Ari ♫ ♪ ♬ (gracenotes) wrote in emillion, @ 2013-05-09 22:38:00 |
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Entry tags: | !complete, !narrative, arielle chiaro |
Looking for some trouble tonight, take my hand, I'll show you the wild side...
Who: Ari
What: Narrative: a job for Vivi
Where: An estate in the noble quarter
When: Late tonight
Rating: PG-13
Status: Complete
There were any number of inconveniences that Ari could attribute to being petite, but as she shimmied through the tiny bathroom window, scarcely large enough to admit a child, she had to admit that it did have its advantages. She had considered several methods to gain entry to the estate, but in the end had chosen this one for its relative simplicity. She certainly could have secured an invitation to the party downstairs, but she did not frequently slip away from dancing to steal blatantly from her hosts, as easy as it usually turned out to be – sooner or later, someone was bound to think of comparing guest lists and connecting dots, and she did not intend to stand out. Posing as a servant had been another option – there were any number of temporary workers for these sorts of things – but it was better, now that more people were familiar with her face, to remain out of sight entirely if she could help it.
She found it humorous, when she thought of it, that her increasing success in one of her occupations made her other so much more challenging. Not that she wasn’t up to the challenge, she thought, standing in the darkened bathroom and rubbing her shoulder where it had banged rather painfully against the windowsill.
She opened the door softly, her steps inaudible on the carpet. The sounds of revelry rose from downstairs, distant and merry, but the immediate vicinity was silent as she crept down the hallway, counting doors. Fourth door on the right, ornate knob, simplistic lock, just as reported. She knelt and inserted a fine pick into the keyhole; it took three slow breaths, in and out, before the door clicked open. Up and in, then; the door closed quietly behind her and she leaned against it, her ears prickling with quiet. Withdrawing a scrap of magicite from her pocket, she concentrated and whispered until a crackle of electricity shot from her fingers. Her Thunder was pathetic by anyone’s standards, but it would charge the stone for at least half an hour – in its faint red glow, the office around her came into focus.
Thick carpet on the floor, which was good. Rather ostentatious furnishings, heavy on the gilt and carving, a curtained window, a generous sofa, and shelves upon shelves of books and knick-knacks. No pictures on the walls, no visible protrusions that would indicate a hidey-hole of any sort. Considering a moment, she approached the shelves, scanning the titles. A few novels, some poetry, a few books on business, a history or two, then… A Treatise on the Mating Habits of Coeurls in the Wild. The book looked as though it had never been opened, but there was not a speck of dust on it. She rolled her eyes as she reached for the thick tome. Tugging it out of the way, she saw the telltale edge of a safe door.
Really, people needed to be more creative. What looked like it didn’t belong often hid something else behind it. Pulling out the adjacent book – an equally thick text on botany which had also clearly never been read – she brought her glowing magicite shard and her eyes up to the lock to examine it. Symbols ringed it, but no numbers – an affectation which made the combination slightly more difficult to guess, if one was guessing. Fortunately, she did not intend to guess. With another deep breath, in and out, she set to work.
Opening a safe by ear was nothing short of tedious, but if one knew how to listen very carefully, only patience was required. She kept track of time in her head – twenty minutes since she had arrived in the office, a quarter to midnight, and the dancing downstairs would still be in full swing. Fortunately, she was not above the ballroom; no rhythm of percussion penetrated the floor from the level below, and she did not lose count.
The lock clicked. A smile spread across her face.
Before she could swing the door open and fully appreciate the safe’s contents, she heard hurried footsteps outside the door. Thinking quickly, she stuffed the glowing crystal in her pocket, shoved the books back in their place against the open door – one was upside down, damn it, but no time to correct the error – and dove behind the desk just as the door opened and a feminine giggle sounded. She hummed under her breath, so soft that it was barely audible, but for this, it was enough. She went perfectly still and felt rather than saw her contours fade, then melt away.
“Oh no, sir, oh no! Oh, I couldn’t possibly!” She could not risk moving, but she did roll her eyes. Sneaking out to fondle the help while his wife was occupied with guests? How perfectly… pedestrian.
She suffered through nine minutes – she counted – of breathy giggles and low grunts and “oh no’s” turning into “oh yesses” and thought that the mating habits of coeurls in the wild were probably more inventive. Faram save her from noblemen; the sounds he made were obscene enough on their own; when coupled with the obviously faked cries of the woman and his incredibly sad stamina, the result was downright tragic. Was it any wonder she intended to remain single? The one blessing for this slob’s wife was likely the fact that he was too busy tupping the hired help to be bothered with her very often.
A tragic thought indeed.
She was hardly winded from the humming when they departed – first the girl, then the man – but her legs were asleep by the time she dared to stand and stretch. She wrinkled her nose in the direction of the couch, then returned to the bookcase. The safe yielded a number of scrolls – she unrolled them until she found the correct one, then put the rest back – and several jewelry cases. She was not the best with a loupe, but she spot-checked a few pieces, just to ascertain she was not taking paste. Vivi had been right – the emeralds were particularly lovely. She selected a ruby pendant – easy enough to pop the stone and melt down the hideous setting – and a pair of pearl drops that were actually tasteful – may wonders never cease – for her own cut, then put the rest of the jewelry back. If anyone ever tried hawking that diamond monstrosity masquerading as a brooch, he or she would be arrested on the basis of poor taste alone.
She locked the safe, put back the books, put the scroll down her shirt and the jewelry in her vest’s inner pockets, and made her way back across the room. She even managed, after a few moments of effort, to lock the office door behind her. Her steps were light and cheerful, almost dancing in time with the music from downstairs, as she made her way back to the convenient bathroom window and out onto the gently sloped roof. From here, it was easier than the estate's idiot owner would have believed to transfer over to the garden wall where the roof hung over it and climb down a sturdy trellis.
Being petite definitely had some advantages.
Keeping to the shadows, the young woman in her dark, nondescript clothing hummed under her breath as she strolled down the deserted street to the nearest crystal – which would take her back to the docks and Wil’s warehouse, where she could change her clothes and catch a few additional hours of sleep.
All in all, it had been a night’s work very well done.