Realistic or Modern The Conman and the Sneak Thief

[PauciloquentPumpkin]

It's the middle of the day. Persia is protected from the cold, Autumn breeze within her vehicle. A bland, grey car she broke into and hot-wired to blend in with the neighborhood. The car is filled with the scent of coffee and greasy fast food, staples of a stake-out. The neighborhood in question is a rather wealthy one, where the rich and celebrities often have vacation homes. Large buildings, some that could easily be called mansions, dot the landscape. A landscape filled with well manicured lawns with lavish decorations and statues, separated by extravagant fences and gates.

The reason for Persia's visit to this part of town is a particular item that's on her docket. A golden goblet encrusted with various jewels. The owner, a pudgy man, dark skin and balding, has been flaunting his wealth on the local news station. He lives in a massive, three-story building. Complete with balconies and several pools. He's all but asking for it to be taken. Persia is a career thief, and a skilled one at that. She specializes in planning, and sneaking in and out without being seen. No traces left behind. She uses her skill in lock-picking and electronics to get past security systems. She has been casing the place for several days. There is light security. At most, three guards on duty, which is during the night, while only one is on during the day. The goblet is kept in the man's bedroom for his own personal display. A rather self-absorbed move that leaves no guilt in Persia for swiping the item.

Persia looks in her rear view mirror. A long, dark face looks back. Her smooth skin is pockmarked with even darker freckles. Her strong features would make her look intimidating, combined with her usually serious face, were it not for her short stature, standing in at around 5'5". Her almond shaped eyes are deep set, filled with dark blue eyes, speckled with white that makes it look almost like the midnight sky on a clear night. Her eyes reflect how she's often deep in thought. Calculating and cold. She sports short, black hair. It's extremely curly and shaved on the sides, giving her a short high top. Her face is framed with a black hoodie, which matches the rest of her outfit. Black being her color of choice for her chosen profession.

Looking back towards her mark, she notices a woman walking up to the house. A rather strange turn of events, and entirely unexpected. She watches intently, curious as to what the abrupt meeting is about. She has a confident air about her, though doesn't seem like she belongs, seeming not as familiar as a close friend just visiting would be. Persia wonders if this is an opportunity. A moment she can utilize for her purposes. A little earlier than she planned, but she was never one to pass up an opportunity. She tenses her body, ready to make her move, but staying patient as well. Rushing into a job is a sure way to end your career early.

 

[Araellion]

Hera Bellemonte felt out of place, sitting in a bus wearing business attire. Her formal black suit with matching black tie stood in stark contrast to the informal jeans and blouses of the few people surrounding her. She ignored that as best as she could, leaning on the window and watching the scenery pass by.

As always, the hour or so before a job was the worst. It was during this time that she started to doubt herself and pick apart every little flaw in her plans, even if experience told her that things would be fine. She would pretend to be a seller, get inside the house, and then distract the man so she could get the goblet. Simple. Alright, her plan wasn't all that good. Hera would be the first to admit that. But, somehow that had never been a problem. If she could procrastinate a presentation for school and improvise a script for it and still get top marks, then she could easily do this.

She stepped out of the bus when it stopped, breathing in the fresh air of the outdoors and willing her slight nausea away. Tilting her head up, Hera took a few seconds to feel the cold air on her face. Her delicate but sharp features had been described as aristocratic by more than one person, much to her delight. Even if one person had probably meant that as an insult, saying something about her looking down at people. It wasn't her fault that she was 5'9". She took a certain amount of pride in her looks, even if she liked to deny it. Her mid-back length brown hair matched her eyes and flowed freely in the wind, despite being tied up in a low ponytail.

When she felt like she had stood around for long enough, Hera began the trek to the mark's house. The bus stopped quite far away, which made sense. This was an upscale neighbourhood, so everyone could afford a car. Or hell, most of them probably had limousines with personal chauffeurs. But that's fine. Hera didn't mind walking, even if the wind nipped at her exposed skin. It helped clear her head, which was a necessity right now. Better late than never to fill in the gaping holes in her plan, right?

Yeah, no. Her train of thought was immediately derailed to something more exciting. Mainly what she was going to do after she had the goblet. Finding a buyer wouldn't be difficult, even if it was obtained illegally. Not that she really needed the money, but some extra cash in the bank never hurt anyone.

The house was coming up and Hera focused on slipping into her role. This was what she lived for. Who cared if an acting degree was useless, she had had so much fun obtaining it. And was still having fun using the skills she had obtained from pursuing it. Hardly what she would call a waste of time. She didn't really know what a door to door seller was like, other than what she knew from popular media. In hindsight, not doing research on her role had been stupid. Well, too late now. Hera put on a bright smile and hoped for the best.

Knocking on the door, Hera didn't have to wait long for a reply. She didn't notice that there was a doorbell until after she had knocked, and thankfully didn't have enough time to feel stupid for it. The man of the house himself opened the door, much to her surprise. Surely if you had money to waste you would have someone to do that sort of thing for you? Whatever. Seemed like luck was on her side.

Widening her smile, Hera forced as much enthusiasm into her voice as she could without it feeling forced. "Afternoon good sir! You look like someone who could benefit from an updated security system." The words left her in a rush, her brain struggling to keep up with her mouth. For once that came in handy. "Yes indeed, with our new, ultra modern, security system you can sleep soundly knowing that nobody is going to come anywhere close to this house without you knowing about it."

Thankfully the man looked more intrigued than skeptical, which Hera took as encouragement. She stepped past the man into his house, and he let her, closing the door behind them. Well, this was going swimmingly so far. Even just the entrance was drowning in luxury, and Hera would be jealous if it wasn't so painfully overdone. "Let's take a look around this place and then we'll discuss options, yes?"

 

[PauciloquentPumpkin]

Persia rolls down her window. Still too far to clearly make out anything, she can at least try to hear the tone of the discussion. It appears as though the pudgy man of wealth doesn't know his guest. The woman speaks with gusto. It reminds Persia of annoying salesmen from some of her favorite shows. She's over eager and ready to show her goods. She seems under dressed for the weather, but Persia isn't too sure. Fashion was never her strong suit, and she's also a bit far away to really tell.

The woman makes her way inside, storming past the bewildered man. He seems taken aback, but doesn't argue. Persia lets out a gasp of a chuckle. He's probably thinking dirty thoughts. Rich men always are when a woman is involved. Persia takes this as a sign that her time is now. Her muscles still tensed, she grabbed her bag and left, not bothering to lock the car. Her bag is a plain black backpack, clearly made for utility over design. It carries various tools for picking locks and working with electronics. She drew her hood tighter, bracing against the cold, and made her way down the side of the building. The sight not overly suspicious in the cold Autumn months.

Persia kept a slow, calm pace, not wanting to draw attention. The tension in her body worked to keep the cold at bay. She remembered her thought that the other woman was under dressed earlier, and now felt the same. She gave a slight shiver as she reached her destination. The white paint on the wooden slats was clean. Meticulously so. And almost blinding if it caught the Sun at the right angles.

Persia noticed the guard in one of the windows as she walked by. She made a mental note of the perfect timing, as he wouldn't be on the third floor, the location of her bounty. She looked up, her target window was in sight. There weren't many handholds, but that didn't bother her. She was fit, and well versed at climbing walls of various designs. The window was great for two reasons. It's in the blindspot of any cameras, out of the way of prying eyes at the back of the house. It was also the location of the very room the goblet resides in, leaving for little room to travel.

Tightening her climbers gloves, Persia allowed the tension in her body to release. Her muscles explode with power as she leapt from window to ledge, finding the smallest opportunity to gain an advantage over her environment. Far from an ideal climbing scenario, she still made light work, effortlessly making her way higher and higher, as she made her way to her destination. She used a small hook to latch herself to the windowsill as she began working on opening the clear glass obstruction. It had a simple lock, easy to undo with a few tools. Moments later she found herself inside the room, taking in her surroundings.

The only signs of security were a single camera, pointed at a glass display case housing the prize, right next to the door. Persia pulled up a black face mask, concealing her nose and mouth, and lowered her hood, leaving only her midnight blue eyes revealed. She makes her way to the display case, in full view of the camera, but avoids ever letting it see her face. A simple digital lock is the only enemy in her way. She reaches behind with practiced movements, pulling a few tools from her bag, and sets to work. She opened a panel, identified the wires she needed, and began wrestling with her opponent. At the same time she started to hear voices, then footsteps. Was someone approaching? She had to make a decision. Continue work on the case, or leave it for later? Escaping out the window was a simple affair, so she decided to continue working, for once she had it in her hands, there's little chance anyone could stop her from leaving. The door opens just as she unlocks the case. She turns to see who it is, her adrenaline in full gear at this point.

 

[Araellion]

"...our security system is practically hacker proof too! Nobody but you will have any control over it." Hera kept up a steady stream of chatter as the man lead her from room to room. She didn't have a clue what she was talking about and, in her opinion, was doing a remarkable job of hiding that fact. Though, it didn't seem like the man was truly listening to her. Any other time that would have annoyed her, but Hera was too grateful that at least her cover wouldn't be blown.

Going into every room and inspecting it took bloody ages. So she only really bothered with it for the first few ones. After that she took a quick peek and made some general comment about how the windows could be secured better, or how this was the perfect place to put one of their best security cameras. After a while, Hera was looking more at all the art that hung on the walls in the form of paintings and sat on pedestals in the form of vases and some other items that probably had fancy names.

When she entered another room on the second floor, Hera came face to face with a guard. Her smile froze for just a second, before she ignored him and continued talking to the balding man. Seeing that she was there with the owner of the house thankfully made the guard ignore her. Small mercies, she supposed. Even so, Hera hurried up after that, very much done with this whole scenario. She was also running out of new ways of saying the same thing, so it would be for the best to get things wrapped up.

Finally she was running out of rooms. They were on the third floor and Hera easily slung open the next door. Her eyes landed on the golden goblet, and something was clearly wrong with her since her first thought was about how unsafe it was to keep something so valuable in such an unsecure place. Hera didn't know whether she was thinking like a thief or a security system seller anymore, but it made her feel better to think it was the former.

A second later her gaze moved and she locked eyes with another person. It felt like time froze, and it didn't take a genius to figure out what the black-clad person was up to. Hera just stood there, blinking. Not one of her proudest moments. But to be fair, she was in complete shock at this turn of events. Usually she would be good at dealing with situations she wasn't prepared for, it was practically in her job description, but her brain was still trying to process all of this.

Sadly, the other thief recovered before she did, nabbing the goblet and jumping out the window. It was like something out of a movie, and some cynical part of her brain wondered how this had become her life. The sound of the man shouting something to the guard snapped her out of it, thoughts going a million miles an hour. "Well. Clearly something needs to be done about these windows." Her voice sounded breathless even though she hadn't done anything strenuous.

Things were a bit of a blur after that. She demurely followed the man and exchanged a few words with the guard, confirming what they had seen happen. After Hera was cleared of all suspicion, she rattled off a random number and told them to call if they wanted that upgraded security system. If she were really a salesman she would be jumping out of joy right now, but she was mostly annoyed. Partially at how they thought she was working together with the other thief and partially at how she had failed.

The annoyance stuck with her all the way to the bus, and even when she was sitting comfortably near a window her thoughts wouldn't leave her alone. Now, clearly that hadn't been Hera's fault, so there was no use in beating herself up over it. As much as she was proud of her improvisation skills, sometimes things were well and truly out of her control. And besides, maybe the other thief desperately needed the money? Yeah, that was probably the case. It made her feel better to think that she hadn't truly lost. She simply gave the prize to someone who needed it more. A cheritable act.

Her annoyance simmered down during her journey back home, and the whole thing was soon forgiven. Of course, Hera wouldn't tolerate anything like that happening a second time. But what were the odds of them meeting again?

 

[PauciloquentPumpkin]

Persia's breathe caught as she came face to face with the saleswoman from before. Like two deer in caught in headlights they stare at each other. Persia's usual cold and calculating features melted away in fear and confusion. Her mouth hung open, thankfully hidden behind her mask, as her eyes widened. It's apparent now why the man was so willing to let her in. She was rather attractive, and even looked like she belonged among the wealthy.

Persia's moment, frozen in time, was broken when the suited woman looked down at the goblet. The slight movement was enough to kick Persia back into gear. She swiped the glass case aside, which caused it to crash to the floor, shattering upon impact. She snatched up the goblet, quickly turning and dashing towards the window. Simultaneously she grabbed a climbing clip from her bag, expertly attaching it to the hook she left previously at the window. With practiced ease, she attached it as she dove out of the window, her gloved hands glided down a black rope that revealed itself from the bag. She left the rope behind, a casualty of war.

She hopped a fence, and ducked through some bushes, an alternate escape route she had planned on before, choosing to abandon her stolen car. Upon finding a hidden corner, she slung her bag to the ground. She pulled out a change of clothes so she wouldn't be so easily identified. A simple, grey sweatshirt and pants, making her look like a jogger. With her prize neatly tucked away in her bag, she made her way to the street and began, as her outfit suggested, jogging.

Persia could, if she so chose, have stolen another car, but didn't want to test her luck twice in one day. She enjoyed the exercise anyways. It felt freeing, and left her mind to wander while fighting off the cold. The man had been showcasing his wealth, especially the goblet, in local news recently. The saleswoman showed up shortly after. At first, Persia thought it may have been a coincidence, but, that, combined with the way she eyed the goblet, caused Persia to wonder. It's not impossible that another thief would have been after the same prize. It was definitely worth a pretty penny. Persia found herself admiring the way the woman could so easily just walk into the place. Though she wondered if it was her looks, or actual skill. Either way, Persia hoped she wouldn't have to find out.

A few hours later and Persia found herself at her boss' residence. It wasn't her boss by choice, but through threats. Persia's talents had become known to this man, an underground crime lord. He had come to further learn about Persia's brother, who was sick, and had to essentially live in hospitals. If Persia doesn't steal the things asked of her, the man threatens her brother's life. Persia found herself now face to face with the man. Brutus, a fitting name for a giant bear of a man. Russian, with a mighty scar across his left eye. He has a long, scraggly beard, brown with specks of grey, matching his short hair and bushy eyebrows. He smelled strongly of musky cologne, like he was trying to make up for something he lacked. His meaty hands reach up to tug a fat cigar out of his mouth.

"You have the item, I take it?" Brutus said, spitting the smoke at Persia.

Looking around at the myriad of men, even in the man's own residence, always left an uneasy feeling in Persia's gut, as she simply replied, "Yes."

With her simple statement, she drops her bag on the table Brutus is sitting at and pulls out the object. Shiny in the low lighting of the room, almost like it has it's own source of luminescence. She hands the goblet to the giant. It looked tiny in his hands. He doesn't give so much as an approving grunt before he spoke, ready for her next job already.

"There's a ring that belongs to a motorcycle gang. Harumph!" Brutus gives a gruff chuckle at some unseen joke. "They call themselves a club. They are initiating some new members in a week. I've come across some interesting information. A rather valuable ring is brought out for use during these initiations. It's worth even more than this here cup." Brutus calling the goblet a 'cup' leaves Persia to wonder if he's actually going to use it as a drinking cup. He certainly seemed the type to do so.

Brutus says nothing further. He always gave a spectacularly small amount of information for Persia to go off of. It's like he wants her to fail. But Persia knows better than to ask further. The first time she did she was beaten. So, she simply bowed slightly, gave a confirmation, and headed out, already ready to start research on her next heist.

 

[Araellion]

As soon as Hera got home to her apartment, she only took off her shoes before dramatically falling on her couch, letting out a sigh. This day really hadn't gone to plan at all. And as much as she felt like brooding, her orange tabby jumping on her chest made that difficult. It also made it difficult to breathe, but she would live. Skimbles really embodied the sentiment 'kill them with kindness'.

"You're my adorable little assassin, aren't ya?" Hera scratched Skimbles behind the ears, his cute little purrs doing wonders for her mood. Her voice had gone soft and high pitched like it sometimes did when she talked to her cat like this. "I bet that's what you do when I'm not here, isn't it? Wouldn't surprise me." Skimbles just blinked at her with those big soulful eyes of his. Oh yeah, that cat had definitely seen some things.

Laughing to herself, Hera got up to change into something more comfortable. Skimbles clung to her suit, sharp claws easily finding the tiny holes that made up the material. The suit would be stretched a bit, but not holey. Good. Since he insisted on coming with her, Hera held onto her cat so he could relax. And to spare her clothes from any more damage.

She got changed into a really fluffy burgundy hoodie that had been a gag gift from her mom, but she wore all the time, and some pyjama pants. Because why the hell not. They were comfy. And they had little cartoon cats on them because Hera was not above pandering.

Sitting back down on the couch, Hera turned on the TV just to have some background noise. Skimbles curled up on the opposite end of the couch, apparently deciding that he had had enough cuddles for now. Hugging a pillow to her chest, Hera watched the news with the same level of excitement as a kid watching cartoons. She had failed today, but tomorrow was another day.

There wasn't anything particularly interesting that was being reported. Probably because she was watching a news station that dealt with local news. Some people complaining about graffiti, some vandalism, a lady turning a hundred years old today. Pretty typical stuff. Hera wondered whether the man who was now one golden goblet poorer would report the thievery at all. And if he did, would it end up on the news? A knot formed in her chest. God, she hoped not. Hera just wanted to forget that this day existed.

Apparently sensing her declining mood, Skimbles made his way over to her, butting his head against her hand in a silent plea for pets. And who was she to deny him? The hand that was not currently occupied reached for her phone that was now buzzing softly. Her friend Jamie had sent a text asking how the day had gone. Hera ignored it and asked if she knew of other things for her to steal.

Jamie worked for the police and was the one who found most of Hera's potential work, much to their shared amusement. She could always do it herself, but had no idea how Jamie came up with most of these ideas. Besides, why mess with perfection? Jamie asked once more how things had gone, but gave in and sent the names of potential victims her way.

Deciding to fill Jamie in later, Hera scrolled through the info. Bank robberies were risky and not her expertise, so that was out. Museums were better, but then she would have to hide from cops. Not ideal. A gang initiation was more promising. She almost thought Jamie had sent over one of her case files by mistake, before realising. Ahh yes, a valuable ring. Now this could be fun.

"Oh Skimbles. Don't you just love when things work out?"

"Meow."

"My thoughts exactly."

 

[PauciloquentPumpkin]

A week had gone by fairly quickly. Luckily, outside of their meetings, Brutus never really contacted Persia. He wasn't one for micromanaging. He expected success, and punished failure. A week proved sufficient for her research. The motorcycle gang in question was known as CMC, Carlyle's Motorcycle Club. They dealt mostly in blackmail and extortion, but also ran drugs on the side. Guilt was never really something Persia had a problem with, but it always felt nice to steal from those that truly deserve it.

They met regularly at a bar they owned, named after the gang, simply known as Carlyle's. They initiated new members once a year. A rather big and flashy event, filled with celebration and ceremony. The mark, the ring, was taken out from a highly secure vault, which was guarded by multiple men, hidden in the back of the building, for this very event. It would be near impossible to steal otherwise. A task Persia wouldn't mind having a crack at, but, success is the most important aspect, for her brother's sake. The ring was placed on the hands of each new member as they recited an oath. Persia figured her best bet at swiping the valuable would be after the ceremony, when they are full of booze and relaxed.

It was dusk when the ceremony began. The setting Sun brought with it cooling temperatures. Persia had found an opportunity to sneak atop the roof of the building hours earlier and had been holding tight, waiting for her opportunity. The pub had a single entrance, surrounded by old, brick walls and small, thick windows. Normally a hard building to get into, especially with the large amount of people, but looking at the blueprints, since building plans were free for the public to look at, showed several vents that lead to the inside ceiling, which consisted of removable tiles.

Once the ceremony started, most, if not all, of the people had made their way outside, into the open parking lot, filled with motorcycles and a few other vehicles. Persia used this opportunity to sneak soundlessly through a vent and into the ceiling. Thankful for the protection from the outside elements, she crawled over to where she should be above the bar. She placed her ear to the tile. She couldn't hear anyone, so she gently lifted a tile to peer through. The bar was, as she thought, empty. She could hear the voices outside, indicating they had already started the ceremony, and thus, had the ring already.

Persia kept an eye on the inside, eerily devoid of activity, as she waited for the ceremony to end. She was hoping that they would drop the ring off to later be put away, but was ready to fight if she needed. Fighting wasn't a particular specialty of hers, but she's been in a few scraps, and a surprise ambush should be enough for her to wrestle the ring from someone before quickly disappearing back into the ceiling. It was more a plan of desperation than anything else. She simply must succeed. She found her thoughts wandering to her brother while she waited.

 

[Araellion]

Never had Hera wanted to strangle Jamie more than today. When she had given Hera the info about the gang a week ago, Hera thought it would be easy. Simple undercover work. Hell, easy enough for even an untrained detective. And that had been true. Mostly.

She had had some trouble getting them all to take her seriously at first, since she very obviously didn't belong. Hera frowned upon motorcycles just as much as drugs, which was difficult for her to hide. At least Jamie had lent her some leather clothing and sunglasses, which helped her image a bit. Extortion and blackmail though? That she could do.

It was a risky game to play, but after last week's loss she felt like taking some risks. So Hera did small jobs for the gang, building up trust. And her hard work had paid off. Despite being very new, they had invited her to be initiated.

So that's why she was sitting on the floor in Jamie's house, preparing for the evening. They did this sometimes, mostly because Jamie worried too much. As always, Jamie insisted on Hera wearing an earpiece and bulletproof vest, and Hera insisting that that was completely unnecessary. Sadly Jamie had the upper hand this time.

"Please, it would put my mind at ease." Jamie was putting on her best puppy dog face, but Hera was immune to it after having known her for so long.

"It will be fine. It's always fine. I always end up finishing the job perfectly." Her voice was strained with held back annoyance. Did they really have to have this discussion every time? At this point Hera would prefer Jamie doing her job and arresting her.

"Yes, especially last week's mission was flawless work," Jamie drawled, leaning back on the side of her couch. Her voice sounded sincere enough, but the smirk on her face told a different story. Hera's eye twitched at the reminder.

"It was, actually." Well, apart from her lack of planning. But she would have come up with something. She always did. "Not my fault some thief stole the damned thing." Hera flung herself backwards, sprawling out on the floor. She wished she was wearing one of her suits now, only to be able to see Jamie's displeasure at Hera's antics wrinkling her outfit.

Thankfully Jamie didn't force the issue, and Hera got away without any police equipment. She drove Hera to the pub, making Hera feel like a child being dropped off for school, which was ridiculous.

Making her way inside, Hera embraced the upbeat atmosphere. Everyone had told her that the initiation was a relaxed thing, nothing like you saw in Mafia movies. Bernie, a long time member and Hera's mentor, had stage-whispered that it was mostly an excuse to party. Hera had let out a startled laugh, and had shot back 'since when do you guys need an excuse?'

This evening though, she hung around the other new members. Seven people including her would be initiated tonight. But that was later. For now, Hera endured some whiskey and kept an eye out for the ring.

All too soon the time had come and everyone was ushered outside. The spectators formed a protective circle around the chosen seven, shielding them from any possible curious passers-by. They were instructed to sit on the ground, drawing an eyeroll from Hera and some muttered complaining from some of her peers. Stupidly enough, Hera was thankful for her thick pants. At least the rough asphalt didn't hurt.

After a longwinded speech from some higher ups, the ring was passed around along with the oath; "I swear loyalty and brutality equally." Honestly, Hera didn't have a clue who came up with the oath. She had trouble making sense of it and figured the original meaning had been lost in translation. Or whoever wrote it had been an idiot. One of the two.

When she finally got her hands on the ring, Hera was less than eager to pass it on. She felt the weight of it in the palm of her hand before putting it on her finger. Never having been an expert on jewellery, she couldn't even wager a guess as to what it was made out of. But in her mind heavy meant good.

The ceremony ended surprisingly quickly and everyone rushed back inside to get some more alcohol. Hera tagged along with the other newbies, stealing some more looks at the ring. For the rest of the evening the ring would continue to be passed back and forth between them. Hera would simply be the last one to have it, wait a bit so people forgot she had it, and leave. Finally, a decent plan. Jamie would be so proud.

 

[PauciloquentPumpkin]

People began flooding the pub as the ceremony came to a close. A less than ideal situation, but one Persia could still work with. Crowds are surprisingly good for sneaking within. Persia began studying people, searching for the ring, as well as her opportunity. She quickly spotted the ring, held by a rather gaunt man who looks like the Grim Reaper has been following him around. Persia has taken out larger men in ambushes, but, this was a man she could take head on. She smiles to herself at her fortune.

The smell of alcohol began permeating the place as Persia tracked the ring bearer. Occasionally moving and lifting tiles to follow where he's headed. He soon made his way to a back room. From Persia's recollection of the blueprints she's studied, this was the likely area for the vault that held the ring, as well as other valuables. Perhaps Persia could obtain more than her original goal, though she wasn't usually one for getting greedy. Persia didn't even notice the woman that had also been tracking her mark.

Unlike the main room of the bar, this room was well lit. The entire room was an off-white, almost grey color, with boring, flat walls and tile flooring. At the far corner lay a large door with a giant menacing wheel attached to it, reminiscent of a bank vault. Rather impressive looking, and certainly something some straight-and-narrow motorcycle club shouldn't be able to afford, and certainly not someone without something to hide. Persia's curiosity was certainly piqued, though, she was never one to let curiosity make decisions for her.

Persia positioned herself above the corner near the vault, prepared to jump down onto the man. The position would also allow her an easy escape, returning back to the ceiling tiles so she could leave back through the same vent she infiltrated from. She slid the tile fully off as the man approached. Her adrenaline started pumping. She was normally fairly calm, though confrontation was always nerve-wracking for her, especially fighting, which she avoided at all costs. She didn't have the tools required to break into a vault though, so, couldn't let it go any further.

Once the man was in position, Persia silently dropped down with all the force her small body could muster. She implanted her feet into the man's shoulders, dragging his upper body quickly to the floor, where the man's face became intimate with the floor, causing him to have a long nap. The ring exploded from his hands, ricocheting off the walls. It began rolling towards the exit. Persia dashed and dove for it, grabbing it as she rolled to her feet, coming face to face with a woman.

The woman from her previous heist stood before her, though Persia found herself a lot less dumbstruck than last time. Her uncovered face showing no change of expression as she took in the sight of the woman. The woman's looks, her beauty, is the reason Persia was convinced she was able to pull one over the rich man from before, as well as infiltrate this group of predominantly men. Persia's eyes took her in, moving from head to toe, her expression never changing from her cold, calculating eyes, taking in details and already planning ahead.

She felt the weight of the ring in her right hand, the metal cool against her skin. She raised her hands, slowly, watching the woman's eyes as she slid the ring onto her left hand thumb, the ring too large to fit snugly on her other fingers. The woman's reaction all but confirmed what she was here for. Several courses of action appeared before Persia. She could goad, having won a second time against this would-be thief, insulting her as a failure. But that was just a knee-jerk thought, Persia wasn't one for boasting. She lets her skills do the talking. Instead, she balled her hand into a fist, closing around the ring, showing how it was out of the woman's grasp, as she waited, for a short moment, to see how the woman would react, her midnight eyes never leaving her foe's.

 

[Araellion]

Hera was very quickly getting tired of this evening. She had refused to drink any more than two shots of god knows what and a glass of wine, no matter how many people tried to convince her to let loose. Tomorrow was going to be a nightmare going by how terrible she already felt. Not that she was a lightweight or anything. Alcohol mostly just gave her a headache.

The ring was passed around for maybe half an hour before it was forgotten in favour of drinks. Hera waited a bit longer, biding her time. Sadly, the alcohol had made her reflexes a tad slower than usual along with her already terrible attention span. So much for having the ring last and walking away with it. This was why she didn't make plans; they made her complacent and sloppy.

Shaking her head at herself, Hera tore herself away from the small crowd she had been a part of. Tracking down who currently had the ring was far more difficult than it should have been. It was just so small. At last she figured it out though and felt unreasonably proud of herself for it.

A half-predatory smile spread across her face as she followed one of her fellow newbies. She had waited long enough. Now was the time to strike. No matter how today ended, Hera was just grateful that this week was over. Maybe in another life she would have been fine with actually joining the club. There were some surprisingly decent people here. She would especially miss Bernie. He had taken her under his wing, and she sent him a silent apology for betraying him.

The man with the ring was heading to the vault. That... Well, it was both good and not good at the same time. It was away from people, which was the only good thing about this situation. Her main problem was that it would be hard to convince the man to hand over the ring and run away. She shook her head again. No need to worry about that just yet. One thing at a time.

She slipped into the room behind the man, closing the door behind them and almost letting out a relieved sigh at the silence. The thick walls didn't block out all the sounds of the bar area, but the noises were dulled. It did wonders for her budding headache in any case.

While Hera was adjusting to the light level in here, the man was knocked out and another person now stood in front of her. The pure shock of the events made her blink, before her eyes landed on the hopefully not dead man. "Well then. That makes things both easier and harder than expected." Her voice was completely flat, only her face twisting in surprise.

Her gaze slipped back to the woman in front of her, mind racing. She wondered for half a second why the other person was still here, before realising she was being taunted. At least that's what it felt like. Good grief, again? This was becoming ridiculous. Hera's head tilted in silent question, scanning the woman's face. "Do I know you?" Her voice betrayed her genuine confusion. The woman struck her as familiar, but Hera was absolutely terrible at faces.

It was times like these that Hera wished she had a knife. She refused to carry any weapons though, insistent on the fact that she wouldn't hurt anyone. A murder charge was way worse than getting caught for thievery. Besides, with her lack of skills with combat, it was more likely that someone would be able to take the knife away from her and use it against her. And that was just a situation she refused to put herself in.

Thinking quickly, Hera slowly reached out her right hand. "Look, you won, OK?" She had to force the words out, her pride insisting that it wasn't over yet. "Can we shake on it like the honorable thieves we are?" She gave her outstretched hand a pointed shake, hoping the other woman would take the bait. Though, Hera doubted it would be that easy.

 

[PauciloquentPumpkin]

Persia gave a quick glance to the outstretched hand of the woman. She gives a short huff, not believing the words of a woman that's infiltrated two separate places before her very eyes. Though her demeanor doesn't change at all. She remained silent as she contemplated her next move. Luckily, her next move is quickly decided for her as a man bursts through the door in a drunken stupor. He begins to mumble something unintelligibly, causing Persia's eyes to dart over. In the blink of an eye she pushes against her rival with the full might of her body, shoving her towards the man. In the next instance she was already dashing towards the corner that she dropped from earlier. With a jump and a few kicks she easily cleared the distance to the ceiling.

She didn't even bother replacing the tile as she began quickly navigating the space. She called out through the tiles as she passed over where she guessed the woman and man were from before, "Maybe you should think about a career change." It was unnecessary, though not said with malicious intent or tone. It just sort of slipped out. For some reason the woman just frustrated her, the way she strolls around casually like she had every right to be there. Either way, Persia was in possession of her mark as she expertly snaked her way back onto the roof, scaled her way back down, and sneaked seamlessly away into the night.

It wasn't until she stood outside of her boss' home that she realized she wasn't in possession of the ring. Her head shot up, eyes widened to their limits as her heart started to pump furiously. Her hands began to search her body frantically, her mind raced, wondering what happened. The ring was secure around her thumb. Did it somehow get caught on something? Did she drop it? No, there's no way. Her head shoots up again. Was it the woman from before? She made a play with a handshake, was she really so skilled that she snatched it straight from her hand when Persia shoved her?

Persia gave a slight shiver. Not from the cold of the night's wind, which could have caused it, but from anger. Not at the woman, but herself for underestimating her. She recalls her comment to the woman previously, feeling stupid now for it. The anger built, and built, until she couldn't contain it anymore. She let out a muffled grunt as she launched her fist at the nearby no parking sign. She left a dent, as blood started to trickle down her right arm. Tears formed in her eyes, not from the pain, but from thoughts at the consequences for her failure.

Persia composed herself, and steeled herself as she walked towards the house. After being let in and presented to the boss, she prepared herself. Brutus said, with a particularly wide smile, "I take it you have what I want?"

Persia lowers her head, giving a slow shake of her head. The smile disappears from Brutus' face, and with surprising speed for such a large man, the back of his hand was propelled from across the table, smashing into Persia's face, knocking her to the ground. Brutus wore many rings, one of them cut into Persia's cheek, causing blood to trickle down like tears. She remained on her hands and knees, facing the floor, waiting for what's to come next.

With a surprising lack of anger, Brutus spoke, "This is the first time you've failed me. I'm not such an unreasonable man, you know. I know people aren't perfect." His voice took on a sinister tone after that. "Fail me again though, and I'll be forced to think you aren't motivated enough. And, as you know, I've had my men," he took a slight pause for effect, which worked effectively, sending fear shooting through Persia at his next words, "protecting your brother. Such a sickly fella." Persia gritted her teeth, her usual cool composure starting to crack. Brutus said, with a hint of annoyance in his voice, "I'll have the details of the next job emailed to you." Persia took this as her queue to leave. She stood up with as much grace and dignity she could muster in the situation as she walked out, keeping her eyes straight ahead. She moved calmly, but couldn't wait to leave.

 

[Araellion]

Her eyes snapped towards the man entering, quickly assessing his state. She didn't have the time to do anything besides scan his face, discovering two things. One: it was Mark, one of the other designated mentors. Two: he looked black out drunk and hopefully wouldn't remember any of this.

Hera gave a startled shout as she was tipped off balance, desperately reaching out a hand as a final resort. She didn't grab anything to help her regain her balance though, which would almost be preferable to the ring clutched in her white-knuckled grip. As it was, Hera fell against Mark, both of them ending up on the ground in a heap. Not the most dignified moment of her life. Thankfully the adrenaline coursing through her system meant she couldn't feel any pain. Not yet. She would probably have bruises on her back and arms tomorrow though. Lovely.

She smiled as the woman's voice floated over to her from God knows where. Yeah, maybe Hera really wasn't cut out for this job. That had been a way too close call. Then again, she had never had any problems with that before. Before she met whatever her name was, Hera had completed all of her missions. Not flawlessly, but good enough. Any mistakes she made Jamie could usually fix for her. Like dealing with this gang. She doubted they would come after her, but better safe than sorry.

But despite everything, this job was so much fun. Her smile probably looked slightly manic, and Hera was glad nobody was watching. This was also the first peaceful moment she had had all week. Half-lying on top of Mark, who was slowly coming to, Hera was happy. She put the ring in one of her pockets, once again grateful for the outfit. The jacket had deep pockets with zippers so nothing fell out. More than safe enough since no one suspected she had the ring.

Due to the way lower alcohol content in her blood, Hera recovered first. She dragged Mark up with her, supporting a lot of his weight and steering him away from the man lying on the floor. One problem at a time. Besides, that guy wasn't even her problem. Hera wasn't the one who had knocked him out. It was kind of refreshing not to have to clean up every mess.

Together Hera and Mark made their way back to the bar. Her headache instantly intensified, both from the adrenaline wearing off and all the noise. Good grief, she almost wished she had stayed in the damned vault if this was the alternative. Hera dropped Mark off at one of the tables, leaving him with his fellow mentors. "Found him lying around, probably best to get him home or something," Hera said with a laugh.

She stayed for a few minutes, making the rounds and saying goodbye to everyone. It would be suspicious if she just left and was never heard from again. At last Hera was standing outside, breathing in the icy night air. Finally she could go home and relax. She had considered calling a taxi, before spotting Jamie's car. Huh, she was still here. How thoughtful.

With a drunken grin, Hera made her way over and slipped inside. Just to be obnoxious, she made sure to slam the car door. Jamie gave her an unimpressed look. "Just how much did you have to drink?"

And for some reason Hera found that question unbearably funny. "Shut up, I'm not drunk," She managed to get out through her giggles. It was true too. It was more like she was high from the success. She hadn't been in a high risk situation like that in so long, and the victory tasted sweeter than ever.

Sensing that Hera was in the middle of a laughing fit, Jamie just rolled her eyes and started the car. After a while the rumbling from the engine calmed her down, and Hera was rapidly growing tired.

"Remind me again why I put up with you?" Jamie muttered under her breath with a fond smile.

"Because you love me~" Hera replied jokingly, before falling asleep.

 

[PauciloquentPumpkin]

Persia spent the rest of the night cleaning up and relaxing before finally falling asleep. She lived in a quaint apartment, part of a large apartment building, her room just one of many just like it. The next day, Persia thought about visiting her brother, but didn't want to be seen in her condition. Instead, she rested, hoping to speed the process of healing as she constantly checked her email on her phone. She passed the time with her thoughts, playing fantasies in her mind. It seemed silly and childish, but imagining herself as a superhero, or some other such savior of the day was how she found comfort during trying times. Though she would never admit this, for it so strongly went against her personality.

After a while, she finds her thoughts are no longer enough to distract her. She dressed in her usual black colors and left, making her way to her favorite bar. She watched the sunset during her walk, appreciating the last bits of warmth offered before the true chill came. She noticed people staring at the wound on her left cheek, causing her to draw her hood up. She was an erratic visitor to the bar, Lucas', but was known by the barkeep, and had an active tab she paid off occasionally.

Persia was greeted by Lucas, the owner of the bar that is clearly named after himself, though she ignored him. It was the typical exchange they shared, one that Lucas didn't seem to mind. She took up her favorite seat, at the very end of the bar on the far end, away from other people. As she sat, Lucas already had her usual. A cheap beer and a Gin. Lucas's eyes widened slightly before returning to normal when he came close, able to see the new addition to her face. A slight pause, then he decided to double her order without a word. He knew she wouldn't talk even if he tried. If the bar weren't so busy, he'd have started talking to her randomly, about nothing in particular. Persia often appreciated these, even if she never really talked back.

The smell of alcohol and cheap cologne wafting through the room helped to relax Persia. She slowly sipped her drinks as the hours passed. She never really got drunk, she hated the feeling of losing control. Though it helped to numb the pain and slow the whirl of thoughts of the situation that is her life now. Her drawn hood, as well as her grim demeanor helped to ward off any men that felt like trying to flirt with her. If that wasn't enough, her icy stare and lack of words were enough to finish the job.

 

[Araellion]

The day after her successful thievery was a bit off a mess. Jamie insisted she told her everything that had happened and as usual Hera complied. And if she left out a few particular details, well, that's only because they weren't important to mention. She trusted Jamie with her life, that wasn't the problem. For some reason Hera just wanted to keep the other thief to herself.

And if being questioned by Jamie wasn't bad enough, Hera had to go to the police station and give an official statement about the gang and their dealings. Hopefully they would all be arrested and Hera could go about her life without having to worry about them coming after her. Besides, it was always wise to be on the police's good side. Just in case she really got herself into trouble one day.

When that was over and done with she was alone in her apartment. Jamie was busy, and she's the only person Hera felt like casually hanging out with, and even Skimbles just wanted to nap in peace. Lovely. Even work wasn't much of a distraction. After this week Hera wanted some time to relax. She would have to sell the ring, but doing so right now when the gang was probably looking for it wasn't a good idea.

"Skimbles, I'm bored," Hera whined, and only got a flick of his tail in response. He was lying curled up on top of a box in the corner of her living room. Not that he didn't have a perfectly nice and fluffy bed right next to it. She had kept the box when she moved in here because he seemed to like it so much. Clearly an excellent decision.

With a sigh, Hera stood up and went to grab her coat. She was wearing another one of her fluffy hoodies, light blue this time, and some flowy pastel pink pants. At least her black overcoat helped cover up the bright colors. "Fine, fine. Have a nice nap them." She didn't even get a response this time. Sighing again, she left her apartment to find something to do. Even wandering around in the evening air was refreshing. Sadly, most things were closed at this hour. She stopped outside of a bar, considering going inside.

Her headache hadn't been that bad. Some water and solid food had made it disappear entirely. She would just take it easy with the drinking today. Hera had gone out to look for company, not to drown her sorrows. And if bars weren't the best places to meet people then Hera didn't know what was.

Mind made up, Hera went inside and scanned the place. She had plenty of time to kill and was looking for a challenge. Of course she wasn't enough of an asshole to keep bothering people if they clearly wanted her gone, but it was fun to see how far she could push her luck sometimes.

She spotted a lone figure sitting at the end of the bar, and figured that was her perfect target. The person very obviously didn't want to be bothered, so Hera ordered a glass of wine and approached. Because clearly she had no self-preservation instincts.

"Hi, is this seat taken?" In the middle of her sentence she had already sat down and was beaming at the other person. Maybe her positive energy would spill over and cheer up this lonesome figure?

 

[PauciloquentPumpkin]

A feminine voice spoke, breaking Persia from her thoughts. She was prepared to just ignore it, but there was something familiar about it. Persia slowly turned to meet the familiar face. Upon recognizing the face, Persia's body exploded upward, causing the stool she was sitting on to eject itself from it's position, a glass of Gin followed suit, smashing into pieces somewhere behind the bar. Her short stature causing her to stand nearly level with the woman, inches from her. Lucas took notice, but made no move. He's seen Persia get into bar fights with men before, there was no way he was going to attempt to get in the middle of anything going on over there. Though he still kept a worried eye on the matter, as he felt a friendly fondness for Persia.

A murderous rage flashed from Persia's eyes, further enhanced by the wound that shone in the light. Her body tensed, hands curled into fists. Her body shook from the effort as her heart raced and adrenaline started pumping and her breathing rapidly increased. The intent in her eyes lasted only a few seconds, though it felt like an eternity. Were this very situation to happen in an empty alley or building, she may well have killed her first person, right there on the spot. Thoughts of strangling the woman subsided, her body returning to normal as she realized where she was. Persia looked around, only a few curious stares, but it seems the noisy bar left most people occupied elsewhere.

Persia collected herself, her cold, calm demeanor returning, much to Lucas' relief. She picked up her stool and sat back down, taking time to collect her thoughts. There were many things she could have said. She could have mentioned how she had nothing on her to pickpocket, a statement of spite referencing the ring the woman stole. She could have threatened her life. She could have just punched her in the face, which would certainly have felt good. Ultimately, feeling defeated, she settled on, "I feel like you're a curse placed on me. How many times will we run into each other?" She said this looking forward, behind the bar, not bothering to face her newfound rival.

 

[Araellion]

Well then. So much for positive energy. Hera flinched, both at the quick movement and the sound of glass shattering. That was never a good sound. Her muscles were tense, ready to flee if necessary. Good grief, she just wanted to relax. More adrenaline was the last thing she needed. She took in the woman's face while waiting for her to move, keeping an eye out for any signs of her preparing to attack. And just when Hera really thought the girl would try something, she relaxed. Thank goodness.

Since the danger was over, Hera relaxed once more, tilting her head as she watched the woman. It felt like the air was heavy and gloomy, drained of all the earlier electricity. She thinks she preferred seeing the other woman angry. This was just depressing. After taking a fortifying sip of her wine, Hera turned in her chair to fully face the other woman. She didn't mind her not looking at Hera. That could be worked on.

"Well, seeing as the score is 1-1 I'd say we're equally cursed," Hera pointed out reasonably. "Besides, this is a small town. I'm surprised we haven't run into each other earlier." Because really, how many criminals could there possibly be here? Surely this was a common occurrence for other people. Surely.

"More importantly, what happened to you? We saw each other just a few hours ago!" Well, a day ago, but that still counted. Her voice was tinged with concern, even though the cruel part of her wasn't surprised. The woman had probably just gotten herself into some trouble. She wanted to reach out and turn the other thief's face towards her to get a better look. But that would definitely get her punched, so she shoved the impulse away.

Hera was a naturally touchy feely person, but this was a delicate situation. She would have to approach this carefully, like how she would deal with a scared wild animal. And that meant no touching, she sternly told herself.

 

[PauciloquentPumpkin]

Persia almost burst out laughing when the woman mentioned the score. She thought it was laughable she could even begin to compare their situations. She gave an internal wince at the question, which was clearly about her face. Finally, Persia moved to face the woman. There were so many things she wanted to say. She wanted to berate her for her happy-go-lucky attitude, her vibrant energy, her carefree personality. She hated this woman on an indescribable level. Though it was based more on jealousy. Persia felt shackled, unable to let herself be so carefree, though desperately wanting nothing more.

She gave a long, contemplative look towards the woman. Her eyes calm and emotionless. Her usual look, though it wasn't always like that. She reached up to take down her hood, which also revealed her wounded knuckles, though the two injuries were separate events. In a calm, grim voice she replied, "We can't all live a carefree life. For some of us, failure has consequences." She's not sure what made her add the next bit. Maybe she wanted to make the woman feel bad. Maybe she wanted to be pitied. Either way, she continued, "I'm lucky this was all that happened." She studied the woman's reaction with a powerful gaze, not shying away in the slightest. Wondering if she should have said anything at all.

Lucas kept an eye on the situation in between serving other customers. He was tall, and both rugged, and exceptionally handsome. Something that's helped him in this business. He hasn't moved to clean up the mess of glass and alcohol on the floor. It's something he could get to later. He cared for Persia. At one point he even thought he had feelings for her, though she was a very difficult woman to approach, let alone get close to. He could see she was distressed, and this other woman was the cause. He'd never seen her react like that before. He had figured she was in a bad spot, but he was certain of it now. He desperately tried to think of ways to help, but, as always, drew up blanks. Regardless, Persia never struck him as the type that needed, or wanted saving in the first place.

 

[Araellion]

Hera winced in sympathy as the rest of the injuries were revealed. The bruises on her back were practically nothing in comparison. Hell, they barely even hurt. She couldn't imagine how painful the cuts were. As careless as Hera often was, she was also incredibly lucky. Very few had drawn any weapons against her, and nobody had ended up actually harming her so far. A few bruises and cuts on her hands and knees, sure. But nothing as serious as what the other woman was sporting.

"I'm glad that's all that happened." Hera's mind was going a mile a minute, trying to puzzle together the pieces she was getting. She was still concerned though, and honestly glad that the injuries weren't any worse. Hopefully they would heal quickly and any traces would fade over time. She knew that was the best case scenario though, which was unlikely to happen. Especially if she got more injuries on top of the old ones.

"Is there anything I can do to help?" Hera held the woman's gaze, trying to convey her sincerity through her eyes alone. If there was anything at all she could do, Hera wanted to help. If only to see the other woman smile. She had only seen her look angry and aloof so far and desperately wanted to change that. Hera hated seeing people in pain.

"If it would help I can give you the ring? I'm only doing this for fun after all. It's not like I need the money." Even as she said that, Hera was hesitant to give up her hard earned prize. It was a reminder of everything that had happened and she desperately wanted to keep a solid memento. But if it helped she would give it up in a heartbeat.

She wasn't lying about not needing the money either. Hera wasn't rich, but not far off from it either. People had asked her multiple times why she still lived in a tiny apartment in the middle of the city if she had all this money. And that's because she was content like that. Why waste money on unnecessary things?

 

[PauciloquentPumpkin]

The woman's comment, 'I'm glad that's all that happened," angered Persia. She wanted to punch her, to watch her suffer. The thought gave her pause, wondering when she became so angry. Of course, she knew the answer. The moment Brutus came into her life. When the woman asked if there was anything she could do, Persia was stricken. She was either actually sincere, or she was an extremely talented liar. Of course, Persia leaned towards the latter. She figured it was how she managed her way into people's circles.

There were a lot of ways Persia thought the woman could help. She could move far, far away. Or better yet, she could kill Brutus. Though, the frail frame of the woman left the impression on Persia that she would be wholly incapable of such a feat. Maybe she had so much money that she could pay off Brutus. Regardless, Persia was too prideful to accept help anyways. She turned back, facing once again behind the bar as she replied bluntly, "You can stay out of my way." Persia was fully intent on ending the conversation there, returning to her drinking like the woman beside her didn't exist.

If Persia didn't excel in self control, the comment about returning the ring might have caused her to explode like she did earlier, ready to beat the woman senseless. Instead, she dryly commented, "The damage has been done. You can keep your little trinket." She tried to convey just how little this sentiment meant to her. Lucas had been eavesdropping, a fact that would surely piss Persia off, but he couldn't help but worry. He took this opportunity to slide over and interject, completely ignoring the mess made behind the bar, "Hello ladies. Another Gin, Persia?" Lucas, of course, had already prepared another drink for her, presenting it even as he presented the question.

Persia shot an icy glance towards Lucas, upset he called her by name, which now let the other woman know her name. It infuriated her, like the woman now had a bit of power over her, though she didn't let it show. The glance lasted for only a moment before she returned her gaze to the wall. Lucas hadn't noticed, having turned his attention the the other woman already. With his award winning smile, and the charm that has helped to keep his business booming, he began chatting with the woman, "And who might this beautiful young woman be?" Lucas was suave, if the women surrounding the bar weren't evidence enough. He continued, "What's your drink? On the house." One could almost swear an actual twinkle appeared when he smiled. He had what could only be described as perfect teeth. His chiseled jaw and fantastically groomed facial hair accentuating his smile. He turned up the charm as much as he could, attempting to derail whatever conversation was taking place earlier.

 

[Araellion]

This woman was really trying to drive Hera away, and she was having none of it. If anything it made her more determined to get through to her. Surely there had to be something she could do? Her mind cycled through every possibility that popped into her head, but it would probably be useless. If this woman was determined to be like this then there wasn't a whole lot Hera could do at the moment.

At least she didn't have to hand over the ring. She would have gone home and fetched it if the woman had asked, but Hera was kinda glad that hadn't been necessary. The longer she sat here the more she felt like keeping the ring. It would be risky, and she would have to find some secure location for it, but that was fine. Hiding it from the police and any potential thieves would be a piece of cake. Hiding it from Skimbles on the other hand...

Hera had been preparing to respond, but the bartender cut in. How annoying. Well, on the positive side Hera now knew the woman's name. It was an odd one, but then Hera couldn't exactly judge. At least it would be easier to remember than anything generic. Was it even her real name though? Hera felt like it was. Surely if you wanted a fake name you would choose something generic and easy to forget?

Her eye twitched in annoyance as the bartender turned his attention to her, but her smile never faded. It just gained a colder edge. The most annoying thing was that even Hera could admit that he was objectively handsome. "This beautiful young woman isn't interested in anything you're offering," Hera shot back, her voice icy but still smiling. She put extra pressure on the word 'anything', just to make sure she got the point across.

Thankfully she still had a decent amount of wine left in her glass. She had been too distracted to drink. Feeling petty, she kept eye contact with the bartender as she took a sip of her wine, before pointedly turning back to Persia. It felt like the woman had built up even more walls in that short amount of time.

"Well anyways. My name is Hera," She said, trying to get the conversation back on track. It felt like a loosing battle though. "My parents weren't the best at names, obviously." A bit of laughter slipped out of her, fond memories of her parents coming to the forefront of her mind. She hoped they were doing alright.

 

[PauciloquentPumpkin]

Lucas put his hands up in mock defense, "Ooh, a spicy one. No worries, I got just the thing." His hands moved deftly as he mixed equal parts Jagermeister, Peach Schnapps and cranberry juice, listening on the conversation. At the same time, Persia was making an active effort to completely ignore any further conversation. She made no effort to move or change her current routine of lazily drinking and gazing off towards the wall.

"A drink with a hint of peach and a bitter undertone is a great counter for spicy," Lucas commented with a wink and a sly smile, sliding the glass towards Hera. He continued in Persia's stead, "Hera, queen of the gods, wife of Zeus. A powerful name, I'd say your parents weren't too bad at naming." Lucas wore an innocent smile as he pretended not to pick up on Hera's earlier signals, instead playing the pretty fool. Despite him doing the same thing to Hera that Hera was doing to her, Persia still appreciated his efforts. She moved her finger around the glass of gin in her hand as she began to let her thoughts wander.

 

[Araellion]

"I thought you drank milk after something spicy..." Hera muttered to herself, beyond done with this conversation. She didn't come here to get hit on by guys, or whatever the hell it was this one was doing. She sincerely hoped he was only trying to annoy her, because the alternative was far worse.

After draining the last of her wine, Hera stood up to leave. "I have a feeling we'll meet again, so I'll see ya later," she threw over her shoulder as she left, wanting to at least have the last word in this situation.

Well then. That had been an interesting twist of fate. Not what she had been looking for exactly, but it was definitely something. She could hit up another bar, but that bartender had left a bad taste in her mouth. It was a pity too, that wine had been pretty decent.

Instead she went back home, spamming Jamie with messages while she walked. Sooner or later she would give up on trying to work and indulge Hera or put her on mute. Could go either way. Hera hoped Jamie answered. She really wanted to rant about this evening, but still wanted to keep the other thief out of it.

 

[PauciloquentPumpkin]

Persia almost wanted to chuckle. Lucas had actually managed to drive Hera off. Though the fact they knew each others' names left a sour taste in her mouth. Lucas knew what he was doing when he made the drink as well, an old favorite of Persia's. She initially thought the rather vulgar name of the drink, Red Headed Slut, was amusing, but grew to love the drink, ordering it in celebration with her old team. Memories from before Brutus. Persia's eyes welled up slightly as she reached for the drink, though no tears fell. She didn't bother to look at Lucas as he set to work finally cleaning the mess behind the bar. She spent the rest of the night in silence.

A few days later she had received an email from Brutus. Or, more accurately, one of his lackeys. It appeared that Brutus wanted a painting for an empty space on his wall. It was from a museum with a rather high level of security. The accompanying photo showed the painting in question was an abstract. Human shapes melding together across a fiery hellscape. It was a bit much for Persia's tastes, though she did enjoy art in various mediums, especially natural photography.

She wasn't thrilled about the target location. Inspiration was the name of the museum. It had high level security. A plethora of guards, laser detection, silent alarms, heavy use of cameras, and complex display cases. Though it wasn't like she had a choice. Persia spent the next week preparing in her usual manner. Blueprints, stakeouts, and gathering the tools she would need. A week passed by in the blink of an eye, time blurring as she tried to focus. She found she couldn't help but worry about Hera interfering in her plans. She was determined not to lose to her again.

Inspiration, itself, was a work of art. A feat of architecture. It's walls were made of slick, opaque, glass-like panels. The building was a cuboid shape, rounded and twisting as it rose from the ground, three stories tall. A rather difficult climbing environment, thus leading to relatively few cameras and security on the outside. Though, Persia's finger alone could hold her weight. The thin crevices between tiles was enough for just that. When she made her way to the building, she donned cleats to further help her. She made sure they were rubber, to avoid making much noise against the outside panels.

The cold night air heralded the coming winter. Persia wasn't wearing any more than her usual outfit. Her full black garb, hood framing her face, and mask hiding the rest. Her small black backpack snug against her back. The building was well lit, including the outside and surrounding area. A beacon in the otherwise dark area. Persia knew the police patrol routes, and she was far from the residential districts, so there was little chance of her being seen from the outside, with the surrounding businesses having closed for the night. She looked up at the rising full moon, a sort of silent prayer before she began.

Persia spent some time inside the museum in the past week. She knew it was infinitely easier to see out of the museum than into it. A fact that made scaling the building a little nerve-wracking. She worked to alleviate this by memorizing guard patrols, and wall positions. There were a few areas with thick walls that could hide her fairly well, and she worked to stick to those areas. She scaled the building in just a few minutes. Her athleticism showed as she wasn't even out of breathe. Although a difficult climb, it wasn't long, and the evenly placed tiles made for monotonous work.

The wind chill was brutal on the roof of Inspiration. Though the roof was where most buildings had security flaws. Much like at Carlyle's, she quickly made her way inside through the vent system. Through memory of the blueprints, she worked her way silently, having switched out her cleats at this point for sneakers, through the vent system. She was making her way towards electrical control panels. The first thing she had to do was deactivate the laser detection system and silent alarms. The easiest of the tasks, in her mind, as she was a skilled electrician, and the wires were hidden from view, allowing her to work in peace.

Having made her way to a section of wiring, an access panel being attached from the inside of the vents, she quickly set herself to the task. A rather uneventful period, she didn't even bother replacing the wires and panels as she set out to her next task, sneaking past guards and unlocking the display case for the wall-mounted painting. Using her memory of the guard patrols, she sneaked her way past several guards, having a close call on a stairwell to the first floor, to the painting in question. She read the label when she made her way to the painting. 'Passion' Persia looked back at the painting, but didn't see the name fitting.

She grabbed a few tools from her bag and quickly set to the task of picking the lock. Having studied it from her previous visits, she figured it would be an easy task. As she thought, it unlocked easily. She placed down her tools and tugged on the display case. To her surprise, it didn't budge. Puzzled, she gave it a closer inspection. From the side she could see that there was also a magnetic lock. She couldn't get this angle of view on it previously without looking suspicious, so she missed it.

Thinking for a moment, she would have to somehow pry it open, or get whatever key was used to unlock that portion of the display case. She had a crowbar in her bag, so decided to give that a try, as picking pockets wasn't a skill she had much practice in. The thought of Hera flashed past her mind, causing her a bit of annoyance. She made a sour face as she set to work prying the display case apart. It worked, but a loud crack echoed through the museum as the magnet was forcefully ripped from the hard plastic of the case. A sound that Persia wished had not happened. Hastened, Persia quietly placed the case on the ground with a sharp thud. She grabbed the painting, which was rather large and unwieldy, and took off.

Persia dismantled the frame as she made her way towards he exit, meaning to leave the same way she came in. After she had the painted fabric free from it's brass prison, she rolled it up so it was easier to carry. A few rooms from her entrance back into the vents she could hear some footsteps. The guards were on high alert now, which meant their patrol patterns weren't being followed. A female guard turned the corner, making eye contact with Persia. For a moment Persia thought it was Hera. She was roughly the same size. The moment of confusion was enough for her to lose her footing, causing her to tumble over a slight step into the next room.

Persia landed on the painting, skidding across the floor. The female guard started running towards her, leaving her no time to inspect the painting. She just kept a hold of it as she quickly made her way to her feet and dashed off, quickly losing the guard. Half an hour later and Persia had calmed down enough to take in her situation. She was walking towards Brutus' home when she finally inspected the painting. She noticed a huge gash when she unrolled the fabric. Her heart dropped, causing her to stop in her tracks. Her mind raced, searching for a solution, though none presented itself. Should she present the painting anyways? No, she knew Brutus would not accept it, and it would only serve to make her look sloppy. For a moment, she thought of running away, but quickly tossed that idea out, as her brother would still be in danger. With quiet indignation, she tossed the painting into a nearby trash bin, and made her way to Brutus. Her best bet would be to try to work something out other than her brother's life.


Persia found herself standing outside of Brutus' home. A familiar place. She looked up towards the dented sign, her dried blood still stained the metal. It felt good, then, the pain. It served as a ward against the anger she felt towards Hera. Though, now, there was no anger. Fear stood menacingly in it's place, threatening to consume her. She felt like curling into a ball and willing the world away, but, once more, that wasn't an option, for she must persevere, for her brother. She took a deep breathe, and resigned herself to her fate as she began what felt like her last walk.

Brutus stood, ever so slowly, to his terrifying full height. Incredulity in his voice, "What do you mean, you don't have it?"

"It was destroyed," Came the dry response from Persia, her voice belying her fear.

Brutus' silence terrified her. He stood, motionless, for what seemed like an eternity, staring down Persia. Eventually, he held out his hand towards one of his lackeys, never taking his eyes off Persia, and Persia never looked him in the eyes. The lackey provided a phone, to which Brutus answered, like the person on the other end was already waiting. "How's our Garrett doing?"

Persia's brother's name caused her eyes to shoot up, widening in fear. "Please! No! I'll do anything, please!" Her composure was now fully lost, her quivering voice showing the fear she was hiding before. Her hands reached up, as if she could somehow will Brutus to stop.

"Anything?" Brutus replied, raising an eyebrow.

"Anything," came the whispered response, Persia's eyes lowering once more.

"Good, good," Brutus said into the phone. "Fluff his pillows. Make sure he's comfortable. See if there's anything you can do for him. Maybe buy him some ice cream or something." With that, he hung up the phone.

Persia knew he wasn't one for code. He often mentioned how his lackeys are there for Garrett's protection and comfort, like he was providing a service. Every time she visited her brother, he always talked about the nice men as well, leaving her to believe that she managed to get Brutus to spare his life. This time. Though the price would be steep. Brutus shooed his lackeys away, leaving him alone with her in his office.

Brutus side-stepped his regal desk, walking towards Persia. Slowly. Calmly. Then, a hand shot up, grasping Persia around her throat, causing her to gasp in surprise, as well as a newfound inability to breathe. He picked her up, single-handedly, and slammed her on top of the desk. She spent the night, the worst night of her life, in agony.

The Sun had started to rise, bringing the first hints of light to the land, when Persia found herself walking. Her clothes were torn. Bruises painted her throat, wrists, arms and ribs. She also had a black eye, and wondered if she should look into getting a morning after pill. She never thought she'd have to worry about something like that. She's heard so many stories of rape victims, but never thought that she, someone who was so strong and independent, would become one.

She was in shock. She had walked straight past the turn she needed to take, and just kept going. She even crossed several busy roads without bothering to stop. It was like she was a walking zombie. Her mind reliving the moment, over and over, unsure of reality anymore. All she could do was continue to walk, her face devoid of emotion, and what could barely be considered conscious.

 

[Araellion]

This thievery had gone off without a hitch. Flawless work, probably one of Hera's best. Especially considering she had only had four days to plan it out fully before the necklace would be moved to Australia. She was sitting in her apartment now, holding the diamond necklace with one hand, and petting Skimbles who was lying on her lap with the other, making Hera imagine herself as a Bond villain.

So the question remained; why wasn't she happy?

Fine, Hera wasn't ever one to get excited over jewelry, so that was expected. Looking at the diamond chain sparkling between her fingers gave her no joy whatsoever. Thinking about her successful mission gave her a small degree of satisfaction, but even that was duller than usual. Was she becoming bored with her job? No, that was impossible.

She put the diamond necklace on the table, not bothering to put it away properly since Skimbles was on her lap. Sliding down, Hera held her breath as she readjusted herself so she was lying on the couch with her cat on her stomach. Usually any small movement had a 50/50 chance of scaring him off, and Hera was grateful that he stayed put. He probably sensed that she needed him here. Skimbles could always tell.

"I don't know what it is Skimbs. I should be happy, but I'm not." Hera let out a deep sigh that had a slightly theatrical edge to it. She scratched behind his ears and played with the charm on his collar as she waited for a reply.

The collar was bright pink with a silver heart charm dangling in front with Hera's contact info engraved. Of course she had let Skimbles choose his own collar. He would be the one wearing it after all. After finding this one in the pet shop he had refused to try any other one, so Hera had of course gotten this one for him. The memory cheered her up a bit.

"Thanks for cheering me up, but I still don't know why I'm so disappointed." Skimbles was just looking at her, waiting for Hera to elaborate.

"Well, before this I loved my work. Every successful mission would leave me buzzing with good energy for at least a few days." Hera threw her hands to the sky in annoyance, trying to work out what had changed. It was a miracle Skimbles was still here. "So what changed?"

She could have sworn that his gaze now had a judgemental air to it, like Hera was just being an idiot. Letting out a huff, Hera thought through her last few weeks, trying to come up with something. Her thoughts kept straying to Persia, which made sense. She had been there during two out of three heists, so of course she popped into Hera's mind. That much was a given.

"Nope, still no idea. You're a terrible therapist." Skimbles didn't look very amused, even if Hera was close to outright laughing. He jumped off of her and his entire posture screamed of indignation, which did make Hera laugh. "Wait, come back! I didn't mean it!"

Hera jumped up from the couch and followed Skimbles into her bedroom. He had jumped up on her bed and was currently lying curled up on her pillow. Something he is well aware that he's not allowed to do. God, getting all the fur out would be a nuisance, but she held her tounge. Trying to shoo him away would be useless and picking him up would lead to a bloodbath.

Well, if you can't beat them, join them. So Hera sat down on the edge of her bed, looking around her small bedroom. There was really only a bed, a bedside table, and a closet in here. Not that there was space for anything else.

Her eyes strayed to the ring on her bedside table. She had put it in a see-through hard plastic box, so Skimbles wouldn't play with it and then put it somewhere she wouldn't be able to find it. Not as secure as she had first planned, but she now understood why someone would keep a golden goblet somewhere so not secure.

"So much for not keeping jewellery around, huh?"

"Meow."

That meow had sounded incredibly annoyed. Probably because Hera had woken him up. Or maybe he was still trying to tell her something?

The ring was special. It was hard earned, but so was most of her loot. Still, just looking at it made her excited, even though the buzz from that heist had worn off. Was it winning against Persia that was the reason? Somehow Hera had gotten used to running into Persia, so not seeing her today had been disappointing. Gods, it was so stupid. They had never run into each other before, so it made sense that they wouldn't always run into each other now.

And frankly, that should be a good thing. Hera had lost the goblet because of Persia. But she wasn't even annoyed about it. The anger had burned itself out quickly and after the conversation at the bar a few days ago she almost just felt guilty about the whole thing. What had Persia meant about consequences? Hera had spent too much time trying to find a satisfying answer to that. Maybe she was working for someone who didn't tolerate failure? That was her best guess.

But, it had been fun. Being thwarted like that by the other woman had been exciting and winning even better. Maybe that was why she was so unhappy now? She didn't like to admit it, but it made sense.

She lay down and looked at Skimbles who was now fast asleep. "Maybe you aren't such a bad therapist after all."


After the diamond heist, as she had now come to refer to it, Hera took some time off to relax. Jamie was too busy with work to find her anything to steal, and while Hera could do that herself, she just didn't feel like it.

Besides, Hera had also been dragged into Jamie's work. Sort of. Apparently her written account about the Carlyle's club had been enough to get a good amount of them arrested, but she still had to testify in court. That meant having to sit with the prosecutor for hours at the time in a way too luxurious office, going through all the details and learning how to answer questions properly. As if Hera hadn't done this enough times to know about that by now.

The court date was set to a few days later at 9am, much to Hera's dismay. She had really hoped to sleep for a bit longer than that. But after nearly throwing her phone at the wall after it kept reminding her to wake up, she was awake and dressed. Since this was an event that required formal clothing, Hera took the chance to wear one of her suits. A red one with black lapels and black flowy pants this time.

Even such an exciting case as this was incredibly boring. Hera mostly sat half-listening wishing she was at home with her cat. She had sadly not gotten to spend a lot of time with him these past few days and vowed to take him out for a walk tomorrow morning.

Finally she was called up to the stand to speak. And even this was depressingly boring. She was mostly here to answer questions about her written account and comment on some evidence. The most exciting part of the whole ordeal was when the defence attacked her directly claiming that she was a part of the gang as well, but that had been quickly shot down by both the prosecution and the judge. She didn't know whether to be relieved or disappointed.

She was grateful for Bernie not being there though. The last thing she wanted was to have to look at him the whole time she was trying to get him and his friends jailed. Even just thinking about it made her feel a twinge of guilt. But, she reassured herself, they deserved to be in prison for ruining other people's lives. The streets would be slightly safer without the gang roaming around.

After that was over and done with, Jamie had invited her out to the pub. Hera had considered staying home and watching Christmas rom-coms that were already on TV. Like gingerbread men and Christmas lights, the rom-coms came earlier and earlier every year. Not that she was complaining all that much. But, they would be there all Christmas. And both she and Jamie could use some stress relief.

Instead of going to the pub though, they ended up buying some pastries and hot cocoa at a small café. The day was filled with chatter about everything and anything, just enjoying each other's company. And it was nice to get out of her head for a bit. All of her inner turmoil that had plagued her earlier this week faded into the background.


The next morning Hera was once again woken up early by her stupid alarm. She had set it up wrong and as a result she was woken up at sunrise. Good god, that was way too early to be up. Hera tried to go back to sleep, but Skimbles kept tickling her nose with his tail. Well, she had promised him a walk. No time like the present.

She only took the time for a quick shower before putting on her usual casual clothes, her overcoat, and putting on Skimbles' harness and leash. Even though the sun was out, it was still close to winter and freezing outside. Apparently Skimbles was completely unbothered by that, eagerly running ahead of her and exploring.

Smiling at his antics, Hera let Skimbles lead her wherever he wanted to go. She had to admit that it was peaceful out so early in the morning. The only people walking around were those on their way to work, or on their way to the park to jog.

She came across some people who looked worried, or disgusted, though. Now that was interesting. Hera's curiosity compelled her to find out what was going on. And she kind of wished she hadn't.

There walking around was Persia, though Hera had barely recognised her. If she thought Persia had looked bad last time they had met, that was nothing. Hera almost dropped the leash in her hurry to get to the woman.

"Good god, are you alright?" Her voice carried barely held back panic. She wanted to reach out and comfort any way she could, but that was probably a terrible idea right now. Hera didn't know the extent of her injuries, for one thing. Besides, she knew injured animals had a tendency to lash out, and was willing to bet that that was true for some humans too.

"Nevermind, stupid question. Just come with me." Hera would absolutely not take no for an answer right now. She knew they couldn't go to a hospital, even though that would be the smartest thing to do. They would ask too many questions and she didn't know about Persia, but if Hera was in that situation she wouldn't want to go to a hospital either. Hera would have to patch her up herself.

 

[PauciloquentPumpkin]

Persia let Hera guide her, like a well-trained puppy, as they made their way back to Hera's home. Her unfocused eyes lacked any response or recognition of her surroundings. Even the now familiar voice and face of Hera did not incite the anger and hatred it should have. Nor was there any hint of fear or pain, all of which should have been present. There was simply nothing. A void. An abyss. Even the frigid morning air refused to register a reaction, though her skin was cold to the touch. She was simply an obedient zombie, devoid of her connection to this plane of existence.