Welcome to Gaia! ::

Lenila was not especially fond of night.

She knew, of course, on some level that it helped her. People could see less at night, so they were less likely to see her—at least, if she played her cards correctly, so to speak. Unfortunately, card playing, literal or metaphorical, was not much in her repertoire of skills, particularly when it required stealth when she couldn’t see in unfamiliar places where she didn’t know who or what else lurked in the dark shadows, and as a result, just generally speaking, she avoided as best she could, as often as she could.

Which wasn’t, regrettably, very often as of late. Something about thieves and their general mindset seemed to necessitate every plan beginning with some variation on, ‘After nightfall…’ and now that she was, somehow or other, actually part of it all, that meant that plans designed to direct her also involved this.

And so she was now, in an unfamiliar part of town, at night, in the dark. Alone. She rubbed a hand up and down her arm, silvery eyes blinking out at the night warily with the innate assumption that everything which moved was potentially larger and more dangerous than her, quite possibly hungry and ready to—

But no, that didn’t help at all.

Puffing, she tugged at her scarf, adjusting it before scooting further forward down the street, trying to simultaneously manage ‘casual,’ ‘stealthy,’ and ‘silent.’ It brought mixed results. She did, however, make it at long last to a building which — upon a squinted inspection — looked like what she was supposed to make her way into. A ‘beginner’s assignment,’ they had said. Something to ‘test her skill and loyalty.’ The window was higher up than she was tall. Why did they even need to steal into people’s houses while they were using them, anyway?

Rubbing her fingers together, Len peered up again to the window, and then around for something to possibly boost her way in. If she could make a stack of things and use it as a climbing stair…

One crate here. A push and drag, and there, one more box. The process wasn’t exactly quiet, but Len did her best to at least not cause a great clatter, and it didn’t take long to get something tall enough she could climb, which she did. Upon reaching the windowsill, on tiptoe on the top box of her ‘tower’, she propped one elbow on the lip for a brace and then reached to her waistbelt, unsheathing one of her knives and slipping it under as a makeshift prybar for the window.

Admittedly it wasn’t the most graceful of maneuvers, and were she more in the mood to, she supposed she could have done better. But it was cold, she was bored, her fingers were stiff and—the first raindrops pitter-pattered onto her butt in cold flicks, and a fluttering, disgruntled puff escaped her lips. She wanted in, and out, and off to food. So, this would do. Besides, it wasn’t as though there would be guards this far out in such a shoddy part of town. She would be fine. Was fine. Was doing well even, and only just contained a pleased yip of sound when the window creaked and gave, hitching up. Now, with just a little hoist—

Len yelped, barely muffling it down to that from a shriek as, in card-topple-succession, her bracing tower beneath her tipped and CRASHed loud to the ground below, her knife nearly dropped, and she only just managed to hook herself halfway into the window. It could have still been easy from there, she supposed—if the window hadn’t taken that moment to close and trap back down atop her, fortunately not a great distance, so it didn’t injure her.

But she was, less fortunately, well and truly stuck.

Squinting into the empty room beyond of this lonely and dark house that she did not even want to be in, Len gave two idle swings of her legs, and then puffed again, relaxing her posture to debate how best to slip out (or in), without damaging herself or alerting anyone that wasn’t already alerted to her presence.

Perhaps it would be a more interesting night than she bargained for.

Lenila froze.

She squinted, ceasing her wriggling for a moment as her mind clipped through various options before, at length, she puffed and resumed her squirming. This house would have to wait. One knee up to the windowsill, a push to edge the window back up—and with a scuttling push, twists, scurry, and drop, she managed to land herself back on the now wet (and muddy, for bonus points) city street.

“Oi, ey, I was tryin’ to get into my apartment, see,” she began, back still to whoever had ‘caught’ her as she dusted her hands over her clothes and made to turn. “Me mum locked me out an’ seems she forgot I don’ ‘ave the new key yet, sos I was jus—” As she did come to face the speaker, her words trailed off momentarily, round silver-gray eyes flicking over him with an odd wash of not-quite-placeable nostalgia and familiarity. The next second, her eyes narrowed the barest fraction — curious, but wary — and she took the most casual half-step-back she could manage, adjusting her weight to put her just out of grabbing distance.

“Ooiii…do I know you, then? ‘Cause you look right damn familiar to be spot on about it. Kinda wee part soggy, though. You cold?”

“She…” Lenila squinted, and then puffed, mind tripping and back peddling for a half moment before scuttling into a rapid analysis mode as she tried to determine who she was dealing w— “Oooiii, you’re tha’ boy with the food!” She couldn’t, for the life of her, remember his name. “Balasir. Eyyy, so I maybe said she was, but er…it’s just tha’ see’s a street lady, see? ‘Tends’ to a lot o’ menfolk an’ works one o’ th’ local houses, so I was right ashamed t’ admit it straight up. We live ‘round these parts, though, an’ sometimes she don’ get home ‘til real late like, sos I’m left tryin’ t’ get in while the sky’s spittin’ an’ there’s guardfolk about…”

She eyed him, gaze flicking down his front before moving back up again.

“So…” Her hands drifted to prop on her hips. “You became one o’ them sorts, did ya? Real fancy mean like?”

Len’s eyes narrowed, pinching to mildly suspicious slits. “‘Ain’t your name.’ If it ain’t, wha’ is then? And…” She shifted her weight, hands sliding to fold across her chest. “Didn’ say it was fancy or tha’ you were mean. Just th’ lot of ‘em think so, like they’s so great, ‘protectin’’ the city when real ways they’re just pushin’ on wee kids an’ messin’ with folk who ain’ doin’ naught wrong. You though…” Reaching, she prodded his chest. “You maybe ain’t seemed so bad last we met anyhow. Wha’re you doin’ out an’ about in the wet, eh? Don’ you have better things t’ be doin’ then…”

She glanced to her ‘ladder’, or: the fallen array of crates and boxes she had attempted to stack previously, now splattered with mud and becoming wetter by the moment as the rain picked up. Squinting, she propped her weight back in a half-stretch, stringing fingers through her dampening hair.

“Well, I do figure there’s worse in this city for you t’ be spendin’ your time on than worryin’ ‘bout lil’ me an’ watchin’ my bum try an’ crawl through a window…”

“Jalase,” Len repeated, stuffing her tongue into her cheek a moment after as though pondering it and then making a ‘pop’ sound with her cheek. “I got ya. Like a Jala bean…” Her lips parted for a brief, rougish grin before her expression pinched back into a scrunch at his later words, and she hooked her thumbs at her waist belt. “Ehhhhhhhh, I don’ so much know ‘bout that, see, as er…I kina lied ‘bout tha’, too - I don’ so much have a papa, an’ the other folk who live ‘round in there wouldn’ be so much pleased at me wakin’ em up just ‘cause my whore mama ain’t around an’ back yet. S’probably not worth it t’ bother ‘em anyhow. I’d rather not…easier to wait about. Figure…if I can’t manage through the window, I might just take a walk about instead…”

Running her tongue along the backs of her teeth, she glanced to his hand as it shuffled through his hair. The rain picked up, a deep boom of thunder making her body hop—which she covered with a scuff of her boots and shift in position.

“Anyhow don’t a busy boy like you with a real tough job have places t’ be besides right in this alley?”

“Eyyy…” Len puffed, shaking her head. “Now looki’ here, a’right? I didn’ know you so good. Wasn’ especially your business, but I wanted t’ talk to ya. I was embarrassed, an’ y’know some folk really don’ take so well t’ someone talkin’ ‘bout their mum havin’ tha’ sort o’ profession? I’ve had folk get angry like at me an’ ooohh, oi, am soooo sorry fer lyin’ t’ you, rain prince, but no, I ain’t got no more ‘confessions.’ I just wanted to come off normal like for talkin’ to a stranger. Ain’t no bad in that.”

Len blinked, and then — in spite of herself — a small frown edged into place, her fingers pushing up to rub at her arm, and she didn’t intend to, but apparently her body had other plans, so a moment later, as though bidden in by the other boy’s commentary, a shiver rippled up under her skin. She gave a puff of an exhale. And glanced away.

“Eh, sure, yea? Ain’t so bad, yet, anyhow. I’ll just, y’know—” Another shiver made her arms tighten, and she squinted down the alley. “Well, there’s a lot o’ night left. Ain’t so much of a worry yet. I’ll just take a spin around an’ then maybe…visit a spot or two…” In the time it took her to trail off, Len decided that the chance of Jalase helping her into the house were severely limited, and it was more than likely not worth making a push for it, so exiting was the best strategy, surely. “Or I might make one more pass at tryin’ t’ get in on my own. Y’know I leave tha’ window unlatched on purpose for this kinda time. Dunno if I can get the crates back in line again, though. S’easier when it ain’t rainin’ and th’ like…”