" "Spider. Or, Y'know, Spider X, whichever one you want." "So be it," he grumbled, then raised a fist. "To Spider!" he roared, and the crowd of thieves cheered back. "Now," Roxxane said, "Back to your jobs, those without get 'em from Fenrir." The crowd began to mill and break apart, and Spider started walking towards Peregrine's hiding place.

---

Uh oh. So standing still was no longer in the cards. Alright. So jobs, jobs. What sort of jobs did a thief do? Peregrine felt like he may not realize that she was there, but when he did, and inevitably he would, not making eye contact would be suspicious, but if she did it might draw attention, offend the man, give away that she shouldn't even be there in the first place, or a combination of all three. Maybe she'd be better off to just nod in the direction of the thief lady and appear to busily stride away in the opposite direction, preferably before he reached her.

As she walked cooly away, trying to exude as much confidence and give of an air of "I know what I'm doing" as possible, her mind couldn't help but linger on the woman's choice of a name, despite the approaching man. What was the X for? The whole moniker sounded strangely foreign to her ears. She did hate spiders.

---

Spider did notice Peregrine's retreat, but she chose to ignore that, walking towards the entrance. She didn't recognize her, but, then again, she didn't recognize any of them. Yet. That would come soon enough. But first, she had something to do. "Hey!" she shouted to Fenrir, who stopped mid-step. "What, Spider?" Fenrir asked, gritting his teeth. "Once you got everyone's jobs down, meet me in the Back Panther Alley, mkay?" "Alright, Alright." He continued walking torwads Peregrine.

---

While Peregrine had always been told by her parents that she had a good head on her, she never quite felt like it. She wasn't sure until after scenarios whether she'd made the right decision, and double-guessing herself was an aspect of daily life, even if she had made the correct decision. Her current objective was simply to avoid getting into a confrontation, but she imagined the man could probably sense the fear pulsing beneath her cool exterior.

Stop following me, stop following me, she muttered in her head. She knew she could at least attempt to defend herself if he did see past her facade, maybe better than he might expect, but after seeing that the woman who had beaten him had considered him a good enough fighter to make her right-hand man, she really would feel much safer getting back to a more populated part of town, despite the fact that she knew the other citizens likely wouldn't stand up for her even if she got attacked in bright daylight. Striding out of the alley into a slightly less cramped and rundown one with mock confidence, she turned firmly to the right, fighting the urge to adjust her hood more for fear it may make her seem fidgety and nervous.

It was perhaps two or so minutes to the square, then twenty-ish till home. Maybe she could find her way to the town's old library and busy herself there; despite everything, the building still usually had at least one or two people inside at most times during the day, and a library didn't seem like a place she was likely to be attacked. She didn't know how she was going to pass that off as a thief's job, though. Maybe she could try to loose the man in the alleys? Unlikely, but a better plan than leading him straight to her home.

---

Fenrir narrowed his eyes as he watched the retreating figure. He didn't recognize them, but, then again, there were new peasants looking for a way out of a tough life every day. It was less common now that people were afraid to leave their homes with that nasty new queen, but it still happened. But it was suspicious that they were leaving so quickly, without waiting for an assignment. Fenrir had to figure out what was going on. He couldn't risk a rogue thief, or an enemy band, though they were the main guild in this kingdom. He sped up, yelling, "Oi! Stop right there! State your business."

---

Peregrine froze, then turned around slowly, keeping her head down. She'd prefer for him not to see her skin; while it may startle him enough to cause him to leave her alone temporarily, it did make her particularly recognizable. A battle raged in her head; did she tell him the truth? She certainly couldn't run; he was far larger and stronger than she, and would catch her in a heartbeat. Her father and mother had always taught her and Osprey to tell the truth, so much so that thinking about deception made her uncomfortable. However, that didn't mean that the young woman wouldn't lie if she was so pressed. The question was, though, was it worth it?

In the moment, she wasn't sure. A slightly vague answer could help the situation, perhaps, and maybe give her more clarity as to his intentions, be they malicious or benign. Dipping her head in a gesture of respect and meekness, she responded softly, "Just passing through, sir." Not a particularly brave move, certainly not one of a thief. Her original plan was greatly flawed, she saw that now. No one who took more than a glance or two at her small, wiry figure would ever mistake her for a fighter, even if they were to observe the muscular strength she'd gained from her profession. "Short and sweet," her father called her jokingly, and despite the fact that there were girls in the town quite a bit shorter than her, she was certainly on the lower end of the height spectrum.

---

Fenrir quickly reached her, his long stride quickly clearing the distance between them. He was about to grab her arm, growling in that deep, thickly accented voice of his, "And why were you 'anging around the Guild-" Just then, Spider dropped down from above them, landing so that she was easily able to step between them. "Woah, Woah, Woah, Fenrir!" she said pleasantly, giving him a cool stare. "Whatcha doing? There are thieves without jobs, no?" "Yes, but-" "Don't worry, I'll handle it, now go on, go on. Meet me later, no?" He hesitated, before muttering under his breath, stalking away. Spider turned to Peregrine, a pleasant smile on her face. "Forgive me, Fenrir's a harsh one. Now. About you." Her smile dropped, and her voice became a low, yet clearly audible whisper. "Don't come near that alley again, alright? You'd be in grave danger. You're not the type for theiving. Go to your family, your home, your job, whatever, but don't come back. But. Know this. If I catch you spilling secrets, I will have to come for you. No matter your situation." She smiled again, the cold demeanor melting away. "Good! Adieu, my friend. Until we meet again." She ran off into the alley, jumping from wall to wall up onto the rooftops.

---

"Yes, ma'am..." she said as the form departed, trying to hide the tremble in her voice. Thankfully, she hadn't heard any secrets to spill that she knew of in the first place, so she doubted she'd be able to do so, even accidentally. Quickly whirling around, she bolted out of the alleyway, sprinting back towards the center of town, cloak streaming out behind her. Her hand moved to her pocket, clasping at the quietly jangling coins through the fabric. At least she hadn't been robbed. She was still worried, though. People were untrustworthy, that was simply the case, and thieves even more so. She didn't want to risk heading directly home in case someone was tailing her to scout out her family. As the young woman reached the end of the stretch of alleys, she turned to the right, hurrying towards the library. She did like reading, anyway; it wasn't a terrible place to hide for a little.

---

The plan was in motion. Late that night, Escavilier and Cardinal snuck down to the library, being careful to alert no one. Cardinal had worried over the plan, and they had finally convinced two of the servants to impersonate them. Hopefully, whatever method that Queen Etheria used to constantly watch them would be fooled by it. Hoods over their heads, they made their way through the castle, and, using the stench of the undead zombies to alarm them to their presence, made their way into the night. Once they had hurried across the drawbridge and into the city, Escaviler let out the breath that he didn't realize he had been holding. "We're...actually out," he said in amazement. "Yes," Cardinal said grimly, "But what now?" Their eyes went up, and they realized the huge town looming before them.

---

Isolde sat with her legs tucked beneath her on a large red cushion, overstuffed with goose down, in one corner of her room. She'd changed out of her formal dress and taken off her makeup and jewelry, and now wore a rather simple spaghetti-strap black silk nightgown with a sweetheart neckline lined with red lace. It was late, but she wasn't particularly interested in sleeping. Instead, her eyes were fixed on the collection of black candles with gold glitter sprinkled through them that burned away on her large windowsill, just as she had for the majority of the evening.

The wax ran down the sides, drip, drip, dripping to the bases of the holders, but that wasn't what interested her. Her large green eyes moved only from flame to flame, and that only sparingly. As the smallest candle, the one that had been burning the longest, flickered down to its stub, the flame was quenched by the liquid wax with a hiss. A little smile spread across her mouth, one that was normally seen as rather sweet and innocent but in that moment held an odd sense of cruel amusement.

---

Peregrine, it was safe to say, had gotten completely carried away in the hall of books. She'd hoped to be home by dinner and it was already pitch black outside. She didn't worry, though; her family was used to her staying out a bit late, sometimes getting particularly caught up in a buck or moose she was tracking. If they hadn't been so conditioned, she would have felt a lot more guilty in her continued perusing of the literature. When she was younger, her mother had brought her here to search through the books for a cure for her patched skin, but as the girl had aged, her attention had shifted to more mature topics, such as the histories of bow-making, hunting, and survival tactics.

She trailed a dappled hand across the spines of a row of books just at her eye level. Some sounded boring, but others made her wish she wasn't growing tired. Peregrine was sensible enough, though, to know that the walk home through the dark still lay ahead of her, and that she really ought to have left some time ago. With a little sigh, she turned to her left, preparing to return to her small cabin once more.

---

"Lucky for you," Cardinal said smoothly, pulling her hands into her cloak and moving them around, looking for something, "I came prepared." She procured a small leather bag, pinching it between her forefinger and thumb, keeping it close to her, and moving Escavalier's hand so that it covered hers. "Keep it close, and keep it secret. I may be a lady but I spent some time on the streets." Escavalier shot her a questioning look, but she gave him an icy glare that kept him from asking any questions. "Now. Let's go." After an awkward minute, Cardinal whispered, "Escavalier?" "Hhm?" "Get your filthy hand off mine right now so that we can get out of the public eye!"

They struggled to find an inn open, and not long after, were standing in front of the library, trying to figure out what to do. "We could sleep there," Escavalier said, nodding to the library. "Are you insane?!" "Maybe."

---

Leanna sighed as she stood outside of the large door that was only slightly ajar. It meant that her charge was still awake, something she would have preferred to avoid, but it wasn't like she could march up to Etheria and say, "Oh, sorry, can't do that job because I'd just rather not, right now." Lifting her free hand and using the other to grip her sketchbook tightly for a small confidence boost, the young girl rapped on the door. "Miss Isolde? May I come in?" Leanna wasn't a fan of being forced into the position of housemaid at the court, but Etheria didn't seem to trust the quiet, young girl to do much else. At least it was better than discussing taxes.

Emmett brushed a wave of hair out of his face, eyes not leaving the pages of the old book he currently held. Pacing slowly, it was fascinating to watch his expressions change as he took in the information, reading quickly and efficiently. This was usual for the certified nerd, who spent most of his free time with his nose in a book, especially now that the Queen had taken over; the library was one of the safest places to be. So engrossed he was in his reading that he barely registered smacking into someone that had just taken a sharp left right into him until he dropped the novel. "Oh- Oh please do excuse me, I'm afraid I was rather caught up with the way this author discusses fabrics - did you know that silk is the only known natural filament? - and I didn't notice you," Emmett said, fumbling around to pick up the book. It was pretty common for him to bump into people, and he was used to apologizing for it. Checking the cover for any damage, he finally looked up at the poor soul that he'd rammed into. "In my defence, who wouldn't be enthralled by the ways...that people...use different materials...oh." My, he'd never seen anyone quite like her! As Emmett stared in awe at the dapples across her hands, a few names - kilasa, Celsus, vitiligo - jumped out from his mental catalogue. "Wow..."

Isolde turned, the sadistic hint to her smile slipping away easily, though visually nothing changed. "Of course! Come in," she chirped cheerfully, smoothing her nightgown and unfolding her legs to sit up straight. In the doorway stood the young girl she often saw flitting around the castle. She didn't dislike her but had never found her particularly interesting; she was rather quiet and never seemed to get in fights or question orders. The 23 year-old was curious as to why the girl was calling for her so late at night; she hoped the reason was engaging.

---

"Oh!" Peregrine jumped as something collided with her from behind. She stumbled forwards, then turned quickly to apologize, fully expecting the other party to jump away as if burned, a common reaction from people when they accidentally touched her. While the young man didn't do so, a little flush rose into her cheeks at his clear astonishment. It was normal, and she expected she'd become numb to it someday, but for the while she still felt a little sinking feeling whenever someone responded strongly to seeing her skin. The man's reaction didn't seem entirely negative, though. Yet, she chided the thought. Give it a moment.

Shaking herself mentally, she quickly said, "N-no, my apologies, I was in the way. I'm dreadfully sorry." She wanted to reassure him it wasn't contagious or anything or to try and explain that no, it wasn't a curse, but she worried that calling attention to it may make him uneasy. There were two main responses to her, she'd noticed. The first was horror that turned to condescension and ostracizing; those people would make no effort to hide it when they spoke about how strange and ugly her skin. The second was just ignoring it, generally avoiding eye contact, and ending the conversation as quickly as possible. She still wasn't sure which she preferred.

The young woman glanced away, realizing she'd been staring somewhat awkwardly at him. She knew better than to do that, but he was rather interesting. He was quite a bit taller than she and dressed rather fancily, yet his hair was almost amusingly crazy. She knew that if her little brother were there he would have tried to make some snide comment before she could hush him up, a scenario that had played out once before and ended in total embarrassment, though she could usually manage that result even without Osprey's help.

---

Relieved that for once, she hadn't been treated rudely or simply ignored, Leanna pushed the heavy doors open with ease and entered with a soft smile. "I apologize, I don't have much of an interesting reason for intruding," the girl explained, simply tilting her head to a closet in the room. "Just doing laundry." Spotting a formal dress that she'd seen Isolde in earlier, Leanna nodded to it. "Would you like me to take that one as well?" Busying herself with neatly collecting the other dirty garments, she waited for Isolde to reply. A thought struck her; maybe the lady would appreciate the news of the skirmish she'd seen earlier that day while she was out. Leanna had no idea how often the nobility actually wandered around the town, but she'd hazard a guess that it was as little as possible for most of them.

Murmuring something along the lines of "don't apologize", Emmett was entranced with the young lady who also seemed a bit taken with him as well - probably the hair, it was usually the hair that people gave odd looks. He'd come across the disease before in his studies, and he'd found it fascinating, but he'd never actually met anyone with vitiligo until now. And though he'd seen drawings, illustrations in texts, he'd never considered that it would be so...

"Beautiful," Emmett said more clearly, resisting the urge to gently grab her hand and look more closely at the dapples stretched across it. Finally looking up and meeting the girl's gaze, he gave her a bright smile, his book and their crashing into each other completely forgotten. "Absolutely stunning - have you had it for long? - I've never seen it before but my, it's lovely isn't it? I'm Emmett - I don't think I've seen you around - well, no, of course I haven't, or I'd have seen this before! - and you weren't in the way at all." Speaking in a disjointed, somewhat hard to follow manner, as was usual for him when he was excited, the young man finally paused to take a breath. In the momentary silence, an unusual flash of self-consciousness caused him to pat down his hair a bit, attempting to tame it in vain. "Ah- sorry, I tend to ramble," he explained a bit more calmly. "May I ask your name?"

A shame, Isolde thought to herself, though she did appreciate it. "Go right ahead," she nodded kindly to the girl. Her gaze flickered back to the candles for a moment; she wasn't actually quite sure what type they were. "If you had to guess-," she began idly, gesturing to the burning wax cylinders. "-what scent would you say these were meant to be? Mulberry vanilla, perhaps?"

---

The young woman was completely flustered. 20 years old and the only people who had ever told her that her skin wasn't hideous before were her family members; her mother hadn't seemed to believe it herself, though, and Osprey tended to idolize his older sister, finding it difficult to find faults in her, a trait which she did at times appreciate but could also make it hard to take his words to heart. When she was younger, she'd fantasized situations like this and always imagined she'd respond with something quick-witted and bright, but now she really had no clue what to say, aside from that she just should to say something.

"O-oh, thank you," she managed, but a flicker in her voice made it sound more like a fearful question. She winced; that wasn't how she'd meant it. Her face felt quite red; she couldn't help but wonder if the fuchsia that had risen into it was a different tone in the lighter patches of her skin than the darker. Goodness, she didn't know what was happening; normally she was able to actually be somewhat articulate in conversation.

Mentally taking a deep breath, she adjusted her posture and tried to calm herself a bit. She hadn't been expecting to be so immediately enamored with a person she'd just met, but she couldn't help but be captivated by his quick, spiraling speech and polite demeanor. The young woman smiled. "Thank you," she repeated, her voice deeply genuine and a great deal more steady, though she wasn't entirely sure why she was allowing herself to be so touched by his words. "It's a pleasure to meet you, Emmett. You may; I'm Peregrine."

---