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 Posted: Tue Oct 21, 2014 11:45 am
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Reaper was not the type of phony to enjoy wearing jewelry. However, the thief knew it could be valuable and thus he was frequently seen around phony land wearing it. Of course this wasn't for aesthetic purposes, but rather as a means of transport. You see, the stallion was quite fond of bullying other phony or even park guests out of their valuables, which was technically known as strong arm robbery assuming he didn't actually get violent. Many times he did resort to violence, because as one of the few carousels with armor he loved to fight. This earned him many talkings to by the leader of the small band of carousels, Valkyrie, whom he adored and also frequently ignored when she was telling him not to do something he enjoyed.
The black male was walking down one of phony land's main streets decked out with multiple gold chains with various pendants. Many of them were quite girly in appearance and judging by his leisurely pace he was confident that no one was going to say anything about them, stolen or otherwise. Reaper was known for three things. His large size, his rudeness, and how eager he was to get in a fight. Displayed proudly around his neck or tucked away into a small bag attached to his saddle, the stallion was quite sure no one would interfere with his plans for his stolen goods.
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Posted: Wed Oct 22, 2014 12:17 am
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Typically, Cinder is one to mind his own. Leave him alone, and he'll leave you alone, content to carry on in his own company. Sure, he'll tolerate interjection—sometimes, he even enjoys it—but little besides a need for assistance can compel him to voluntarily inflict his company on to others. Just because he prefers not to participate doesn't mean he's unaware of them, though.
If anything, he may perhaps be too aware, noticing even little things they sometimes wish he wouldn't. He sees the fleeting glances, fitful sighs, and shiny baubles stowed hastily out of view. Now and then, they'll even prove memorable. Particularly curious sundries, for instance. A dauntless foal, or a suspicious passerby… He even remembers knickknacks sometimes, like a colorful accessory or a singularly gaudy charm.
Mostly, the recollections prove pointless; just more bric-a-brac rattling around in the confines of his mind. Every once in a while, though, he'll find some use in them, like thinking he could swear he recognizes something glimpsed out of the corner of his eye. Abruptly distracted, Cinder turns from his trek and casts his attention on the stranger across the street and a little down the way.
Yes, he knows that necklace. Honestly, it would be a little difficult to forget, with a pendant so large he can identify it even from his vantage yards away, despite it being strung amid a mess of chains and pendulums. In a word, he would call it excessive, not unlike some of the others he finds alongside it. And last time he saw it, he's quite certain it was on someone else.
Suspicion sparks in him. Instead of simply glancing toward the pegasus, his sharp gaze narrows and settles more intently, as though he might discern why it's being worn by someone else just from looking. Needless to say, he can't, and he doesn't. Still, Cinder continues to watch, spending a moment weighing how likely it is the stranger is entitled to have it, and whether or not he wants to do anything about it.
cursedandwandering sorryyyyy. omg so tired /passout |
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Posted: Wed Oct 22, 2014 4:07 pm
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Cihiru Nothing to be sorry about. I'm certainly not going to be able to reply instantly myself or anything. Take as long as you need to make any replies. smile Let me know if you need me to tweak anything.
The carousel was unaware he was being watched or maybe he just didn't care. Both were highly likely as he tended to forget any phony's name moments after meeting them as he didn't consider them worth his time. They weren't a part of his little family and he certainly wasn't going to be seeing them regularly, so with that in mind phony were instantly forgotten. If someone ever held a grudge against him he'd never know, not that he really feared someone trying to get revenge. He would actually enjoy the challenge. Any excuse to fight was a good one, after all.
Like this it could easily be argued that Reaper didn't have a care in the world. He was fine with sleeping outside, when he wasn't able to sleep at one of the other carousel's homes. He was never wanting for food, as if he hadn't stolen any or been given any by the other carousels he was fine digging through a dumpster for a not particularly delicious snack. Because of his habit of stealing, he had little need or want for money. He certainly wasn't going to pay for things he wanted and money was something people always had on them to take. Part of the reason he even stole jewelry was that it sold well and it always made a good gift for the mare he admired. Of course he always claimed he was given it or purchased the piece to her face, which she of course knew was a lie.
Pendants clattering noisily as he continued to walk, the male scanned the crowds as they passed for something of value. It didn't take long to spot a glimmering broach fastened onto a mare's hat. The accessory was shaped like a beetle and was inlaid with crystals. It would probably fetch a nice price at a pawn shop if he decided to sell it. The thought made the adult smirk as he rapidly changed his course of direction to head towards the mare.
At his approach the smaller phony's eyes widen, mouth slightly opened as if she is about to inquire what he needs, but Reaper cuts her off before she can get much out with a gesture to the hat and a simple. "Give it." |
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Posted: Thu Oct 23, 2014 12:47 pm
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Just as he decides it's probably nothing, and really none of his business anyway, those wandering eyes snag Cinder's interest. That's not a look of idle aimlessness, he thinks. It's too focused. Too meticulous, seeming to miss no pony in the milling crowd. Maybe he's imagining it, but…
No, not his imagination. No sooner than he's thought it, the stranger is arrowing toward someone with undeniable purpose, and Cinder finds himself adjusting to intercept. Why, he couldn't say, but something about the darker pony's bearing makes him wary, as if wary of a predator on the prowl.
If he's wrong, and the other is only moving to greet a friend, he can always turn and simply walk away. No harm, no foul, right?
Still, he's on edge almost instantly, anticipation prickling him with an expectant sort of dread. What he expects, he doesn't know, but this rare stint of pessimism seems to think it will be nothing good. And 'waltzing over and making demands' certainly counts. He can hardly hear the exchange, but that gesture tells him all he thinks he needs to know.
How dare he? Indignation overtakes Cinder, who reacts by closing the gap between them and coming to a stop a short distance away. This close, it's apparent he's not a particularly large pony, but his poise is unyielding, and his eyes, dauntless. What he plans to do past this remains undecided, but he's not about to let the pegasus take advantage of anyone. ('If he can help it' doesn't factor into this; he's adamant he can.)
Not wanting to give the impression of affiliation and further alarm the hat-wearing stranger, he addresses her first. "He a friend of yours?" he asks almost offhandedly, looking first to her, then to the other. On the off chance she says yes, he will leave, and may even apologize. But if she doesn't, Cinder is prepared to… something about it, even if it means standing against the pony clad in armor.
cursedandwandering I was apologizing for my needlessly verbose and uninteresting reply. D: Thanks, though!
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Posted: Sun Oct 26, 2014 3:56 pm
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Posted: Mon Oct 27, 2014 12:57 pm
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Silence isn't the answer he'd been looking for, but it tells him all he needs to know. They aren't friends, and he likely wasn't misjudging. This pegasus really is just an opportunistic scavenger, shamelessly trying to take advantage of a hapless passerby.
Disgraceful.
In sharp contrast to the stranger, Cinder is nothing if not icily composed, unflinching even as the other all but snaps at him. "I'd say the same to you," he counters, frostily. That the dark pony is focusing on him and not on the mare is at least a step in the right direction; she's certainly no business of his.
He hopes she'll take the chance to distance herself, but does not do the same. Instead, he remains where he is, steadfast and unmoving. One may have assumed by now he's not the sort to strike first. He'd be right. As a rule, Cinder does not start fights. But he finishes them. (Or tries valiantly.)
So the pale pony waits, ready to move but merely anticipating.
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