Radha "Rye" Lawless (rock_and_rye) wrote in theunboundic, @ 2020-08-27 23:33:00 |
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Entry tags: | ! time: current: july 10 - 16, henri danior, radha lawless |
On the west side, the southwest side, middle east, rich house, doghouse, outhouse
Who: Henri & Radha
What: Definitely Successful B&E
When: Wednesday Evening, July 12th
Where: Outside the Red Thrush
It was a warm, clear summer night. A nice break from the days of rain, and the ground was still a little soft and muddy here and there. If not for the fuckers out on patrol, it would've been a perfect night for some light burgling. Well, the fuckers, and the curfew. Ha. Curfew, schmurfew. Radha had figured out by that point the comings and goings of the extra lawmen that'd been brought into town, and it definitely had nothing to do with that bartender showing her the blind spots and the safest spots to avoid them. Absolutely nothing to do with it. She used her intel she definitely hadn't gotten from anyone else to pick her way to the Thrush on account of the Cloves she'd seen come through earlier. And specifically watched to make sure she counted how many of them had checked into the inn. And had done a little quick recon to get an idea of what floor they were on, at least, before she got shooed on outta there. Rye crouched in the shadows along the back of the inn, stepping away from the wall every so often only to watch the lamp lights in the second floor windows, waiting for them to dim to signify the out-of-towners had gone downstairs, or out to Antoinne's, which she'd heard the innkeeper touting as a local attraction perfect for Cloves. It took a solid fucking hour for one of the only lit rooms to dim, and shortly after, snatches of a couple's crisp Clove-accented conversation floated back to her. Go time. Rye rolled her long skirt up at the waist several times to bring the hem up to her knees, spat in both her palms, rubbed her hands together, and sized up the ivy-covered trellis against the back wall. Luckily for her, her boots were small enough that the toes fit into the little diamond holes the slats of wood created without issue, and she hoisted herself up easily enough that she wondered why the shit she hadn't ever thought of this before. This was easy. She made it up the trellis without it even wobbling slightly, pressed a hand flat against the glass of the window and neatly pushed it open, and even flawlessly climbed her way inside. It was just. The wrong room. Empty. Not even anything in the trash bin. Irritated, the healer started the tricky exit back out the window, grumbling to herself, when she heard voices growing louder from the hall. Lamp light illuminated the strip of space at the bottom of the door. The sound of a key in the lock. Rye scrambled her way out the window with exactly zero grace, and didn't have the time to figure out where the trellis was. Only time enough to hold onto the outside window ledge and hang there as the innkeeper opened the room up. She held on just as strongly as she held her breath. And maybe this whole hanging-from-a-window thing would've been easier if she had more upper body strength, which she sorely lacked and was suddenly made pretty fucking aware of it. Her arms burned as the innkeeper discussed with one of the cleaning staff something or other about Clovennian Standards. "And we must be sure no windows get left open, what if it had rained?" The innkeeper's voice was rather loud as he stood in front of the window and slammed it shut. Luckily, it only clipped her right ring finger. It took just about all of her willpower not to shout or curse or otherwise make a sound, but it did have the side effect of making her yank her hand away from the ledge on instinct, leaving her hanging only by her left hand. Feet kicking, trying to catch on one of the holes in the trellis. This was supposed to be a quick, easy smash and grab, Gods damn it. |