the night was late and the air heavy with silence. the kind of quiet that reminded you of how awake the world was, even as it slumbered. the night was magic and the air heavy with chances. you took a deep breath and knew there was a promise: it's okay, it's okay, it's okay. independent rp crossfandom & fandomless low activity remade 2018 as loved by nez
"Damn, what was that?“ Nick didn’t reply to his question so much as asking back, his tone awed. He shrugged Alex’s hand off his shoulder, but it was more of haste than hostility. Taking careful steps, he walked between the fallen guards, first making sure that they were only unconscious instead of, er, worse. Finding what he was looking for, the boy crouched and picked up the remaining part of the device, a half of an empty globe, only as big as his toe. “How did it work?”
─────── .⋅ﾟ+..｡*ﾟ+ .⊰
Alex took a moment to check every guard’s pulse,Alex noted,not without appreciation. It didn’t pay to be bloodthirsty in this line of work; it was best not to leave dead bodies behind, and it would seem the boy was well aware of that. Nick stooped, picking up what was left of the pellet Alex had deployed. “Compressed air, basically; the same sort of effect that makes your ears pop in high altitude, only stronger. No lastin’ damage, but it takes you out just like that,” he snapped his fingers. “They won’ know what happened when they wake up either. No trace for us,” he grinned as the half-globe in nick’s hands started smoking. “I’d drop that.”
The tiny broken device actually felt slightly warmer in his fingers, and Nick did more then just drop it, he flung it across the room. Not to soon either, as the half globe made a hissing sound and mutedly imploded mid air. Impressive, he thought, wondering if he could maybe coax Alex into sharing his supplier's contact.
"Right, any more devices I should be aware of?" he asked, better safe than sorry, as they were going to separate areas of the mansion.
Sparring partner was right, Sam chuckled to himself. With every addition of the story, he was getting a clearer and clearer picture of who Samuel Hallahan was as a person. And now he understood why romance writers and magazines swear by the notion ‘opposites attract’ because Uncle Samuel and Aunt Arabella seemed nothing alike; but they complimented each other so well. Someone who could hold his own and keep up the banter. A partner like a tall, glass of cool water to calm a fiery sparkler of a firework.
Sam fidgeted with the edge of his sleeve. He had a temper, or at least he used to. Born out of habit, and survival more than anything. His mind wandered. Maybe.. Maybe if he’d known Uncle Samuel.. would he have turned out more like him? Calm but quick on his feet? Instead of bottling it all up and letting it burst out at the worst of times.
"Aw no! Ah’m sorry,” Sam said out loud, and offered condolences for the late kitty-cat. “An’ yes, coffee’s fine.”
But Sam could hardly wait for the story to continue, waiting for the waiter to leave before asking, “So then.. what happened? Cellphones weren’t really a thing yet, right? ..How’d it all work out in the end??”
"It was not totally unexpected, I mean she was old, I knew it was coming. Still at that time, I felt like I lost my only companion while I was alone in the city," she explained at Sam's condolences, followed with a quick smile. "However, here is where people can truly say 'Everything happens for a reason', because you know what, you are exactly right, cellphones were not a thing yet and at that time I chose to save money instead of installing a landline. So.. after waiting for two hours or so, Samuel decided to stop by at my place to check on me."
"We practically spent the whole night, just sitting at my porch, me sobbing and telling him stories about my cat, and he was just listening intently like it was the most important thing in the world for him too." She laughed again, "Oh my god, how terrible must that be for Samuel? I bet he almost fell asleep multiple times, not to mention it was holiday season and we were both exhausted from work.. Nevertheless, he kept me company without complaint, and he lent me this handkerchief."
Arabella did not tell Sam this, but said handkerchief was still in her possession, one of her most treasured things.
"Sooo, after this incident, we actually got genuinely closer, and I'm sure you could guess, the rest was history."
[ don't mind me again as i compiled previous interaction with Nick's teammate, just so i remember ]
The ride passed without any distinguishing event, and less than 45 minutes later Nick stood before the empty house, one of the many in the neighborhood where the occupants were away for the holidays. Went for a cruise to warmer islands across the globe probably. The farther the better, the boy thought. He took out his phone and typed in.
[to: Greenlight] I’m here
[to: Greenlight] Entry ready?
The reply chimed in almost immediately.
[from: Greenlight] front doors a hecka its bs
[from: Greenlight] gimme 3
[from: Greenlight] right side done
[to: Greenlight] Taking right
The boy deleted all conversation and put his phone back in his jeans pocket. He shouldered his backpack then and started toward the house, sticking to the shadows.
--- XXX ---
Nick was on the second floor when he heard noises coming from downstairs. A lock he was working on went a quiet click then he hastily secured the delicate tools back into his backpack, taking out a taser gun–right hand–and slipping on a stun ring–left hand.
The thief crept down the stairs, then flattened himself against the wall as he saw figures approaching from the living room. Nick raised his taser, ready to strike.
“Boo!” Then a light, quiet feminine laughter.
Nick lowered his weapon. “For fuck’s sake,” he grumbled, “you wouldn’t be laughing if I accidentally charged you 50,000 volts.”
A girl stepped out of the shadows, followed with a serious-looking young man. “Aw nah, we know you’re better than that,” she said with a grin. The guy behind her raised a hand in greeting, “Nick.”
“Hey, man,” Nick returned. “I gotta get back upstairs. You guys got this covered?”
“Aspen got it covered,” the girl chirped, then quickly trailed Nick close. “I need to check specifics on the second floor.”
“Last minutes again?”
“Last seconds, more like,” she corrected him.
“More of those lately,” Aspen said, already with his torchlight on and toolbox out, his voice deep and calm, yet both other thieves had learned to read what was implied in the quiet man’s words. They exchanged glances, but knew this wasn’t the time to dawdle, and without wasting another second went on their way.
Aspen set about the space, checking drawers and cupboards first, lingering on ornaments displayed in the open, weighing the possible money it would get.
A sound of footstep. Close.
He turned around, expecting either of his partners, but found himself face-to-face with an unfamiliar man. Is that a bow? What in hell?
The young man placed his fingers under the tip of his tongue and whistled, high and clear. Then he moved, diving in behind the kitchen island, and grabbing his toolbox.
--- XXX ---
Perhaps if he had not listened to Green, he would’ve finished the job by now. Forty five minutes should have been more than enough time to sneak inside, snatch the prize, and stroll back out again. But as headstrong as he was, Nicholas trusted his friends, and among the few of them, Green was definitely one. So here he was, almost one hour since he had arrived, lying low, quite literally, among the thick laurel shrubs across the mansion. Something crawled on his forearm under the long sleeve, and he smacked at it impatiently. That must be the seventh or eighth ant corpse he was harboring on his clothes. The night air was cool, yet he wiped at his brows, ridding the thin layer of sweat. His phone buzzed finally, and he tapped on the screen to find a new text from Green.
[ from: Greenlight ] u ready?
Nick was ready to kick Green from his short list of friends, alright. He typed hastily instead.
[ to: Greenlight ] You know I’m right here waiting for your cue
[ to: Greenlight ] Are you in?
[ from: Greenlight ] um yea…
[ from: Greenlight ] have been for a bit but
[ to: Greenlight ] DUDE WTF
[ from: Greenlight ] no listen
[ from: Greenlight ] something’s not right
[ from: Greenlight ] it’s too easy, man
[ from: Greenlight ] totally below expectation
[ from: Greenlight ] they should’ve stellar security
[ from: Greenlight ] but it doesn’t look like it
He frowned reading the texts, knowing it couldn’t be good.
[ to: Greenlight ] Can you figure out what’s wrong?
[ from: Greenlight ] yea maybe but I’m gonna need some time
[ to: Greenlight ] Don’t worry I’m having fun being a mosquito feeder here
[ to: Greenlight ] How long?
[ from: Greenlight ] some time like some hours
[ from: Greenlight ] like u really should go home now
[ from: Greenlight ] n come back tomorrow
[ from: Greenlight ] or the day after
Even when he knew nobody could hear him–or because of that–Nick cursed out loud. There was a deadline for the job, and he wouldn’t risk failing to finish it. Part of it was not willing to trifle with the Guild, and the other part was the status he had earned and meant to keep.
[ to: Greenlight ] Yeah not happening
[ to: Greenlight ] I’m going in
[ to: Greenlight ] Eye in the sky?
There was an uncharacteristically pending answer from Green, and Nick could imagine the boy trying to piece his words together, stringing them to dissuade him from the idea. But it seemed like he knew Nick better than expected, as the texts finally arrived, relented.
[ from: Greenlight ] sure man
[ from: Greenlight ] just
[ from: Greenlight ] be very very careful
[ from: Greenlight ] bad vibes tbh
Nick didn’t bother with a reply. He had to get going before his confidence deserted him, after all.
Sam tittered at the notion. He tried to imagine his Aunt, younger and still full of spirit, approaching the forever calm and collected Hallahan boy still smiling despite his patched-up face. Yeah, Samuel did seem like the sort didn’t he?
When Aunt Arabella leaned forward, Sam leaned in as well as if hearing a newfound secret. And then, at the revelation, Sam’s mouth hung open, slack-jawed. “He. Did. NOT!” he exclaimed, bewildered at the very thought! “Did he really say that?? Uncle Samuel??” Any strength he had to contain his laughter went out the bistro window, and he almost choked on his sandwich.
Finally after gaining some composure, Sam had to agree. “Well then that just begs the question; how did you ever change his mind??”
"He did so," Arabella confirmed, nodding solemnly, pleased at the disbelief he had shown. "How would one take that as a no offense, I ask you? Excusez-moi, Monsieur, very offended, totally taking it personal." She laughed fondly though. "My late Samuel, he was my sparring partner, you could say."
"But of course, I am nothing if not resilient." She took a sip of her drink, raised her glass slightly as if to congratulate herself. "I just kept pestering him, ha! Until he finally agreed to one date, I suppose just to get me off his back. And then when the day came, I did not show up to our date."
She noticed Sam's expression, and quickly amended, "Oh no no, not to get back at him or anything. It just so happened that my cat died that very day, and I could not come to the date because I couldn't stop crying."
There was a brief pause as the waiter came to their table to clear off the finished plates, and Arabella took a moment to order desserts for them both, also a suggestion for Sam, "I heard their Arabica is one of the best sourced, if you'd like coffee?"
“OoOoh~ I’m shakin’ in my boots~” Axel chuckled back, already grabbing a mug and pouring himself a coffee fresh from the pot. He kept his distance, leaning against the counter as he took grateful sips and cleared his throat. The man was large enough to block the entire back door and tall to dust the top of the fridge without breaking a sweat. His mullet was dyed red at the ends and tied up in a samurai-bun. He had noticeable ink and scars on his neck and hands. He’s done rough work, anyone with a certain background could tell.
“Haven’t seen you around before,” he said behind his coffee mug, his russet eyes staying locked on Nick. “Where’d you an’ Nat meet?”
Obviously Nick did not appreciate the mock, but all things considered, the older guy did seem like he would make a formidable enemy, given the chance. Nick watched him in silence, wondering what was his poison, exactly.
His first instinct was to shot back, None of your business, but perhaps if he volunteered some information, the other would do the same? But the mention of the name had him glancing at the girl who was currently busy picking through some titles. He made a mental note to find out later. Nat, huh? Natasha? Nathania? Natalie?
"Silverlight," he named the bar, then gave a curt nod toward the man, "And you don't exactly look like a bookstore keeper." A lot was implied there, whichever part would he respond to, if he did, should ease Nick's curiosity somewhat.
Helen raised an eyebrow at the woman occupying the hospital bed. “You know, that’s twice within 5 minutes you’ve told me to go home. You do realize the more often you advise me to, the more suspicious I become?” In all fairness though, Lir did look much better this morning.
“I mean it when I said I need to talk about something, though, just a moment, then I’ll be on my way and you can rest some more.” Helen sat in the chair next to Lir’s bed, crossing her ankles. “You see, I’m taking a leave, probably few months, maybe a bit longer, we’ll see.” She paused, a small smile on her lips. “My husband and I, we–we’ve been trying for years. I’ve lost–” Her deep breath was no longer miserable, only wistful. “And so you see why we’re not taking any chances now.” She locked eyes with her again. “I hope this isn’t asking too much–I’ve a feeling you’d rather agree to this–but can you help Matty for a little while when I’m not around? Just until someone else can come to cover. I’ll help looking. He won’t ever bring this up, but I know it will be rather difficult for him to communicate on his own.”
—
When Matthew arrived home, nothing was out of the ordinary. He parked his motorbike just before the porch, and unlocked the front door to let himself in. Nick was not home and wouldn’t be for a few days, already noting that he would stay at his friend/colleague’s house preparing for their next job. The hallway was quiet as always and nothing was visually amiss, but Matthew paused, unease dawning on his features. He could not pinpoint what made him stop. Perhaps it was only exhaustion catching up with him, right? After quite an eventful day it was to be expected that he felt a bit off.
─────── .⋅ﾟ+..｡*ﾟ+ .⊰
Lir snorted at Helen’s tone. Really, the woman missed nothing, she thought, she’d need to watch her step around her.
Her next words, however, surprised her just as she was going to reassure the other woman she was, indeed,not going anywhere-she couldn’t exactly tell her she was rushing out of here the moment she was left alone, could she?
“You’ll be fine. Trust me on it, I’ve…a good instinct and i know to trust it,” she smiled faintly. She’d just scanned Helen, after all, and everything seemed perfectly fine. “And I’ll do my best, I promise…assuming I remain assigned here, that is,remember, I’m only here for this odd case,” it was her turn to sound wistful, she realised. “He’s a nice one, Matt,” she added, clearing her throat. What the hell, she was never awkward but right now, she definitely felt so.
Helen looked at the other woman with a slight smile, thinking that instinct was just about as good as a wild guess when it comes to this particular topic, but she appreciated the sentiment all the same.
"That is very sweet of you to say, of course I hope you're right." She perked up a bit, "Hey who knows, maybe if you're still around town when the time comes, you can come join the baby shower!"
Her smile turned cheeky at the mention of Matt, watching Lir's uncharacteristic fumbling. "Right?? 'Nice' doesn't even begin to cover. Y'know, if I didn't love my own man so dearly I might have gone for Matty myself." She winked. "You should've seen his face when you got shot, I mean, I'm certain he cares about you deeply. But--" she stood up and took her purse. "--enough of me rambling, I'm sure you'd much rather get some more rest. Bye for now, get some sleep and call me if you need anything, anything at all, okay?"
-----
Matthew decided to run a hot bath instead of his usual shower, he deserved this after such a long day--two days--and thinking that maybe it would help, if it really was only fatigue that had unnerved him entering his own home. He turned the tub faucet on and left the bathroom door open, then walked to his bedroom to get fresh clothes. The sound of water running was a disadvantage to him, or perhaps it would not have mattered at all, as the one they have sent for him was no amateur.
Something glinted at the corner of his eyes, left side, and Matthew turned. He did not have time to react physically, but he caught his breath, and with it, the object stopped mid air, 10 centimeters from his eyes. What? It must be some kind of knife, as it was sharp on both ends. But it also shone dimly yellow in his darkened room.
He let his focus dip and it fell to the floor. And there was another movement at the dark corner of his room. Shit shit shit. He did not have time to think. He fixed his mind on the broadest item in his room, and moved it. The comforter flew to the middle of the room, blocking whatever it was, a soft barrier between him and the intruder. Matt did not wait to see whether it was effective, and bolted out his room, running downstairs.
It was such a fascinating, strange, bittersweet feeling; Sam hearing all of this about an uncle he never had the chance to know. He could remember only a few things about him like how his hair and eyes were brown, just like his mother’s. His voice and smile were gentle and kind, but his face was fuzzy when Sam tried recalling what he looked like. He always needed to look at the photos to get the perfect image of a smug-looking Samuel Hallahan.
To hear that Aunt Arabella was smitten so suddenly after such a turn of events, Sam chuckled. But then to hear how his uncle was playing hard to get, Sam stifled his laughter by cupping a hand over his mouth. It was just not something he expected but he couldn’t wait for his aunt to elaborate.
"No way!” he exclaimed. “Was he tryin’ to get back at you? But like… What did you do after finding out? What did he say??”
"Now don't you laugh! I was young.. er, cut me some slack!" But Arabella was chuckling herself. It was not hard for Arabella, being her extra friendly-self, to form connections with people, but she was grateful especially for this with Sam. Thankful that he did not judge her for leaving all those years ago, when the grief was too hard to bear. Thankful that he only welcomed her now, no questions asked, at least not yet.
Her smile was soft as she continued, answering his prompts. "No, I do not think he was getting back at me. Unlike me, he was not petty."
"I was straightforward, no games, I went to him and asked him out on a date.. Well, on the pretense of payback of his helping me, et cetera et cetera.. He replied that he was not doing all that to win brownie points with me. And get this.." She leaned forward, eyes big in disbelief, as though what she was about to say happened just yesterday, instead of almost two decades ago. "He said to me, 'I'm flattered but I don't think we would be a good fit, no offense.' Word for word. Can you believe that?" She scoffed but laughed after, "Jokes on him, right, darling? 'Cause of course, how wrong had he been?"
There are quite a lot of forests in Wonderland, and Caitlyn’s house is located in the very heart of one, high above the ground, perched between two old huge trees. It is small and shaped very much like a birdhouse, slightly longer than it is wider. The two slanted walls are made of glass and the other two of wood. The entrance doesn’t exactly have a door, what with the wooden wall opening up in the middle and the round hole is covered with a heavy curtain hanging from the inside.
Once entering the house, you can immediately see how it is only consisted of one room. Now, the wall opposite the entrance, is one thing you simply can’t ignore. Not long after her arrival in Wonderland, Caitlyn painted the whole wall to depict the night sky, dark blue with scattered stars and greyish clouds. And most of the times, it stays that way. Some days though, Wonderland will think it a good day to alter the painting.
The glass wall on the left has lots and lots of glass jars lining before it. 387. Glass jars of every color and size, one sitting atop the other precariously. Some of them are filled with the most random things, like glass pieces, beads, sand, small bones. But the rest of them are empty. At least, they look empty.
The glass wall on the right is more like a window, a floor-to-ceiling window, divided into four rectangles with wooden frame. It can be opened sideways, and it is often opened, especially on warmer days.
The slanted ceiling are covered with two sheets of light blue fabric. There are various mobiles hanging from them. In the center there are colorful paper cranes, and around them just.. various things, branches, shells, bells, ribbons. Practically anything she can find and hang.
There are a lot of pillows scattered about the floor. A pile of blankets on one corner. A small bookshelf, where she places a bit of stationery, fairytale books, mostly, also some diaries or journals, not hers but random people’s. There is a small cupboard next to the bookshelf to keep dishes she barely uses. Also a medium size crate, locked, for few things she owned that she would rather keep to herself.
She uses a kind of fireflies in a jar as light source. It’s a Wonderland thing. And the moon, of course.
That’s about all in there.
So far you might have noticed that there was no mention of any bed. That’s because her bed is outside of the treehouse, hanging just a little beneath the house itself, slightly closer to the ground. It’s not located in the same tree, and is visible from the house. A literal bed though, not a hammock or the likes. The canopy of trees and the magic of Wonderland keeps her bed warm and dry and untouched by the weather.
What they smell like: Freshly cut grass and that slight fragrance sometimes found in wild flowers.
How they sleep (sleeping position, schedule, etc): She sleeps on her side, slightly curling in with her arms around her pillows.
What music they enjoy: Classical and folk music.
How much time they spend getting ready every morning: Not much time, as she doesn’t need to eat. The girl only puts her hair back up and washes her face, that’s all.
Their favorite thing to collect: Oh anything can go into her jars, but her favorite would be stray diaries, journals, letters.. Things that have secret stories in them.
Left or right-handed: Right handed.
Religion (if any): None, that’s how it goes in Wonderland. Though the funny thing is people still mention ‘god’ or 'gods’ sometimes in everyday conversation. But if you ask them they would go like 'It’s just a saying.’
Favorite touristy thing to do when traveling: Sneaking into cracks and locked places, wandering around and eventually getting distracted by the most random things.
Favorite kind of weather: She doesn’t have a preference in this, just as long as the weather doesn’t interfere with her activities too much.
A weird/obscure fear they have: Very few things scare her, and most of them are located in the southern forest of Wonderland. The fear was not unreasonable though.
The carnival/arcade game they always win without fail: I have a feeling that she will be very very good at that claw crane game.
What they smell like: A chilly winter morning, that fresh and cold scent, also peppermint and pine forest.
How they sleep (sleeping position, schedule, etc): She sleeps on her back, with one arm under her head and the other on her stomach or dangling down as she often sleeps on random trees, walls, benches, roofs. Her hoodie is pulled down to cover her face whenever she’s sleeping.
What music they enjoy: Almost all kind of music, though nothing too metal/hardcore. She also often wears this amused expression at rap music.
How much time they spend getting ready every morning: Say that again? Her morning ritual usually consists of yawning and rubbing her eyes and stares off to nothing in particular until she’s good to go.
Their favorite thing to collect: Nothing, really. That is until she actually has a place to keep things at North’s workshop. Mostly it’s little trinkets given by the children of Burgess or other believers.
Left or right-handed: Right handed.
Religion (if any): She doesn’t really have any, though she curses at the Moon sometimes XD
Favorite touristy thing to do when traveling: Enjoying the view and the site first, and then walking around among other tourists to listen to their conversations, basically liking the feeling of being part of a crowd. And of course, doing harmless little pranks here and there.
Favorite kind of weather: In winter, bright clear day or lightly snowing day, as those are the perfect weather to spend outside. She hatesrain in winter as it messes up the snow. In other seasons, anything but the sun-shiny day. The blazing sun’s just too much for her.
A weird/obscure fear they have: Mildly claustrophobic. Hates spiders. Wary around fire, as extreme heat hurts her a lot.
The carnival/arcade game they always win without fail: Probably something that involves dart-throwing. And she’s pretty good at shooting games, the arcade ones though.
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