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 Posted: Thu May 24, 2012 12:55 pm
His coat was new -- or, at least, new for Jakob. Once it had belonged to someone else, and it had been the bright, fresh green of pine needles, trimmed in pale grey fur. Now, of course, it was more like pine needles that had sat in the snow most of a season, trimmed in brownish-grey fur, but at least it remained unpatched, warm, comfortably heavy on his shoulders, and a bit more respectable than the thin leather he'd been wearing before.
Of course, his fingers still poked through two of the fingers of his gloves; as he offered the letter, unopened, to his charge, Jakob stared at the chapped and cold skin of his ring finger, and inwardly winced. He could tell that the man -- an Artisan of at least some standing, his own coat rich blue -- was looking at those fingers too, and he wasn't in the mood to play for sympathy today.
Instead he took his payment with an edge to his posture and a set of his jaw, and when the man's back was turned, he neatly lifted the pouch from his hip, dark eyes flashing out into the crowd to make sure no one had seen the neat maneuver.
Or, if they had, that they understood the guy'd been a purer-than-thou cheapskate, and only deserved the punishment.
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Posted: Thu May 24, 2012 1:17 pm
A soft sigh, not quite of disappointment and a tut-tutting sound as he saw a familiar young man dart by, all wild dark eyes with that look that said he’d just administered his own form of ‘justice’ on the world, for better or worse. “”Jakob!” HE called and turned on a book heel in a snap of silver grey-cloak, trimmed with a soft nearly white grey fur.
The chase was on, it wasn’t at all that he really ‘disliked’ the boy; it was a matter of principal that stealing purses was not acceptable behavior. And yes, he could have called for a Red-Cape to chase, but why, it was almost a bright spot to give chase and see what prompted the theft this time.
“Jakob!” He called again watching to see if he bolted.
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Posted: Thu May 24, 2012 1:36 pm
The average person had little tolerance for a pickpocket. Jakob knew this well enough. The average Honest Citizen was only too happy to turn him over into the hands of the local Sword, or smack him down themselves. In a small world like this, people knew other people, and it was almost always personal.
Speaker help him, though, because Silver Cloaks took it even worse. Jakob froze for just a second at the sound of his name, his head halfway turned to blink back at the familiar face beneath the snapping length of distinctive cloth. And he remained frozen for almost long enough to leave him undone, staring at Locke in mute horror.
Why was the man always there?
His senses returned -- or, at least, his feet took over, launching him through the crowd, shedding three coins behind him so that curious bystanders would gather to pluck them off and block off Locke's access. He was turned around, for about ten seconds, not quite so familiar with the Artisan district as he was with the Peasant, but then caught sight of a familiar landmark and burst down an alley, away from the crowd.
"Frost and snow!" The curse bubbled out of him as he glanced back to see Locke turning the corner behind him.
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Posted: Thu May 24, 2012 5:40 pm
Oh he wasn’t going to be lost that easily, he might have to apologize later to the people he’d either bowled over or vaulted in hot pursuit of the young pick pocket. He decided, once the young man had been returned AGAIN to his proper family, that he was going to invite them to supper with he and his wife just to watch him glower and squirm.
“You’re just prolonging this!” He called, catching at a corner as he slid on a patch of icy ground and caught himself again. Nets sounded more and more appealing for standard issue, however impractical it might be. Then again he’d likely find himself netting some half mask on accident.
What was he always running from anyhow that he had to return him that way? It was a chance at a –good- home with properly warm clothing, instead he was stealing as though somehow that was better.
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Posted: Fri May 25, 2012 1:40 pm
"Don't you got somethin' better t' do, old man?" It was shouted back over his shoulder, just the faintest bit breathless. Jakob burst out of the alley and right into someone holding an armful full of fresh linens -- knocking them out of their grasp and onto the muddy, damp ground. He only took half a second, twisting around and past her, to offer a bow -- genuinely apologetic, if unwilling to linger for much longer than that to show it.
"Watch out fer th' Sword." He tossed it off as he kicked back into motion, and she blinked at him in horror and confusion, her day's work ruined. She likely wouldn't have herself together in time to spy Locke coming down the alley and get out of the way.
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Posted: Fri May 25, 2012 4:58 pm
“Who are you calling old?” He called back followed by “BRACKENFROST!!!” shouted as he sent the poor woman to join her linens. “Sorry madam! In the pursuit of justice!” He stuffed a few coins in her hand, if small ones to make up for the loss of her time and effort and he was off again in hot pursuit of the runaway boy.
‘You’re only making this worse for yourself!” He called “I swear I’m going to have them send you to the swords when you’re old enough! I’ll be sure to see you get SPECIAL TRAINING and I do NOT mean a grey cape!
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Posted: Fri May 25, 2012 7:11 pm
Jakob put more people behind them, twisting around and under and behind passersby to slow Locke up...but it wasn't enough. Every time he tipped his head back, he saw the glint of light on the embroidery in Locke's coat and cursed inwardly. This wasn't getting him anywhere. The Artisan district didn't have quite the cluttered chaos he needed to disappear, the rattiness of his coat showed too clearly in the crowd.
Well. Then. There was only one option: upward. The building was old, bricks broken away to leave handholds easy for a teenaged boy to catch. So he tucked them in and shot up onto the wooden roof, moving carefully over winter-damaged boards to peer down at Locke. He could get to the next building, probably. Instead he stood near the edge and took a moment to catch his breath..
"...why dontcha just go home to your lady, Tommy?"
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Posted: Fri May 25, 2012 7:40 pm
He gritted his teeth, staring upwards with mossy eyes and looked frustrated, clenching and unclenching his hands. “Uh huh, that’s a good idea boy, that’s a VERY good idea.” He said and then moved closer to the wall and tested a few handholds before starting to rapidly scale the wall.
“I’ll do that right after I catch you, you little slippery Skhel. Then maybe the missus and I will take you in for some NICE cookies and cake before we turn you back to your family. Oh, and that’ll be Locke to you if I might remind you.”
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Posted: Fri May 25, 2012 8:01 pm
"...s**t." He was quick, for an old man. Jakob fidgeted, surveying his options for a moment before starting across the roof. Within the building -- a bakery, the smell of fresh bread wafting up temptingly through the chimney -- people were probably wondering at the clatter above, maybe even watching in horror and concert at the way it sagged in places, the wood not as stable as it should be. Hopefully Locke would be more careful where he stepped...
The jump was difficult. Longer legs would aid, here. He just barely caught the edge of the building, his heart pounding in his throat as he wobbled and reached out to catch the trim, hauling himself up and onto the shoemaker next door. This time he kept going, instead of pausing to wait and watch.
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Posted: Sat May 26, 2012 2:15 pm
He gave the roof a hesitant once over, there had been some dangerous sounding creaks and pops when the boy had crossed, and he was a sight lighter. He’d have to be damned fast and light on his feet, but he wasn’t going to give up now. He ran, he nearly put a boot through the roof once, god only knew what it had to look like from an inside view, dust, straw and lord knows what else raining down on the people within. A few more clattering long legged steps and a panicked near ‘throwing’ himself at the over roof. He landed and rolled, cursing in the snow. He rolled to his feet again, spitting and scrabbling forward reaching out almost blindly to catch at coat, or cloak.
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Posted: Mon May 28, 2012 9:11 am
If Jakob had stood and gawked, or if he'd taken a moment to taunt, as he had that first time, Locke would have gotten a large double-handful of problem teenager, could have ended the chase right then and there. He'd been wiser, though, dancing his way across the rooftop and continuing onto the next with a clatter and a grunt that brought an angry shop keep out to see what the hell was going on. He took one look at the flash of silver cape and immediately went back inside.
Only onto the next building did Jakob, panting, turn to look back at Locke. He had time to grin and wiggle his eyebrows at the distance between them before the board went out beneath him and he tumbled into the tailor's shop beneath.
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Posted: Mon May 28, 2012 3:51 pm
He was getting far too old for this, he wasn’t even that decrepit, he was just getting to old for chasing this boy around the city, at the very least though it was doing marvelous things towards keeping him in very good condition.
His long legs would, over time, give him ground lost but the wait to regain it was frustrating. He was conflicted on if he should be satisfied or horrified to see the flicker of shocked expression as a board gave way under the young man and send him cascading downward into the shop of some poor tailor. He imagined he could hear the cloth ripping from here.
He needed a way down and a fast one, but he also needed to take a gamble on which way the boy would run, the alternative was to stay secreted on the roof top and see if he could gauge which way the boy was going. There were spaced between the roofs though that would be too great to leap though, if he didn’t descend he’d loose the boy to them rather than speed.
A glance over the edge of the roof gave him sight of a rickety looking wood shed that would at least take some of the edge out of a quick decent if it didn’t land him in a hard bed of coal and kindling. He took the risk, hit the snow covered sloped roof, stayed precariously perched for a moment and then found himself sliding ground ward. He salvaged something like a dignified landing by the skin of his teeth and paused for a heartbeat to listen for the clamor that would mark the boy’s break for it, or if nothing else the sound of an outraged tailor threatening to pin the boy up as a new man-kin.
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Posted: Wed May 30, 2012 10:32 am
Oh, yes; the cursing came out clear and crude, the kind of language one might expect in the peasant district, but much less here, much less in a high-classed tailor with fur-lined dresses in his window. Jakob did, instead, come streaking out of the building -- limping just a little and shedding a scarf as he did. But the shop keep followed him, blinking at the sound of the young man's voice and immediately spinning to look at first his roof, and then the surrounding.
The look he gave Locke was hardly reassuring, less grateful than it was furious. He shared the blame for this. The man's voice wasn't loud enough to make out the words, but judging from his frantic gesturing, he was encouraging the Silver Cape to go get the cursed kid and take it out of his hide.
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Posted: Thu Jun 07, 2012 5:55 pm
He took off after Jakob again, making a note of the merchant’s shop name, He’d pass it on to Jakob’s adoptive family and he was seriously considering recommending that they chain the young man’s ankles together to try and help discourage him from.
“STOP! DAMN YOUR HIDE!” He yelled. “Stop before you break something or someone else!” He was going to invest in a net, something to bring down runners that didn’t prove as aggravating as bolas. Last thing he wanted, after all was to accidently strangle someone.
At least the boy would be slower for his limping, long legs and spirits willing he might be able to catch up with the boy.
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Posted: Sat Jun 16, 2012 3:31 pm
Locke would think of it as 'adoptive', as opposed to slavery -- which was, of course, how Jakob viewed his situation. A slavery with no escape, with debts that would build over the decades until he was a wizened old man still limping his way around the same household, working to pay back what he never could. This would, of course, add to the tally. Legally, he was their responsibility. So legall, they had to pay for these damages.
That'd be a fun conversation for Locke to have.
"I didn't do nuffin, this time, lemme be!" Jakob looked cold, now, with his scarf gone and a tear along the hem of his new coat. He risked one brief glance back toward Locke and his face fell: the man was gaining on him. Inexorably drawing closer. It made his jaw tense, attention darting around for somewhere to go.
He was disoriented, but he could tell from the cliffs in the distance, at least, which way the peasant district was. His first opportunity he turned down another alley to head in that direction, swiping sweat damp hair back off of his forehead. He was going to be cold later.
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