Post by Fetch on Feb 5, 2008 4:02:11 GMT
"Hey there babe. You goin' my way?"
Feo murmured softly, a thin strip of pearly whites bared in a smirk.
Her harlequin mask glittering in the meager light offered from the moonlight filtering in from a sash-veiled window, the redoubtable thief slipped her hand up to the wrist in the jewelry box sitting so invitingly on the end table beside a vacant bed; her gloved fingers coming back up festooned with a king's ransom of jewels and precious metals. Such coinage like this was what made her a wealthy citizen by day...
...and a wanted criminal by night. One of the top ten, to be precise.
Her footsteps nonexistant, movements fluid with experience and practiced ease, "The Fetch" slid the handful of glittering goodies in one of the many pockets lining her pants. She had been staking out this particular house for nearly a month... and by the looks of it, it was paying off. This was her third trip here so far to pick the place clean of anything worth a fair chunk of gil.
Her glittering eyes studying the walls for telltale signs of a safe, she shrugged and pivoted to pad llightly to the door. She had gotten everything major... and from the clock hanging from the doorway over her head, Devereux had cleaned the place out in less than twenty minutes. Not bad if she did say so herself.
"Alas... parting is such sweet sorrow. But I wll be sure to make a second visit. For now, adieu and goodnight."
The Fetch slipped a small figurine free from the loop of her belt and set it atop the now-empty jewelry box (Her calling card if you will-- great for building propaganda), pressing two fingers to her lips in a farewell as if watched by an invisible audience.
To tell the truth... she couldn't wait to read the whole "Fetch strikes again" headlines in the papers. Think of it as a perk of this cat burglar job.
[/size]Feo murmured softly, a thin strip of pearly whites bared in a smirk.
Her harlequin mask glittering in the meager light offered from the moonlight filtering in from a sash-veiled window, the redoubtable thief slipped her hand up to the wrist in the jewelry box sitting so invitingly on the end table beside a vacant bed; her gloved fingers coming back up festooned with a king's ransom of jewels and precious metals. Such coinage like this was what made her a wealthy citizen by day...
...and a wanted criminal by night. One of the top ten, to be precise.
Her footsteps nonexistant, movements fluid with experience and practiced ease, "The Fetch" slid the handful of glittering goodies in one of the many pockets lining her pants. She had been staking out this particular house for nearly a month... and by the looks of it, it was paying off. This was her third trip here so far to pick the place clean of anything worth a fair chunk of gil.
Her glittering eyes studying the walls for telltale signs of a safe, she shrugged and pivoted to pad llightly to the door. She had gotten everything major... and from the clock hanging from the doorway over her head, Devereux had cleaned the place out in less than twenty minutes. Not bad if she did say so herself.
"Alas... parting is such sweet sorrow. But I wll be sure to make a second visit. For now, adieu and goodnight."
The Fetch slipped a small figurine free from the loop of her belt and set it atop the now-empty jewelry box (Her calling card if you will-- great for building propaganda), pressing two fingers to her lips in a farewell as if watched by an invisible audience.
To tell the truth... she couldn't wait to read the whole "Fetch strikes again" headlines in the papers. Think of it as a perk of this cat burglar job.
