RP:Steal it, if you have to

Part of the Seven Dwarves All Around Me Arc

This is a Rogue's Guild RP.

Previous scene: Flank Hoags With a Side of Scheming, Please

Summary: After breaking bread at the Barrel, Leo and "Rona" make a few last stops and finishing touches on their ever-thickening plot.

Intersection (Outside the Broken Barrel Inn)

You have come across a great busy intersection, many people are scurrying around in all directions their shoes producing a slightly unpleasant noise on the gray cobblestone streets. Ahead of you is obviously a tavern of some variety as you see many happy sailors staggering out obviously drunk and roughly the same number running from the harbor to get inside for a relaxing drink no doubt a good sing song. Far to the east you can see the great Rynvale shipyard and a large ship frame under construction there. To the west appears to be the shopping district.

Eleanor loitered just outside the door of the Inn, chin angled down, and palmed the tin in one hand, flicking it open and reaching across herself to offer Leo one of his own when he joined her. She was looking toward him, although not directly, and tore away only to glance around the intersection. Harbor Street stretched eastward, but they needed to get onto Regal Street, and El internally moved even farther, considering their exit strategy as well. They had to make it out of the bank with the goods, and escape without a trail leading to them, but misdirected toward a certain syndicate. Then, there was the matter of getting to the casino, a feat which won't be accomplished easily. All these together made the woman's lips pucker thoughtfully. Shaking out of the train of thought before it derailed in self-doubt, El found a way to light the cigarette, a couple of short drags being taken as she searched for her voice. "There should be a courtyard not far from th' bank." Already she was moving away from the Barrel, her back to the afternoon sun. "There's somethin' I need t'do there, before we make our deposit, if this is t'go smoothly."

Leoxander followed her gaze into the distance before he took a few steps to fall into a shaded nook of the alley between buildings, that rolled herb between his lips as he crouched over his bag. “You realize the minute I step foot into the bank they’re gonna be on their guard, El’...” He searched through the satchel until he found the leather vambrace with mechanics concealed on the inside, and set the trigger into place before fastening it over the faded eldritch thorn tattoo on his wrist. He took another drag and spoke before he’d replace the end to his mouth. “I can prolly get in there without them knowin’, ‘cause even if I pose as you’re security or some sh-...” He stopped and glanced up at her. “Less you got anymore of that fancy make up.” He winced up at her with his own suggestion; he’d never been much of a fan of magic, especially with their track record between wolf curses and pixie dust. A hooded black jacket was the next to be shaken of some dust and he pulled it on to conceal the collection of ink covering the majority of both arms. Adjusting the collar and concealing a few smaller throwing weapons in the side of his boot, he pulled the cuff of his pants down over the grips and took one last draw of the cigarette before it was tossed into some grimy puddle in the broken stone side-road.

Eleanor's eyes slid sidelong toward Leo, brows rising as she tempered a smirk. "They can be on their guard all they want, mo ghaol," she assured him, switching between the punctuated Common and rag-mouthed D'Vainese. "They are not going to live to tell anyone it was Leo Achilles who stole diamonds from the decrepit Rynvale Bank." Name dropping as much as her tone, albeit her words were laced with veiled humor. "An' if they did, who would believe they'd been robbed by a ghost?" El struck her tongue against the roof of her mouth, turning into the alley alongside Leo. Lifting a hand to rake through her raven tresses, her fingertips surreptitious brushed against the pendant hiding under her scarf, and shadows stretched closer to the pair of rogues as at least one of them suited up, so to speak. "However," she proceeded in a coy, hushed tone, "if you would prefer another face, I can arrange that." At least, she hoped she could, long enough that he'd need it. They were far enough from the cursed Holy Trees that her magic was likely more predictable than it had been in months, but that didn't necessarily mean she had as much as she wanted. Notwithstanding any reservations, the look she presented Leo was one of confidence, her chin dropping in a few nods. Of course, that just encouraged her gaze to fall toward the pirate's chest, and the ever-present brand serving as a reminder of the complexities of the situation. El's lips pursed briefly before she occupied herself with another drag from her cigarette. On a smoky exhale, she ventured to catch Leo's gaze. "Jus' tell me … who do you want to be today?"

Leoxander was more encouraged by her tone and expression than the consent of magic, no matter how much distance was between that island and Xalious. Plus, he couldn’t help the sense of thrill, that rush of energy that slid up his spine when she dropped a name he typically didn’t like falling from other’s lips. Her lips were the exception. It had been a long time… a very long time since he’d done something to risk his sketch on a wanted poster, and of course there was the sense that he was rusty. Standing from his preparation with one last item grabbed from his satchel, there was a light of mischief in his eyes as he pulled the black fabric over his head, catching some of his overgrown hair in it against the web of ink on the side of his neck. “...Leo Achilles.” He answered her, not able to recall the last time he’d spoken nearly his full name out loud. A grin started on his features that revealed she’d convinced him, not yet concealing it with the fabric that would eventually cover the lower half of his face. Flexing hands that were now covered with some fingerless leather gloves for grip, he stepped over to the other side of the wall and found an inconspicuous board, where he dug his fingers into the edge and slid it out of place to reveal a convenient compartment that was merely a fluke of the structure. But the pirate knew every inch of that island, charted and not. Once his pack was stored in that unintentional cubby, he returned the worn wood into place and reached his hand out to catch the bottom edge of her corset once he was in range, attempting to tug her a step or two forward on those tall, laced boots, and a bit rough about it. “Though let’s hope that blaggard Red don’t catch wind. I think I’m startin’ to dig on this look, ‘Rona’.” That footwear might assist, so hopefully he wouldn’t have to stoop much to tilt his head forward and bump his brow and nose against hers.

Eleanor finished off her own smoke and crushed the butt underneath a booted toe. "Guid answer." There was no attempt to disguise her delight at Leo's reply, although she turned her attention down to pull on her gloves, making sure the engagement ring was hiding underneath, the stone turned in toward her palm to keep it from pushing out against the soft black leather. Her eyes rose to settle on the other rogue as he stowed away what he could and took a turn toward her. Naturally, the dark-haired woman offered no resistance but quickly met the pirate to snake her left arm up around his collar, a husky chuckle preceding her words. "Och, is that right? Aye, we best no' tell him, then." Her words were breathed into the space between them, herb and rum entwined with remnants of smoke that she leaned into. Rona lifted her chin the last few degrees to greet Leo more than halfway, her left hand curling around his neck to weave through unkempt blond, and the shadows of her cloak encroached further as if instinctively driven to shield the pair from passersby.

Leoxander caught the spellrogue in disguise around the back of her laced up waist and tilted his nose aside her own to meet that halfway mark eagerly, sharing a similar taste in a lock less gentle than the previous night, but less aggressive than the night of his human form reunion. It lasted as long as it could, since they were wasting time and daylight. “Time to get some reputation back for Death’s waiting gate, mm?” One last press and seal against her mouth, and he reluctantly let her escape his hold. He’d follow her lead toward the town square, and don that mask over half his features just after their arrival, noticing a hint more traffic toward the ‘capital’ of the degraded city, which could hardly be classified as such. The trek had him studying those familiar roads, and as he followed her to her last stop, he said off handedly. “I thought I’d run this place, once. All of it, not just the edge to the forest. Guess a criminal can’t be a competitor for a crown unless it’s stolen, eh?” He took the time to double check and tighten his harness, his vambrace, with a glance in the direction of the bank, even if it wasn’t in sight.

Eleanor — or rather, Rona — did her best not give into the moan threatening the kiss, although she drew new breath with urgency once they'd parted, as though she'd scarcely breathed during. She felt heat spreading up her neck and lifted her hands to comb through the dark curls, letting them tumble in sheltering curtains around her face. Briefly, she raised the pad of her middle finger to her face to test the glamor and was subtly relieved when she met a smooth, if warm brow, the enchanted paste's effects enduring. Pressing her lips together, she stepped in pace with the pirate, the umbral shade of her cloak staying in the alley behind them, as it were. As they moved through the streets with relative ease, the spellrogue spared no corner from her scrutiny through darker-than-normal lashes, keeping the majority of her attention split between Leo and their destination. With the royal townhouse looming on their left, her gaze slanted toward the former, and her lips harbored a barely-there but nevertheless impish smirk. "Why not steal it, then?" Her sea-glass gaze swung back toward the esteemed estate to regard it in the wake of her suggestion, and she shrugged her sculpted shoulders, partly out of dismissal and partly 'what if?' However, the rogue didn't slow her steps to engage with the thought any further, continuing eastward until an obsidian statue came into view. She hesitated a heartbeat at the courtyard's entrance, looking around the street end toward the clinic farther east, the bank south, and then nodding toward the north. With no theatrical presentation of might being held within the amphitheater beyond, it was relatively quiet in the courtyard, the pair of birds joined only by the statue, which compelled Rona forward. Lifting her gaze upward to take in the grotesquely brutal scene, her words remained low, tempting mischief. "Who is to say you cannot have this place again? You decide what you want, you take it — steal it, if you have to." Swinging those pale green eyes toward the pirate once again, she added soberly, "I didnae ken about you, but I am really tired of being told what I can, and cannae have. I will decide that myself, as should you."

Marble Statue and Courtyard

Walking into this rather large courtyard, you notice the pristine marble tiles, all of obsidian hues that you walk upon as the cheers and laughter of a massive amount of people comes from the north. Looking that way, you see a looming, twenty foot, white marble statue depicting actors in performance of a battle scene . The victor, you would assume from the pose, stands with a spear high in the air, pointed down towards a fallen foe, hands up, as if begging for his life. The end, it seems, is captured in time for all to see as this battle would have surely ended within seconds. Peering off a ways past the statue, you see a grand amphitheater of extreme beauty shown upon its external façade. All around you, people are filtering towards it, a spectacle either in progress or soon to begin.

Leoxander offered her a look that wasn’t a glare, perhaps more pensive and a bit uncertain. That was how he’d done nearly everything up to that point in his life. His ship, his reputation, his lost wealth and status, all stolen. Most of it gone, now. The only thing he hadn’t tried to steal, though that might become the case, now, was her. He took in her words less eagerly than he’d taken that first drink of water in the desert, but it nearly resonated the same. He hadn’t entirely lost who he was, and that was mostly due to her reminding him of his name, out loud. “Let’s see how this goes.” He spoke those words as low and as quiet as ever, while he waited for her to make whatever preparations and stop necessary. “You got a plan for this? Or we just… wing it?” A significant statement given the rogue’s mascot, and perhaps she would see the telltale glint in his eyes that he was falling for more than the spellrogue, all over again. The echo of ‘ours’ hadn’t left his mind, and might be motivation for the job ahead. He wasn’t prepared to fail. A glance up toward the statue was responded with a shake of his head. Leo didn’t want his triumphs marbleized in glory, he just wanted his old, once again new home back. Glorified images like this needed to be destroyed and a revolution due. The city was empty, of smugglers, acquaintances, challengers, enemies, and his pack. No war stood in his way. Maybe it was time for Leo Achilles to take his crown, and some profit and perhaps a few lives in the wake.

Eleanor studied Leo in the long shadows of the ebbing afternoon. Although nightfall was still an hour or more away, its inevitable return was already coaxing a few chillier-than-usual breezes up Regal Street, eddies swirling through the courtyard and kicking up leaves and dirt around the spellrogue's boots. At Leo's question, her eyes sparkled. "Am I allowed to say … both?" Tempering a guilty-as-sin grin, she glanced across the street toward the bank and back to her partner, in more ways than one. Pulling a simple stick of azure-blue chalk from her belt, she knelt behind the statue and began sketching out a sequence of circles on the obsidian marble tiles. Intersecting the spheres, she drew straight lines that were further bisected by roughly-drawn runes. "I'll go in first, ask to speak with their manager." A multitude of sigils crisscrossed the markings on the ground, each painted in quick succession. "For the storage and security of my most prized possession." She paused only long enough to share a conspiratorial look with Leo before returning her eyes to the runic seal and administering the final touches to the intricate design. "When the manager returns to speak with me, you'll join us on a … tour of their vault." The seal lit up blue to match the chalk before fading into nothingness, much like her tattoos had hours before. Tucking the stump that remained of the chalk back into her belt, she stood and dusted her gloves off with a pair of soft claps, smoothing her palms over her hips to rid them of the rest of the residue. Giving the corset a not-so-subtle adjustment, she shifted her furtive gaze to Leo and added, "If the nine hells try to break loose and we cannae walk out of there without issue, we'll return here, and this should hide us long enough to make a portal back to your place." Without a proper door in the courtyard, the spellrogue would have to get creative, but they can burn that bridge if and when they get to it. Her voice dropped into a secretive hush; it may as well be an effort to disguise the eager tremble in her voice. "Onie last questions?"

Leoxander returned a faint smirk, whether she caught it or not behind the black fabric that stretched across his face. Her most prized possession… Back to the task at hand, he took in her instruction aware that he may have to improvise the situation, particularly if anyone in that secure building happened to recognize the ‘notorious resident’. “You said… none alive. You mean that?” It had been while since blood beyond prey for a meal was left on hands or paws, but he was ready to take that step back into that role. Leo Achilles was no hero, and her encouragement reminded him that anything grand in his life had been taken. It was strange, as though time itself had shifted and wound back to the place where he’d lost his path, a second chance. “No questions, just one thing. You make sure you get out.” Selflessness was another renewed feeling, but the leader of the nest needed to continue her rule. He was certain of that. “You see trouble, you know I’ll get out of it. I ain’t ready to leave anytime soon. I’m stayin’.” He straightened his back, cracked his neck, and moved back to her side when she was finished with her ritual. “Let’s cause some hell, eh, Rona? Hope that ring does the trick.” He was kinda sick of seeing it on her finger, despite that it had no true meaning. A nudge of shoulder to hers encouraged her to lead her army of one.

Bank of Rynvale

A pair of armed guards stand just inside the doors to the newly-erected banking hub in Rynvale, which serves as the final piece to the puzzle of complete self-reliance for the island city. It appears with the shady characters known to frequent the Broken Barrel and the current state of world affairs, the bank overseers are taking no chances against possible mayhem descending. While the two guards stand sentinel in the forefront of this elaborate stone building, a gaggle of wizards stand near the vault, keeping the bankroll safe from those who would seek to plunder it.

Eleanor's grin darkened, her eyes sharpened on Leo. "Aye," she confirmed. "No' a one." Her chin dropped, and she regarded the pirate for the span of a heartbeat. "Issat goin' to be a problem?" There was her usual undercurrent of teasing behind the challenge, but beyond lurked something else entirely. She didn't wait around for an answer to her rhetorical question and addressed his concerns instead. "I don't see trouble, mo ghaol," she purred, her words sneaking right up to the edges of overconfidence. "I am trouble." His return stoked something in her, and she had to give him credit: he looked damn good back at her side. Angling her chin down in a deliberate nod, she regretted having to withdraw but turned to enact their plan with composed, purposeful steps carrying her into the evening. Approaching the street, she glanced toward the bay and then sunset, brow furrowing against the waning light. Tossing one last grin toward Leo, she crossed with steeled nerves, knowing he wouldn't be far behind. Inside the bank, Rona was immediately flanked by the armed guards, each sizing her up with eyes that wandered a bit too much while she passed between them. Her gaze clandestinely moved toward the wizards that stood near the vault before shifting toward one of the tellers. They'd arrived at the perfect time; there didn't appear to be any bank customers in the main lobby as far as the rogue could tell. Her lips spread into a toothy grin, and she approached the nearest teller, leisurely pulling her gloves off one finger at a time. The teller, a plain-looking half-elf with platinum hair twisted into a bun high on her head and shallow grey eyes, greeted her with, "Welcome to the Bank of Rynvale. How can I help you today?" Rona's green eyes honed in on the woman, flitting toward the name badge pinned to her blue-and-yellow smock. Moistening her lips, the spellrogue leaned against the counter, setting her gloves on its surface and twisting the ring so that its black stone glittered under the bank's cold interior lighting. Beyond that, she didn't draw any attention to the jewelry yet. "I need to open an executive account, Meghyn. I was told the manager would be able to help with that." The teller's expression belied her relief that she'd get to pawn the task of helping the dark-haired woman on someone else. "Yes, of course, let me go find him for you." She followed with cold green eyes as the teller retreated into another part of the bank searching for her employer, at which point she looked along her shoulder with a subtle invitation.

Continued in "Go on... Fly free.".