Among Wandering Hearts

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Among Wandering Hearts

Tips: 0.00 INK Postby stealthpanther on Thu Jun 29, 2017 7:21 am

ImageMirela ignored any stares she got, passing all potential spectators with barely a thought as her emerald eyes scanned the crowds for a certain idiot. Ordinarily, she would take such an opportunity to perform on the busiest street corner in hopes of earning some coin, and just thinking of the lost profit caused her anger to grow. Damn that Luca! Were he not her best friend, she'd have had half a mind to beat him senseless.

Letting out an annoyed huff, she stormed into the already busy tavern, already prepared to start scolding her fellow gypsy and drag him from his hangout. To her dismay and annoyance, he seemed to be nowhere in sight, nor was he making small talk with a pretty tavern maid. "The hell did he go..." she muttered under her breath, turning on her heel and once more taking to the streets.

The next several minutes passed in much the same way, Mirela going around to any spot her friend was likely to frequent. About ready to give up on her search and go back to the camp for the time being, she caught sight of two nobles and their guards.
More importantly, she saw an all too familiar brunette sneaking in steadily closer distances behind them.

Without a word, the redhead carefully stepped up behind the man, twisting one arm behind his back and silencing his shout with a hand clasped firmly over his mouth. Mirela hurried to drag him away from the unsuspecting group and out of sight behind the building, not releasing her captive until they were well away from the entrance.

"Mirela! The hell was that for?! I was so close-" Luca began, already beginning to sport a cheshire cat grin in spite of his protests.
"You idiot! People hate us enough already, and you're out here trying to pickpocket?! We've talked about this!" Mirela snapped back with a harsh tone, lowering her voice in hopes of not being loud enough to draw any attention towards her or her companion.
"I didn't actually steal anything..."
"Then what the hell is this?" Mirela countered accusingly, holding up a small pouch of coins and an ornate buckle. Luca shrugged, palms up in defeat as he let out a cheeky (albeit somewhat sheepish) smile.
"Fair enough, but I didn't take those today, so I'm not lying."
Mirela let out an exasperated sigh, shaking her head at her old friend as he reclaimed his stolen goods from her hand.
"But seriously, they looked like they could afford to lose a trinket or two and not be the worse for wear..." Luca began nonchalantly, only to snap his fingers as if he had just had some marvelous insight.
"I did see a very interesting pendant around the woman's neck. Looked like a lapis luzuli, oval shaped. Was embeded in some silver filgerie or something and hanging from a silk cord looked like..."

Mirela froze, picturing what her friend described and visually seeking the nobles and their entourage with barely supressed earnest. It sounded like that necklace.

When her parents had been killed years ago, the valuables they had were stripped from them, and among them was a necklace her father gave her mother when they became husband and wife. It was supposed to be hers when her parents saw her wed. And of course those bastards took it. She had almost lost hope of ever finding out what had happened to it, but if this was what Luca said it was...

The gypsy woman crept carefully through the crowds, keeping just far enough away to not be seen by the small group (who thankfully were easy to find as people parted in the streets for them to pass by). After several minutes, Mirela confirmed with her own eyes her friend's observation. She ceased following the group, having a good idea where they were heading.

Luca casually approached Mirela from behind, easily catching up to her. He grinned knowingly, looking rather pleased with himself. "So? When are we going?"
"Don't get the wrong idea! I wouldn't resort to petty thievery if I had any other choice." Mirela snapped, already plotting in her head.
"Yeah, yeah. Save the sermon. So when are we going?" he said dismissively, seemingly unconcerned.


It was a cool night, with only a sliver of a moon in the sky. Keeping to the shadows, the young woman waited patiently in a tree she had scaled earlier, not daring to move lest she attract attention to herself. The grand building was even more impressive up close, and she had to fight a nagging fear of getting lost inside without being able to find her treasure. It would be fine! She had all night, and Luca had promised to help, and more importantly- to behave himself.

After the last light had finally gone out, Mirela waited yet another half hour to ensure all the residents were asleep. Unable to wait any longer, she crept carefully from her branch to the edge of the roof, signaling her friend to wait before following. Slowly and cautiously, the gypsy lowered herself onto the roof, grateful for the buildings sturdiness as she crawled towards the nearest balcony.

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Re: Among Wandering Hearts

Tips: 0.00 INK Postby pieluver on Thu Jun 29, 2017 7:11 pm

ImageAngela had been visiting for the last few days, but this was the first she'd wanted to go out and look around the town. Of course, it was his responsibility to accompany his cousin around. Though no one had said anything yet, the lordling suspected there would be a proposal for betrothal in his future, as there had been a talk of a desire to consolidate his father's land with that of his half-brother's. Not that Vincent had any particular interest in Angela. He'd known her since they'd both been snot-nosed children. Honestly, at nineteen, he was still more interested in fencing than flirting. Nonetheless, duty was duty, so he accompanied her out so she could pursue the local offerings and fan herself excessively despite the mild heat.

She often paused to ask his opinion of some cloth or trinket, holding it up beside her face and smiling charmingly at him. Certainly she was pretty, but the resemblance between them was striking. They both took heavily after their grandfather, it seemed. Which couldn't be said for Vincent's two younger brothers, who hadn't been lucky enough to be born with fair hair and light eyes. They were both darker, like their grandmother and their father. Their grandfather, after his first wife, Angela's namesake, died, married again, outside royal blood, to a pretty golden girl who gave him another son. When he grew old, he split his title between his two sons, much to the offense of the rest of the family, who didn't like how...unregal, Vincent's father appeared. The same wasn't true for Angela's father and his only child, a pretty young girl two years older than Vincent.

The guards lingered around them like mayflies, keeping the pedestrians at bay. They received many stares, which made Vincent uneasy. He understood that it was part of the job, and that they weren't looking at him so much as looking at a 'nobleman' but still. He cast a look around him as Angela chattered with a woman about the pattern on the cloth in her hands, only somewhat attentive. His mind wandered, trying to find something more interesting to occupy it in this crowded place. He watched people talking animatedly with each other across the road, watched a woman tugging a child along, a man lugging a huge bag along with him. So many other people, so many other lives. What was it like to be someone else? What thoughts did they think? What was important to them?

"Don't you think this is a pretty colour?" Angela asked, holding up a pale pink cloth to her fair cheek.

Vincent's attention jerked back to her. "What? Oh, yes, lovely," he said, blinking as the reverie left him.

ImageLater, after supper, the night was cool, and even as sleep descended on the world around him, the lordling wandered the estate, enjoying the quiet and the moonlight. He often enjoyed the gardens at night, listening to the drowsy cooing of birds and the rustle of the earth drifting off. Even though he didn't mind playing the gracious host, engaging Angela in conversation and being polite, it was nice to have some time to himself. Some time when there was nobody to chatter at him, or ask questions, or ask for favors, or tell him what to do.

When he eventually decided to make his way back to his chambers, sleep beginning to drag at his eyes after the last turn about the gardens. From his view, he could see no lights left glowing in the windows, though that didn't mean, perhaps, the scullery was still busy with cleaning dishes or clothing. If they stayed long enough, they were allowed to have another meal before they headed back home, and he often ran into one maid or another when he went to raid the pantry late at night. Tonight, though he wasn't interested in eating. He pulled his cloak closer around him as he headed back to the side door. It was time to go to bed.

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Re: Among Wandering Hearts

Tips: 0.00 INK Postby stealthpanther on Tue Jul 18, 2017 12:25 am

Going painstakingly slow, Mirela hoisted herself over the balcony railing, and, after signaling to Luca that the coast seemed clear, began to work on getting inside. She gingerly tested the decorative wood door, unsurprised to find it locked. Fighting a sigh, she turned to her fellow gypsy and bid him forward, knowing he'd have something handy to lift the simple latch. With ease, Luca slid a thin metal pick through the gap between the door and its frame, pushing the latch from underneath until it was out of its slot and the hook dangling freely.

"Ladies first, no?" he said in a conspiratorial whisper, clearly having fun with their little scheme. The redhead, by contrast, rolled her eyes, finding the whole affair to be far more troublesome and risky than she'd like. Not to mention, she didn't like imagining what might happen should she be caught.
"Quiet! Let's just hurry up and find it, then get out. And remember, don't touch anything else!" she reminded her friend, this time prompting him to roll his eyes.
"Yeah, yeah. I heard ya. But I still think they wouldn't notice a trinket or two missing."

Mirela carefully pushed open the door leading into the room, relieved to find it currently an empty study. She stepped out of the room and into the dark and empty corridor, making her way silently down the hall. Luca likewise snuck about, going along the rooms on the opposing side.

Taking care to not make any unnecessary noise or movement, Mirela silently debated which room to check first, secretly hoping the occupants were heavy sleepers. Passing each room, she failed to enter after testing the handles of several unlocked (and therefore most likely unoccupied) doors until one met her attempts to turn it with resistance. An occupied bedroom.

Motioning Luca over, Mirela took the lockpick from him this time, placing it into the keyhole and working it int the lock until a soft click met her ears. Heart thudding in her chest, the gypsy woman didn't even notice she was holding her breath until after she opened the door and stepped inside, feeling extremely self-conscious of every little movement and sound she made.
Soft snoring came from the bed, the noble lady thankfully fast asleep for the moment. Green eyes scanned the room, trying to pinpoint where the pendant would be most likely to be kept. A vanity, armoire, bedside table, and dresser furnished the room, and several bags were tucked away as well. Luca strolled in behind his companion, heading for the dresser while Mirela tip toed closer to the bed. On the bedside table was a small box, and it looked big enough to be at the very least, a compact version of a fancy jewelry box.

Her efforts were rewarded upon opening the lid, smiling at the sight of a familiar necklace, able to confirm with certainty now that it was indeed her mother's pendant. Carefully plucking it from the box, the gypsy hastily put it on- unwilling to risk dropping the precious trinket.

Ready to call the plan a success, a frightfully loud crash pierced the silence, followed by a curse from none other than her usually light-fingered friend. "Shit! Who the hell puts a vase there?" she heard him mutter, only for movement behind her to make her spin around and face the rooms now- awake occupant.

With seconds of fumbling, a lamp was lit and a fair haired young woman was staring in horror at the frozen gypsies. Processing the fact that strangers were in her room, she screamed- jolting Mirela and Luca from their shock and sending them running.

Racing down the hall, the two tried to recall which room they snuck in from, only to hear the racing footsteps of guards approaching from the other end of the hall.

"Who's there?! Show yourself!" called one of them, the light of several lanterns coming into view.

"Shit shit shit shit!" Luca cursed, he and Mirela scrambling to find someplace to hide if not their original entry point. Luca ducked down another hall, not noticing his companion hadn't caught up to him.

Mirela had looked back, cursing as well as she heard the steps and the shouts getting closer. It wasn't until after Luca had vanished from sight that she looked forward again...

And promptly crashed into something solid. Solid and alive.

With a gasp, Mirela looked up to see she was in front of what appeared to be the master bedroom (judging by the sudden change to a two-door entryway and fancier carving) and now on her butt in front of a young blonde nobleman.

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Re: Among Wandering Hearts

Tips: 0.00 INK Postby pieluver on Thu Jul 20, 2017 12:33 pm

Vincent wasn't aware of the commotion elsewhere in the building as he strolled back to his rooms, holding his cloak close over his shoulders to stave off the chill in the quiet, unlit corridors he tread. He wasn't ready to sleep yet--sleep would bright tomorrow more quickly, and he was tired of this growing monotony, but he needed rest. Or at least, his heavy eyes, steadily growing heavier, told him so.

At first, he couldn't tell if he was imagining the pattering of feet echoing down the hall. He paused, looking around, trying to pinpoint the source of the sound. Was someone...running? Who would be running at this hour? Unless...a fire? No, there would be shouting to rouse everyone if a fire had broken out. He turned as the sound seemed to shift behind him, so he didn't see the figure whipping around the dim corner and running square into his back. He let out a soft whuff of surprise upon impact, stumbling forward and whirling around to see what had hit him.

He was met by the face of a young woman, staring up at him. Because he hadn't been privy to the rest of the events leading up to this collision, however, he had no reason to suspect she was a thief. Especially because in the dimness, he could hardly make out her features. His brow furrowed a little. He didn't recognize her, but then again, he didn't recognize most of the maids and help in this place. Maybe she was new. Now, the big question was why she was running around up on this floor?

"Hey now," he murmured extending a hand to help her up. "Are you alright, there?" He asked in a soft, gentle voice. No need to get angry. She probably hadn't expected to see him out here. Maybe she was running from something? "What are you doing, tearing through here?" he asked, intending to not let her leave so soon.

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Re: Among Wandering Hearts

Tips: 0.00 INK Postby stealthpanther on Thu Aug 03, 2017 1:52 am

Expecting more angry and outraged shouting and worse- shackles, Mirela was more than dumbfounded to have a hand offered to her, especially considering she had just barreled into the individual offering said hand. His calm inquiry into her well-being earned a blink of surprise, her green eyes searching his face for any hint that he was just screwing with her.
Idly, the young woman thought she heard that same female voice from the one she had awoken, a soft exclamation of 'thieves!' or 'bandits!' coming from the opposite direction, but she couldn't be sure she was entirely hearing correctly and not just being paranoid that word had gotten out already.

Her brain regained function upon being asked what she was doing, and in spite of her efforts, Mirela tensed up. Her hand stopped mid- reach, abruptly pulling it back as she inwardly chastised herself (why on earth was she about to accept the hand of the noble who's home she had broken into?!). "I..." she began, wondering vaguely if the noble was playing dumb about the commotion and scream in his house, or if he was really just that clueless. Surely he wasn't that stupid, was he?

She had little time to think on it, the march of feet growing closer before the lanterns illuminated her and the blonde aristocrat. "Stop th- My lord!" the lead guard ceased mid-shout, bowing his head as he spoke, all the while keeping a watchful eye on the gypsy girl as his fellow guards blocked her exit. "You've caught the thief. Thank you sire. Please forgive us for disturbing your rest. We'll take it from here." he reached forward to grab Mirela, the redhead lurching backwards and glaring at her soon to be captors. Sadly, it seemed the noble lady had already managed to tattle on her and her friend.

"I-I only took what was mine!" she spat, hoping Luca at least made it out. As infuriating as he could be sometimes, he was still her closest friend.

Her heart sank upon seeing two other guards dragging a bound (and cursing) Luca back towards their captain. "We caught one of them, sir!"

"Let him go! He didn't take anything!"

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