Thalia_Neko
Ten Thousand Club
Kapoore
The hooded man wiggled his finger in front of her and gave her a low tsk, tsk.
"Now, now, love. No need to be so hostile; though I do like 'em a little feisty."
He took the dagger he was throwing up in the air and put it back into its sheath, a small grin crawling onto his covered face.
"Kapoore? Never heard of him. Heheh."
He laughed quietly as he walked over to the front of the cage and pulled a pick from his pocket. It only took a minute and the door was open. He swung the cell door forward, staring at his pick.
"Hm. The locks they make here aren't very ideal, are they?"
He shrugged as he put the pick back into his pocket and held his hand out for Shy to take.
"Come on then, sweetheart."
Egret "Shy" Bluebird
(13) Sharpshot
Outlander Variant
PRIMARY STAT
Skill
WEAPON PROFICIENCY
Bows: A
Dirks: C
Personal Skill
@The Lord of Sunlight @Ammokkx
@Archdemon @Clockwork Syringe
Shy definitely could see the outside world from within her uncomfortable, boring cell. Sheesh, for as grand, and gargantuan Valken's capitol was, they certainly neglected the brig area. Possibly, it was simply left shoddy, due to the Valken nobles (and royalty for that matter) simply not caring enough about their enemies; regarding them with very little respect. So, little, in fact, that they actually neglected to make the cells, or immediate area 'pretty' like the rest of the city. Who knew? Valken people actually didn't coat everything in solid gold. How fascinating their restraint.
A smallish, barred window in the back, was where she could watch the sky high above the city. It seemed to take ages, for that sun to finally dip so low, that there were no oranges, or reds in the sky. Only bright, glittering stars, atop a blanket of pitch blue-black sky. Indicating deep night. She had to wait so long, because even here, the cheer and merrymaking of the wedding's party lasted long long into the night. Only furthering to prove to Shy, that Valkenians wasted and flaunted their wealth foolishly below the gods above, uncaring about the squalor they reveled in. Just sitting there, waiting in that cell, Shy grew angrier by the second, wringing some of her ripped skirts harshly. Their audacity and capacity for unabashed consumption knew no bounds. The blatant disrespect for the suffering men and women in the Outlands was nearly unbearable.
Shy had been trying to determine any way out of this stinkin' cell, but in the time she had managed to look over it, despite its simplistic look, it was pretty secure. She hadn't, personally, managed to find a weakness. Still, Kapoore was nearby. Possibly waiting for the appropriate time. Then there was her companion, the 'Outlander', whom she now realized was merely another 'Outrealmer', like the redheaded squatter-snooper. Then there was that Valken, who had been speaking with said Outlander. Shy wasn't sure if either of them were still around. She had been far too busy with her own ordeal, trying to formulate her own escape plan to pay attention to a oddball (Marth), and his Valken 'friend', who might not have even stuck around this late.
There were a few guards on patrol, she knew of. That much she could hear beyond the doors. She counted their paces, and studied their patterns. It seemed there was about a five minute interval before a set of two guards passed by, then followed by another set of two guards. They seemed to alternate routes; with their paths changing every now and then, based on the sounds of their shuffling feet. This was a skill Shy had honed, from years spent sneaking into Valken to study their battle styles, and their fighting classes. To bring that information to the Outlands, to train up their own soldiers, for the inevitable full-scale war.
Well, knowing the guards paths, and patterns could only benefit the woman so much... Shy was still trapped within the cell, with no apparent way of escaping. Kapoore, at some point, at voiced that the cells and possibly even their locks had seemed of poor-quality, and made second-rate. Probably because they did not hold prisoners often. Thinking, along this line, caused Shy to narrow her eyes. Nope, Outlanders were more than likely not held for all that long. When they were caught, they were kept for a short while, then... Well. It was probably obvious. She, herself, was probably already scheduled for such trash-removal. Lenneth had royally screwed her, it seemed. Even if the pinkish haired woman had attempted to help her with this momentary call, it still didn't help now.
Shy was imprisoned, awaiting execution, most likely.