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scarlett arbuckle rolled 1 100-sided dice:
5
Total: 5 (1-100)
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scarlett arbuckle Vice Captain
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 Posted: Thu Sep 02, 2021 8:49 pm
Pickpocket!
Solo or RP Format
Counts as 5 RP growth Points
Solo word minimum is 750, RP post minimum is 7
It's been quiet, peaceful in the world of Tendaji. Many have grown used to the new normal between the Aishans, the Earthlings, and the Kahikinans. Because of this sense of security, a few unsavory folk are taking advantage of the distracted locals.
A pickpocket is on the prowl in the marketplace, and you find yourself involved.
This prompt will be resolved by rolling 1D100.
xxxxx1-20: Oh no! Something VERY VALUABLE was stolen!
xxxxx21-50: While not majorly valuable, you do have an important item taken from you.
xxxxx51-90: A small item is taken and you immediately identify the thief in the crowd.
xxxxx91-100: Not today - you catch the thief in the act.
[ Each participating character in this WE rolls 1d100 and roleplays their reaction. You are also welcome to have your character reacting to this event happening to someone else, if it makes more sense for your character's plot.
Or, even better, maybe your character is the thief - roleplay it out from the perspective of the thief. ]
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Posted: Sat Oct 16, 2021 1:08 pm
Gabhan had lived in Belrea all his life, and yet he would never stop being amazed at just how chaotic and busy the city could be. He and his father and brothers often came from Thelle to the nearby cities for work … a stonemason could never rest, not when there was so much to repair, to build, to do. While his brother, Teaghan, manned the counter at their workshop, Gabhan and his younger brother Fillan had been tasked with repairing a chimney at one of the local bakeries. It was easy work, and while Fillan fumed over the perceived insult of being sent on such a mundane task, Gabhan had happily taken to it.
“If it’s so easy,” He said, pulling his flute from his bag with a mischievous smirk, “Then you can do it yourself, can’t you little brother?”
With anyone else, perhaps, this might have been seen as laziness, but Fillan rolled his eyes and rolled up his sleeves as he set to mixing the mortar with the ghost of a smile on his face. While the brothers had never sat down to talk, Gabhan had a feeling that his younger brother recognized his lack of passion for the craft, and had never chided him for ‘goofing off’ in the past. As Gabhan began to play a workman’s song on his flute, swaying and moving along to the music, Fillan sang along albeit not well.
Their work was done in the street, next to the bakery, and as such they quickly gained the attention of the customers and other passersby, mainly in the form of sidelong looks or smiles as they walked past. A gaggle of children stopped to listen, giggling and dancing together, while their parents did their shopping with fond smiles. It was infectious, it was joyful, it was…
Gods, but this was just a little taste of what Gabhan wanted. The energy of a crowd, the delights of music, dance… the smiles around him, the happy faces…
In his head, he could almost hear the accompanying tap tap tap of drums, the slamming of feet to the beat, more voices joining in - but in reality, he knew it was just him and his brother, the song broken by the giggles of children and the slosh of water from a bucket as Fillan carefully mixed the mortar. Soon enough, Gabhan would have little choice but to join in to work, but for now they could dance and just enjoy the sunshine of the day…
It ended far too soon. “Gabby.” Fillan called, tapping at his leg to get his attention, grinning up at him. “Brush off the crown, would ya? And pass me the trowel.”
“Got it.” Gabhan sighed, the notes of his flute stopping abruptly. Just like that, it felt like the magic was gone, the energy disappearing into the activity on the street. The children lost interest and floated away, the shoppers returned to their chores, and that was that. Gabhan sighed, slipping the instrument back into his pack as he heaved himself up from where he’d been leaning, padding down the path to their cart to retrieve their tools.
The tarp that had been draped over it was still in place, so as he approached the musician found no reason to panic… but upon pulling it back and reaching for the tools, Gabhan froze, his stomach lurching. The palette was still full of the carefully crafted bricks for their repair job, their lunch sacks, and the cloth bag full of powder for making mortar. But the packs that, normally, were strapped to their hips and legs and full of their tools… the brushes for cleaning debris, the trowels for applying paste, the chisel and hammer for making adjustments - they were gone. He backpedaled, ducking down to check under the cart, scurrying about to see if they had just fallen off… but they weren’t there.
Rushing back to his brother, Gabhan’s eyes swept over him, hoping and praying that Fillan had taken them earlier, simply forgotten… but the confused, expectant look on his little brother’s face, and the almost stark empty space next to him made it clear. “The tools are gone.” Gabhan blurted out, watching as Fillan’s face fell. Together, they scoured the street again, searching desperately - but the tools were gone, and when they resignedly rushed home the last ditch hope that they’d simply both forgot their tools there was crushed.
Someone had stolen their expensive tools - while Gabhan, stupidly, played around on his flute, providing the perfect distraction for the thieves.
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scarlett arbuckle Vice Captain
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