Snippet #1854441

The Rat’s grin twisted up his ragged face at mention of business. It was clear he had enough opening approval to earn a seat at the table. His attempts to bring a rise out of the pair and perhaps scare away the added fluff he noticed around the table proved largely fruitless. Drawing little more than a few batted glances, a weak shudder from their organizer Braith and a passing look of disgust from the younger of the duo. Perhaps these men weren't the squishy fools he sized them up for initially. Flipping a chair to face him, The Rat plopped down with a swish of his coattails, eager to hear the details of their high-profile quarry.

He remained largely silent, contenting himself with picking food from his festering maw and further assessing his would-be squad mates. Before Braith could launch into his briefing, another pair of interruptions, perhaps even more brazen than The Rat’s own took place. A clumsy extraction of a pocket watch from one of their employers pockets. Disbelieving looks were passed between the seated thieves, one jumping to offer his services to “deal with it.” In the commotion another joined their midst, silently seating himself several to The Rat’s left; giving the vile man a direct view of the fancy pair of cannons strapped to the mysterious strangers ribcage.

A handful of the others seemed to buy the bravado, commenting on the newcomers no-nonsense attitude. Braith even going so far as to indicate he was a name to be known and a face to be recognized. Being ignorant as he was The Rat was having none of it; writing it off as an elaborate act. The fancy guns, the wordless entrance, it was akin to a peacock attempting to woo a mate with a glittery flash of its tail. A belief made even more ridiculous by the mental gymnastics necessary to justify his earlier entrance.

Braith paused momentarily to invite the amateurish pickpocket who had busied himself at the bar. A questionable decision at best in The Rat’s opinion; the piece of his money pie shrinking in minds eye. Still couldn’t hurt to keep some fodder around as a decoy should things get out of hand…

One of the taller men at the table, looking several years The Rat’s junior, was the first to leap at the Hunt brothers prospect of raiding the Dukes dowry. Offering up his name, Valentyne Elfrith, in the process. He seemed overly enthused at the mere prospect of being seated at the table and it was clear he was perhaps lacking in the area of experience. Soft. The teen’s promises to not disappoint did little to quell the look of skepticism Baxter cast in his direction.

In short order the next piped up, the young boy and half the pair he had split earlier. A well crafted retort for Jack’s horse humor. The Rat had a certain appreciation for witty repartee, making a mental note to verbally prod Fox should he grow bored. The realization of his mistaken identity took several seconds to register as the boy introduced himself as Gwen; The Rat’s highly expressive face furrowing as he gave Fox another once over. Were he capable of embarrassment he may have felt a pinch that he hadn’t seen it to begin with. Still, contrary to the outlook of many of his peers, sex was of little concern to the famed lock picker, his earliest years with Rabbit had taught him that. There was no arguing that women were more than capable of towing the line in this business, and a dagger to the gut will still spill blood no matter who holds it.

His perverse hollow eyes wheeled across the crowd, sensing his opportunity to introduce himself. And he would’ve too, had the golden watch not been placed almost directly in front of him by the would-be thief. After casting a disgruntled look in their direction, as Braith warmly accepted the feminine lad into their midst and explained their location.

The thought hadn’t even crossed Baxter’s mind. It was all the same to him, he’d as just as soon planned the event from the pews of the Duke’s wedding. Jump out from beneath the bishops robes, maim the bride, cripple the in-laws and steal the cake. He simply operated in a world where the law didn’t apply, with the entirety of his adult life having been spent at odds with the powers that be it was second nature.

Braith having spoken his part and the pickpocket invited to sit, The Rat wasted no more time.

“Well den, Duke o’ta Starford yew say? Colour me interested in savin dem poor wittle horsies.” He gave the group another gnarled grin that could curl the blood, “Say ‘ello to da Rat, chums.” he jeered giving the table a hearty slap with a grubby palm “Gawtz a feelin we gon’ be makin beeyootiful music tagether, I dew.”