Private Tales I robbed Tinkerbell?!

A private roleplay only for those invited by the first writer
Jace jumped from the fourth weather-worn step to the ground in one nimble movement before turning back to his new partner with a frown at her question.

"Well, yeah," he was posing as her agent after all so he would no doubt be in the room whilst she auditioned. He just hoped she was as good as she said she was or they would both be thrown out. Rudely. "Don't worry about it luv, it'll just be me and Mal listening, there's not gonna be anyone else around at this hour," it was mid-morning after all, when the respectable citizens worked and the more unsavoury characters took a chance to get a bit of shut eye.

"Hopefully, he lets you 'ave a shot tonight an' then we can put our plan into motion, aite?" he grinned, trying to look more confident than he felt.
 
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Only two people. That eased some of the tension around her shoulders. Even as they wound their way through the streets with folks emptying out their refuse buckets from the night. Vendors were setting up their stalls for the day on the opposite side. A few drunks from the night before were passed out on street corners, rats scurrying across their path.

She nodded to Jace. Unable to say much more. So much was riding on this. She felt like she was dancing with death and just one wrong step...

She knew her performance would be good. Maybe too good. She just had to be careful.

It wasn’t long before they came to a narrow two-story building with a large, painted sign out front. She had a feeling the building went pretty far back though narrow in the front. A man with dark mutton-chops stood like a sentry outside.
 
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"Zeeeeke!" Jace spread his arms out wide as though he were going to hug the sentry but at the last minute just settled for a friendly punch to the shoulder. The sentry didn't move a muscle at the kids warm welcome and Jace ploughed on as though he had expected nothing less. "We're here to see Mal - this is Cassie, my cousin from outta town here to find her fortune," he flourished a hand towards Freaya and offered a grin whilst his eyes pleaded with her to play along.

"She has a voice like an angel," Zeke remained expressionless but his eyes did flicker to the girl finally before back to Jace. He made them sweat for a few beats and then nodded and opened the door to let them in. The young lad grinned, waved goodbye and ushered Freaya in through to the large dance floor area. As he had predicted it was empty apart from one blue-skinned elf who was flicking through papers with a cigarette hanging out the corner of his mouth.

"Jace," he drawled in a southern accent without taking his eyes off the paper. "And... company," he glanced up and grinned at her showing eyes of obsidian black. "Have you come to sing for your supper?"
 
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She was grateful for the pen name. Better that her real name didn't get around, especially anywhere near the missing book. While she felt a moment of gratitude to Jace she still couldn't forget that it was his fault she was in this hot mess in the first place. Even after breakfast this morning.

And if he wanted to throw her to the wolves, this was certainly his chance.

She'd be outnumbered here. A wary flicker of her eyes around the room. That azure elf. Those eyes reminded her of the kelpies. She swallowed.

"I have," she offered the elf, moving smoothly to the small stage in front of the dance floor. A piano with ivory keys glistening from the sunlight from higher windows above caught her attention. Hands clasped delicately behind her back.

"Would prefer I just sing or sing and play?" The question was directed to the elf as she shifted her weight between one foot and the other.
 
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Mal's starless eyes glittered with interest at her offer.

"Whichever you feel comfortable with, doll," he drawled and leaned back in his plush chair, the ledger before him completely forgotten now. He rested the ankle of his right leg against his left thigh and his arms splayed out along the whole back of the chair. He was a man who looked very comfortable with his surroundings.

Jace took a seat nearby and propped his feet up on the table in front of him, attempting to ooze the same kind of casual charm that Mal did and falling short several yards. At least he didn't give off the whole going to eat your heart vibes that the club owner sometimes did.
 
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"Alright," she said, calmly surveying Mal as he leaned back. Turning, she went to the piano bench, lowering herself gracefully down, back straight. Fingers ran lightly over the surface of ivories without pressing any notes yet. As if she had to introduce herself. A silent ask of permission. Getting their feel.

Taking a breath, she focused on the keys, slowly exhaling as she began to play. It was a haunting melody that began to build with each note, teasing a listening to get closer and closer. And as she played she forgot about the room she was in and who she was listening. Because whenever she played, she gave herself fully to the music. It was an escape as much as a balm. A dance of itself.

Lips parted and she began to sing along with the notes, her voice as haunting and rich as the melody. The lyrics wove a dark story to match the melody and as her voice uttered the final note, she remained staring at the keys a moment longer, before blinking and resurfacing from the music.

Her eyes went to Jace first.
 
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Ah fuck.

It was his fault, he should have probably told her not to be that good but how was he supposed to know she could bloody well sing and play like a fucking avariel!? Mal had stopped leaning back in the relaxed manner he had held before and now leaned forward like a shark who had smelt blood.

They both politely clapped when she was done.

"Beautiful," Mal purred and stood, lazily making his way over to the piano. "Who taught you?" His head cooked to the side like a hawk watching a mouse. Jace left to his feet and quickly followed, sliding himself between the two.

"Oh my Aunt is very famous, very very famous up in Vel'Anir," Mal had the good sense to stiffen but he recovered quickly. "So... do you have an opening for us?"

Mal gave a tight smile then nodded.

"But not for the riff raff my dear," he directed his words to Freaya. "We'll put you in the VIP area."
 
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She paused, seeing the look of surprise on Jace’s face and then his alarm. Which he quickly hid. Has she messed up? No, not with the way Mal was leering. Leaning toward her.

Well then yes.

She’d meant to ring in some of her talent but...with music, she didn’t know that was possible. It was almost like...magic to her. Almost. She pulled her hands away from the keys and let her arms cross as she looked between the two.

“That sounds generous of you,” she spoke carefully and stood from the piano bench. A meek dip of her head in the elf’s direction. Let him think she wasn’t a threat. She was only an obedient girl trying to find a break. It was easy for her to fall into the role as long as she pictured Mal as a fae.

“Would my cousin be allowed access as well? Sometimes I get nervous when singing.”
 
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Mal's smile faltered again as he looked to Jace who was giving him his best innocent smile.

"As long as he gets a better jacket," the elf sniffed and the thief tried not to look too offended about what he was implying with that. This jacket had been stolen off a lord! ... Several years ago... and had had many tears since then leading to its patchwork affair.

"I'll make sure to crack out the best suit," he flourished a bow and the dark elf snorted before turning his obsidian eyes back towards Freaya.

"I will see you at 10, do not be late."

"Of course, of course," Jace took Freaya's hand and began to tug her back towards the exit. "See you then Mal-dear!" and he ducked them out before the elf lost his temper.
 
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She let some of her guard down as the sunlight hit their faces again. Even as it felt blinding after being in the dimly lit club. She blinked rapidly, letting her eyes adjust.

“We did it,” she dared a whisper and a breath as the club was left further behind them. She was too numb to realize he still held her hand. Her mind racing too much to pull it away. At least, not yet.

“He certainly doesn’t trust you,” she pointed out quietly. Blaming, she glanced down and slipped her hand free of his fingers. Even as she realized Jace hadn’t betrayed her. At least, not yet. She glanced down at herself and then him.

“We need to get different clothes for tonight. I hope getting them will be easier than getting back that book.”
 
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Jace rubbed the back of his neck with a cheeky grin.

"Mal trusts me to screw him five different ways, he's just trying to figure out how you fit into my plan this time," usually the kind of trouble he caused the club owner was in the gambling rooms with cards. It wasn't that he cheated per see he just had... some very good luck with his hands and the other patrons didn't see it that way. "He knows I've wanted to get to the poker tables upstairs for a while now, he probably thinks that's why I want to come with you," which would mean he wasn't expecting them to steal something from Kressa.

Just as well, really.

"As for clothes sweethear'..." he led them down another twist in the city to come out at the edge of the marketplace. "Go nuts."
 
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“A gambler too?” Raised brows in his direction. “I didn't realize they usually bar those with money to burn from playing.”

Eyes widened at the marketplace. So many people. So many humans. And orcs. And elves. So different from the fae. She swallowed, feeling nervous but tried not to show it.

“What’s the dress code for tonight?” She didn’t have much she could use here in the form of payment. It wasn’t like she earned an actual coin from Delun. Just room and board and a loose rule that she wouldnt be harmed by the others. At least, not much.

As they went further in, she saw some prostitutes with the curves of their chests nearly hanging all the way out of their dresses. Bright crimson on their lips and cheeks. Paint around the eyes that was so heavy to suggest they were covering something up. Of course Fraeya had never seen a prostitute before. Nor did she know hat one was.

“is it that?” She pointed as a brunette blew a kiss at them both and puckered her lips.
 
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Jace went a mortifying shade of crimson.

"No!" he grabbed a hole of her shoulders and steered her violently away from the women lingering outside the doors of Rosa's Pleasure Palace. The last thing either of them needed was for Freaya to turn up looking like that. Mal already looked at her like he wanted to eat her.

"No," he said again, clearing his throat and shaking his head. "Where you are performing is all about class. A nice... modest dress will be perfect," Gods he had no idea about women's fashion. The last dress he had got for someone had nearly resulted in him using a precious part of the family jewels.

"Something more like that," he pointed out a sleek red gown on a mannequin that came down to the floor with straps that gently hugged the shoulder.
 
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"What're you...hey, hey, stoppit." She had half a mind to turn and wrestle and pin him to the ground. She almost did until he suddenly stopped. And she was looking at that red dress.

She blinked.

"Oh, like the f-," her tongue tied in her mouth, "the one or two balls I've been to," she amended. "And don't do that," she turned around and gave him a light punch into his shoulder, her fingers balled up into a tight fist. "I can walk on my own, okay?" It wasn't a tackle but it was something.

Pale-green eyes flitted to the price tag on the dress. Her fair face paled. "Excuse me, would you be willing to trade for the dress instead of coin?"

The shop-keep, an orc female turned and crossed her muscled arms beneath her chest. "Depends, what ya got?"
 
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"You were sta-ow!" Jace scowled and rubbed at his deadened arm. What was with women and punching men who helped them? When had the Age where women swooned when a man saved them or offered a simple thank you, ended? Clearly he had missed the memo. Or maybe William was just right and all women were mental. It was certainly a theory he was willing to get behind.

Sulking as he was, Jace hadn't been able to tell her how he had planned on acquiring the dress for the evening and raised an eyebrow instead when she offered a trade. Considering how attached she was to a stinky old book he was curious to see what she would part with.
 
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She didn't have much on her. A hand went to the bone dagger and she withdrew it carefully, holding it out with both hands. "How about something like this?"

The orc leaned over her and one meaty finger poked the handle.

"Nah, ain't got a market even for weapons like tha." The orc began to turn away, toward another customer. Fraeya frowned and sheathed it. There was a moment of hesitation before she reached inside the collar of her shirt and pulled out a simple silver chain with a small, circular pendant on one end. It was the only thing that she'd had as a baby. Her first fae parents told her when they'd taken her, it had been within her swaddle. A family crest of her human parents. Family initials in the small gold piece.

She'd never found out the name.

She only knew it was Vel Anirian made.

Her thumb brushed across the letters as she looked down at it. The only thing she had left of her humanity. Of a life before she'd been taken by the fae.

But if she didn't get that book back, her life would be over anyway.

Reluctantly, she began lifting the necklace from her head. "What about this?" Her throat closed up and she tried not to think about it as she held it out.
 
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Before the orc could respond Jace's hand snapped out and closed about Freaya's wrist, yanking the chain away from the stallmistress. The orc bared her teeth at him but fell short of actually snarling because of the other customers gathered.

"She's not selling that."

Jace might have been a street rat, riff-raff even, but he wasn't heartless. He hadn't known his own parents but Petyr had been the closest thing to a cool uncle he could have ever hoped for and the one thing he had left of his meant the world to him. He looked at it the way Freaya had looked at that chain.

"What are you going to trade then?" the orc folded her arms over her broad chest and sneered. Of course in his patchy coat and torn breeches he didn't look as though he had the money to afford something half as fine as that. Jace did a great theatrical sigh and removed a solid gold pocket watch, swinging it idly.

What? The market was the best time to pilfer pockets.

"This in exchange for the dress, and that nice coat and breeches. Our trunks were stolen on the road you see. Terrible bandits you have around 'ere," the orc's expression changed and heat flooded her face. Stammering apologies and agreeing with the uselessness of the guard she pocketed the watch and set about packing up their order.

Jace even got some change.

"Lunch, dear cousin?" he grinned.
 
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She had to clamp down on her lips to keep them from tugging upwards as Jace spun a tale of highway robbery. And...surprise. Her wrist still tingled where his hand had encircled it. Stopped her even as she was about to protest about what the hell he was doing.

"Full of surprises," she muttered and allowed a shadow of a smile as she looked at Jace. "Cous." A nod of agreement as she shouldered one of the shopping bags. Her hand tucked the pendant back beneath her blouse. Fingers lingering at the weight and texture that was now hidden by her clothes before dropping back down to her sides.

"What about here?" She pointed at a stall selling fresh roasted chicken on spits with sides of roasted vegetables. There was an outside seating area just behind the stall with rickety tables and chairs set up. But the area was clean and bordered by one of the city's small parks with fresh rose bushes of reds and whites.
 
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"Sure you wouldn't prefer High Tea?" Jace sniggered but it was spoiled by the fact he was practically salivating at the smell. The stallholder eyed them up suspiciously; no doubt they'd seen him around before always hoping to snatch up an unguarded plate or scraps from the bin after a particularly bad day. He tossed the coins up in the air so he could see the glint of silver and copper and it seemed to settle the man back to his business.

"Two of everything please, fine sir," he slapped down the coppers and the man grunted, pointing to one of the tables with the agreement he would bring it over when it was ready. Jace swaggered over to the rickety table like it was a seat at the Ritz.

"So, Cassie, why don't you tell me a bi' more about yourself now you've seen a bi' o' my life?"
 
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Fraeya managed to thank the man as Jace swaggered ahead. She passed him to one of the close rose bushes to their table and lowered her nose to the petals, taking a deep smell. Reminded her of home. A time that may not have been simpler but certainly had been before losing the book.

She wandered back to table, pulling out the second rickety chair and sat, facing Jace. Elbows rested on the surface as she leaned forward. "Well," she breathed. "What do you want to know? And be careful about what you ask. There are some things that are too dangerous to know. Things you'll wish you didn't."
 
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Gulp.

"Has anyone told you you're kinda scary, Luv?" He pushed back on the chair until he was balancing his weight on just two legs which groaned with the effort. Not that the petty thief seemed at all bothered. "I don't wanna know about ya bosses, they sound... well you painted a pretty enough picture of 'em. I mean you, like... Oh I dunno... how you learnt to sing like that? Or why you were in Alliria anyway?" He raised a brow. She might have looked human but the way she moved, carried herself and acted... not to mention the singing... well, Alliria was a welcoming enough city he had run into all types to recognise when someone wasn't just plain human like him.

He pulled out a deck of cards from inside his jacket and began to shuffle them.
 
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A bell-like sound left her throat. Laughter. "You think...me...I'm scary?" Head shook and she dragged her hand over her smile and gave another low chuckle, shoulders shaking with a giggle. She thought of Isiell. Lorcan's twisting shadows. The Erlking. The bogut. The nagai. The water wraiths.

And he thought she was scary.

Throat cleared and she got control of herself, leaning back and crossing her arms beneath her chest. "Singing," she sighed, fingers coming up to twist the silver chain along her neck. "Taught myself, mostly. I imagine any talent I have though is from my birth mother, wherever-whoever she is." Her gaze unfocused for a moment as if she was trying to picture who that might be.

A slow blink as she refocused. Eyes flickered to the cards he was shuffling. She felt...a frown tugged at her lips as she quickly lifted her gaze back to the thief's face. "As for Alliria, we were just passing through. There are roads that run across the land. Hidden and only able to be used by some. Think of them like portal stones. One of those gateways is in this city. Have you always been here, I mean, grown up here?"
 
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"Hidden roads, eh?" Jace filed that little bit of information away like a treasured gem. Thieves were always looking for ways to get around when the heat got a little too much. If these paths limited who could use them too... well. That really was interesting. Maybe Wren would stop treating him as a kid if he came back with that.

Jace began idly playing a game of solitaire.

"Yeah, I think so anyway. My Ma died when I were little, father was a rotten nobody and ran off when he found out she was knocked up. When she died I went out on the streets," he shrugged and placed another card down, moved some sets around and then dealt another. "Lotsa interesting things and people in Alliria. Life's never dull that's for sure."
 
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She could understand needing to fend for yourself. Delun had taken her in, shortly after her original fae parents having been murdered. And a part of her had to wonder if the Hunt had done it. And if they had, why had she been spared? Or not just left to die.

Bit even with Delun, she’d had to find food on her own. He always forgot about the needs of humans. Had to survive or evade the crueler fae that came around or caught her whenever she was off the estate.

And while Jace hadn’t faced the same struggles on the streets, she knew enough to bet he’d faced something similar to survive.

There was something about those cards though. The portly shopkeep whistled as he approached, setting two plates heaping with food down in front of them with some fresh bread and butter. Fraeya thanked him as he sauntered away.

“Well, you’re a decent thief to have done what you did. Especially not getting caught by Delun.” Or herself. It was a begrudging compliment. “If you could choose to be anything or do anything, would you stay here?” Sometimes she let herself fantasize about what her life might’ve been like if she wasn’t taken. And she was always curious to hear what others thought about. If there weren’t limits and only possibilities.
 
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Jace slid the cards all back into one deck at the sight of food. He was practically drooling at the sight of the rising steam, thick cuts of roast lamb, and fluffy roast potatoes he knew were going to be that perfect level of crunchy. He couldn't remember the last time he had had a proper meal. Oh they stole enough to buy a few bits here and there or stole on the job and ate then, but that was food you could eat whilst running or whilst sheltering under the rain gutters.

He tied the napkin around his neck and sat there with knife and fork in hand practically wriggling in his chair. The chef barely had time to remove his hand before Jace pounced on the food like a hungry wolf and began devouring everything in sight.

"Oh-mm," he paused long enough to pick up some bread and dunk it in the gravy, shovelling that into his vaccumous mouth soon after. "I dunno really. S'not great to dream 'cause then you're disappointed to wake up," Petyr had told him that after catching him watching families spending pleasant days together in the park or out shopping. "I've always wan'ed to go sailin'," he liked watching the ships come in and they all seemed to have cool tattoos. "Maybe I'd own me own ship. Wha' abou' you?"
 
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