Radha "Rye" Lawless (rock_and_rye) wrote in theunboundic, @ 2020-07-12 22:32:00 |
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Entry tags: | ! time: july 3 - 9, bleddyn cadoc, radha lawless |
What do you know?
Who: Bleddyn & Radha
What: Get that bread
When: Saturday, July 9, Late Afternoon
Where: The Temple
Canwyn's tended to load up the donations of stale goods real heavy-like on Saturdays, Radha had long ago noticed. Feeding a community every Sunday took an actual village, and the bakery was no slouch. Sometimes, they left the boxes of breads and sweets out back, and it was easy to just pass by at the right time (after spending an inordinate amount of time waiting to see it appear and then be left unattended), casually, and fill the basket of her skirt up with croissants and loaves and then book it outta there. The day had gotten away from her, though. By the time she made it over to the bakery, they were in full evening shift swing, with not even a single fallen sweet roll collecting dirt on the ground. Maybe she should've given up at that point. Write it off as a gross oversight on her part. Learn from her mistakes. So she approached the temple entrance with only mild caution. She had her heart dead set on some cheese on toast for dinner, and sure, maybe she didn't have any cheese yet either, but she also didn't have any bread, so she'd just take the process one step at a time. Step one: find the free bread. Rye slowed in the doorway, focused more on sniffing the air and keeping an eye out for a literal trail of breadcrumbs than keeping an eye out for anyone snooping around. Who'd be at the temple on a Saturday afternoon? The new Robor she'd heard about must've had better shit to do, and their old Danu was behind bars, so. When the cats were away, the mice steal bread. Or however that went. Just inside the main temple, on the pew closest to the door, sat a few familiar baskets of baking. Jackpot. The Searu slipped further inside and hurriedly untied her handy shawl from around her waist where it had previously just looked like a fashion accessory sitting over her skirt, which was rolled up at the waistband to land closer to mid-calve on account of the heat. A shawl was good if it got chilly and all, sure, but it was so much more: a blanket to lay down if she wanted to display some stolen watches to sell in a back alley (and quickly bundled back up to hoof it outta there); protection to wrap around her fist if she ever needed to break a window; self-defense, in case she ever needed to strangle a bloke; a disguise in the event she needed to hide her signature curls; and, as she was using it just then, to load up a few loaves and cookies into as a makeshift sack. Greedy as always, she stuffed a stale scone into her mouth and quickly started tying up her shawl over her stolen goods meant for the poor. Well. Poorer than her, who had a roof over her head and a canister of tea, so really, how bad off could she be? |