WITH HER HAND STRIKING HEAVEN

[lvdygrim]

x — SIMON:

Simon shook his head. He had no desire to let her down. Rather, he wanted the exact opposite. He’d screwed up plenty of relationships in the past, he’d been married and divorced, been a bad boyfriend to different partners. He’d been mostly unlikable in primary and secondary school that he hadn’t even begun to make friends until he went to university. And his relationship with Mimi…whatever that was, wasn’t one of the relationships he wanted to ruin.

Perhaps if he knew her better, he would’ve guessed that by emergency, she had been referring to her birthday present, something Simon only realized in hindsight. But looking to the past and wishing he’d paid more attention or done something differently would do nothing for him now.

So, after a flurry of blinks, Simon bent down toward his shoe and retrieved the key to the handcuffs that he pressed between his sock and shoe ( he’d known enough pickpockets in his years to keep things out of easy reach in his pockets ). Once he freed himself from the handcuffs, Simon handed the unlocked end to Mimi. “Just…lock him somewhere in a bathroom or in a corner somewhere out of the way,” He instructed. “I shouldn’t be gone long. Don’t kill him. And…don’t go anywhere,” He’d hate to have to search through half the city for Mimi and for his job. 

He should’ve left her flat as soon as possible so he could get back as soon as possible, yet his eyes lingered on her a second too long, to the point where he could feel the awkwardness growing. Simon cleared his throat, then faced the door. “I’ll be right back.”

oh. honestly, it wasn’t an answer she knew to expect. for him to simply .. agree like that, was kind of marvelously flooring. in a nice way. as stated, her birthday was still a couple days out. and while she was insanely dramatic about it all and may have absolutely cursed the very thought of doing anything of the kind, waiting until the day of wouldn’t have actually killed her. it’d probably put her off of wanting to see him until the day, which would be a different sort of struggle in all actuality, but it wouldn’t result in her physical death. the surprise seems to color her features momentarily before the archaeologist appears to recover properly in the seconds to pass, noting his words with her usual tone.

“i’ll be here. .. not killing him.” despite whatever temptations lay present, naturally. mostly due to a petty level of disgust for the time the man had stolen, but that was unimportant now. .. yup. 

just as soon as she might wave simon off in expectation of his leave however, mimi doesn’t hear the door as soon as she might expect. instead, she feels simon’s eyes on her as she moves towards the would-be prisoner to ascertain what she might do with him next. fearful he’d changed his mind or that he simply didn’t trust her to keep her word, the woman’s shift in gaze moves towards the door at the very moment simon makes his actual leave, barely catching his eye. it was another one of those things that didn’t offer easy explanation or reasoning; it was merely a habit, perhaps. something that happened between them more often than she actually knew, lately. and just as she might think to truly question it, he seemed to disappear. as usual. this time right through the entrance.

and while she knew it was definitely her fault that he’d left at all, there was the hope he’d be back much sooner, a sort of emptiness filling his absence despite the unwanted guest still around. with a hand still on the cuffs and a thought to drag said guest on the balcony to dangle helplessly for a quick laugh thwarted by her supposed promise and a need to keep attention to a minimum, mimi opts for another alternative: a linen closet. cramped and dark and .. mostly soundproof on account of the thicker fabrics present there already. pretty perfect if you asked her.

[lvdygrim]

x — HAN:

grimacing to himself, he thought of those bittersweet memories where he was obvious to the notion of his sister being the favorite, and clung to another without his sister…

he’d have fled an unloving mother so long ago, maybe around the fist decade of his life. perhaps he’d have joined multiple gangs, instead of the one, and proven himself worthy far earlier in life. he could have even gained enough experience so that he’d already be of higher ranks without a need to prove himself. maybe he’d have settled with the same wife, with a different attitude, who was actually proud of him; of whom he didn’t have to feel like he had to pull teeth to understand the depths of love. but that’s too psychological for even him to understand. something, perhaps, taught at an earlier age– that love is something earned, and not easily given. just as glory is won with tokens. but with a twin sense, things get a bit easier. 

thus he grumbles, “You’re welcome.” and without even arguing against a fault he states, “We’ll get you new shoes.” it’s a grumble meant to be tossed to the side, but a serious one none the less. “…and a Happy Meal.” that promise was more to stir some Mimi irritation. he had children to feed, a wife whom he much rather take on a steak dinner date, and if his sister wanted something in her mouth, well…unfortunately there was Simon for that.

“Mimi, you feed me breadcrumbs of a life I would love to be a part of. It feels as if you only come around when you want to show off, or,” he rolled his eyes, “Drink. And before you ask–the plantlings are doing just fine without their mother. They do complain, however, she doesn’t visit enough.” that complaint was, however, masked in his own co-dependent whine. “But who am I to argue against that?” he’d take her hand weakly and as if to actively display that co-dependence, he was already draping his arm around her shoulder for much needed support as they headed into the bar, “How’s about a piggyback ride? My leg is quite literally shot.”

it was a little funny how it never quite occurred to her that he might refuse her ‘request’, though perhaps that was entirely due to her knowing it was never something so kind as that. demands of her sibling were within her usual realm of action and of little surprise to anyone who might know the pair well enough. there was never guilt and often a threat of pain, should she be refused. pain that mimi was certain han knew well enough from his wife as well, these days. and so when there was a mention of a child’s meal in place of her medium-rare meat, the only thing that saved him was in fact the promise of new footwear. instead of a punch in the gut, he was met with a perfectly arched brow and the slightest, eventual shrug of shoulders. “fine.” she gives smoothly, a devilish curl in her lips. “i’ll just have your wife take me out instead. she at least knows how to treat a woman.”

her smugness remains even as han seems less willing to embrace some of her not so great tendencies, laying them bare for her to merely brush aside. “you’re forgetting the occasions where i show off while drinking.” if there were ever a situation that called for proper regret however, it could be then. where the lack of quality time she offered her favorite twin — or darling, sweet plants — had become apparent. a fact that he is quick to pounce on in this instance as he laments their lack of shared space as they’ve aged. instead of taking immediate blame and offering apologies, however, mimi instead appears to bottle it away as she guides her brother along by the offered appendage. it was more his fault than hers for having children that couldn’t fit in baggage claim, anyway. or couldn't without causing a fuss.

“you know, it’s sometimes hard to believe you have children all your own with how much you whine. if i promise to cut a few trips in the coming days, will that make you less .. this?” and yes, this was absolutely a favor for him rather than herself. and had nothing to do with the fact that her last few outings had been somewhat miserable and unfulfilling affairs, now that she gave it some thought. she hadn’t missed him at all, of course. or simon. never that. 

all that aside, however, “if you hop on my back, i will snap your legs.”

[lvdygrim]

x — KHADIJA:

“Mm-hmm,” Khadija responded to Mimi with a noncommittal hum. Her eyes were set on the pool water but she wasn’t truly looking at the water. Her mind had drifted away from reality moments ago since they arrived by the pool. After stepping out of a role or finishing her business, relaxation was the only thing she cared about. Playing with people’s lives could be so exhausting sometimes. However, Khadija never believed she could be bored of it. “The best.” She blissfully sighed. “I truly adore days like this.” There were honesty and jubilation in her words; a common habit that occurred whenever she was around Mimi. Loyalty, friendship, and trust were not aspects that Khadija valued highly throughout her life. They were only tools for her to use to get what she wants. And Mimi was one of those rare cases that fell on the fine line between a plaything and a partner. Mimi was different from the others and similar to her. An ally, a playmate, a sister in arms.

it might seem odd to another, had they known of their usual whereabouts, for mimi to choose another location that was not the continental to reside in. however, the continental had its rules and various guidelines. they were far too many familiarities present within its walls. and so new walls, new rules, new .. joyous playthings were occasional necessities. the capacity to step out of old comforts to explore without overzealous restrictions an absolute requirement. and mimi had little trouble believing her companion’s words once they filled the much too pleasant air; they were rather similar in such needs. 

beyond all of that, the continental was simply much too far to bother with and the archeologist was feeling spectacularly lazy about the trip back.

“mm. maybe we should find some toys to play with soon.“ mimi states without much prompting, her gaze lingering now on her glass after partaking. it mirrors the distorted image of passing figures just a short distance behind. “.. should we pick a theme?”

[lvdygrim]

x — HARPER:

Desperation had caused her to rely on another for help–the panic and desire to flee, the reassurance that there was at least someone on her side that knew what she’d done had been entirely on accident. That suffocating feeling had been felt a time ago, the alcoholic haze causing Harper to question the reality she’d stumbled across, Mimi standing over a body, initial assessment of the situation welling up and catching in her throat. Rather than scream and attempt to run away, Harper had remained frozen, alarmingly calm as Mimi explained, the existence of powers still unfamiliar to someone who’d been practically locked away from the rest of the world her entire life, forced to absorb and follow the knowledge of good vs. evil. 

What Harper now knew was supposedly for her own benefit rather than plain ignorance and fear. 

But to wind up in the same place again was surely pure coincidence, nothing about fate or whatever higher power Harper was forced to believe in. They’d used one another–that had been their tether. Friendship perhaps in another life, not even a blip on their radars in an effort to keep their secrets hushed. Harper had thought she’d seen Mimi in the Continental, just before rounding a corner and disappearing, in the crowd, but never enough to fully acknowledge her presence. Harper had been entirely too focused on absorbing and adapting, quietly observing and acting more aloof and carefree than she truly was. Trust was never something she’d picked up in her lifetime.

Civil enough to exchange small talk, light and airy as the steam in the sauna, Harper’s muscle aches fading away the longer she sat. “Training’s been a bitch.” She said through an exhaled breath, curious now to know how Mimi had faired. “What level are you now? Got that ability of yours under control in terms of your rage?” Teasing, it was evident in the curl of Harper’s lips, visible through the steamed room.  

“mm, associate. i’m not certain i intend to stay, however. .. you?” the tease to follow draws a shrug half-hearted, gliding along relaxed shoulders. flickers of amusement color her features. despite the debatably cooler visage often on display, mimi was never someone who’d dare lay claim to the notion that she was ever without a heightened temper. it had a tendency to flare up rather quickly, even these recent years. there was little to guess what might cause it. “some days are better than others, maybe.” the admittance is certainly easier to come towards — after all, it wasn’t something she’d outright consider a weakness even with the stigma it might usually carry. mimi’s was often a productive anger, anyhow .. except when it came to her brother. usually. 

“i don’t remember much on training,” the song sibling starts again, “but it must be quite something to land you here. .. or are you wearing yourself thin elsewhere too?” yet of course, mimi had known, better than some, how near impossible that’d be. at least by traditional means. “hm, bad joke, maybe.” it’s given after a moment’s contemplation, a soft chuckle creeping through. if little else, it might seem clearer she meant no harm by it, by her tone and similar such indications. though it still isn’t quite an apology. and the brunette presses on regardless. 

“though, i do wonder," at this, the brunette's gaze seems nearly distracted by the clouds of steam before her attentions shift again to her company in earnest. "how creative you get, should the occasion arise.” she knew so little about harper recently, mimi couldn’t quite gauge whether such a thing even mattered to her. all the same, it isn't a press; it isn't something harper is expected to dignify with an answer if she chooses not to. it's mere curiousness. one that often draws a shamelessness in the woman.

[lvdygrim]

x — GILBERT:

“I’m thinking more along the lines of Hallmark,” he replied, sifting through the papers. He looked up at his associate, eyebrows raised as he circled back to her joke. “Could help you come up with better material.” The promise of lost treasures certainly piqued his interest. “So, you’re telling me you compiled the world’s best Christmas catalog for thieves?“

Gilbert combed through the records, curiosity begetting a furrowed brow. Dust rose from the parchment collection as he zeroed in on a handful of documents he found odd. “Some of these are fictitious, aren’t they?” he asked. “This one here – the sword of Rhydderch the Generous – is just an old Welsh legend. And what about that one there, King Arthur’s crown? Really, who’s going to believe this storybook crap?”

He scoffed at the papers, about to dismiss them entirely before an attached photograph made him pause. It was an up-close, detailed shot of an old painting. The artwork was stylized, something he’d write off as an Arthurian fairytale if not for an object painted in the foreground. Gilbert picked it up, peering at it closely.

If he’d unknowingly stolen a puzzle piece to the location of King Arthur’s crown, easily worth a fortune due to the historical significance of proving he wasn’t just a figment of legend…then he needed to make a few emergency calls. He hummed, and hoped that Arthur and Dottie hadn’t found the time to melt down that golden puzzle box yet. 

 “Uh, what’s that? And is it important? We might have a problem.”

a pair of rolling eyes follows his mention of hallmark. “why even bother.”

“you only have yourself to blame there.” mimi offers as he remarks on her material, implying he was the one responsible for it slipping through at all. a consequence of spending, perhaps, a little too much time in his company. “you are the expert on awful material.” a flash of a smirk trails the words before focus turns to the work in his hands again, a sort of shrug in her shoulders in regards to what she’d actually managed to do for their like kind. for her part, mimi was nothing if not thorough, and had followed the instruction she’d been given flawlessly. it didn’t matter whether it seemed to be the stuff of fairytales to her too for more than a fair share of the research she’d done: it was what was asked of her. and it had a reward to its name. 

as gilbert seems to zero in on something a little more interesting, there’s a quick recall on his mention of storybooks and the like and an easy laugh that flutters passed her lips. “it seems you might.” a hand gestures for him to pass along the photo so that she might have a better idea of what he’s referencing, eyeing it carefully when it’s finally in her grasp. “this is a painting that has ties to an old tapestry, presumably detailing the iron crown that disappeared circa 14th century. it’s known to some as llywelyn's coronet but to others, it’s gained notoriety as the very crown you mentioned.” by which mimi obviously meant arthur’s crown. “there’s some confusion as to which the painting actually details or if they’re really one and the same; there aren’t very many clues around these days. that box there,” she places a delicate finger against the box in the foreground. “is supposedly among the few leads remaining.”

a perfectly arched brow ticks upward curiously thereafter however, as she picks up the last of his words and gives him her full attention. “a problem such as?” 

[lvdygrim]

x — SIMON:

Simon took in the room around them. He saw the various magazines scattered on the coffee table and an assortment of plants along her balcony, but everything was as Simon remembered, even the soft blanket tossed over an arm chair. Mimi’s appearance didn’t warrant any worry either. Simon couldn’t even spot a single wrinkle in her clothes despite the fact that she seemed to have been lounging before his arrival.

There had never been an emergency, Simon realized. The birthday present was the emergency.

He sighed. Knowing both Han and Mimi for as long as he had, he had difficulty in judging just what their emergencies could mean, ranging from either I need help getting rid of a body to I’m out of cigarettes. And the latter seemed to be the emergency of the day.

Had anyone else been in front of him, Simon would’ve shook his head and promised the birthday present for a future day. But both Mimi and Han wouldn’t take to that notion very well. And when she closes the distance between them, he knows she won’t take it well.

He should promise to retrieve her present from his car or assure her that it’s safely tucked away at his apartment, but with her standing so close, he notes something else. “You…your hair. It smells nice.” A compliment on her shampoo or conditioner or whatever product it is she put on it. He was even tempted to reach out and brush a strand that had flown astray with her movements off to the side, but the handcuff jingles on his wrist and he remains still.

“I, uh,” He cleared his throat then. “I do have a present for you,” Because of course he got a gift for the girl he couldn’t stop thinking about. “But not…with me…right now…”

whether intended or not, the compliment serves as a decent distraction. it throws her off just enough, a flash of a smile lingering across her lips for more than a few seconds. the sound of the handcuffs is, perhaps, an even better one, for he’d been rather still until then. as a consequence, she can’t help but glance down towards the hand that should have been free. and rather promptly, as if reading his mind, mimi seems to catch right on. if having another privy to their conversation in such a manner hadn’t seemed to bother as much before now, the baggage simon bolted himself to in this moment drew her immediate ire then. rather than wallow in lost opportunities, however, a quick curse towards dashed hopes plays through her mind instead, as painted lips purse again in an attempt to regain herself. 

“.. if you’re trying to let me down gently, you’ll need to do better than that.” but of course, mimi was always a sucker for flattery, most especially from him. she isn’t sure how well he knows that yet, though. regardless, the words she parts with serve as gratitude without the actual ‘thank you’ attached, as she only seemed to save that for what she deemed as more appropriate moments. bigger ones, maybe. 

when he finally gets to the part she needs him to, however, there seems to only be further disappointment. and her expression seems to reflect her lack of patience with the answer he provides. she’s even tempted, then, to toss the glass in his face, her grip along the base of the wine tightening before she takes a moment to review. to pause, and consider. she even steps back physically, though it’s more a means to ease her temptations because he hadn’t, exactly, said the words she feared. he hadn’t forgotten. that was deserving of a chance. 

“you claim it’s a surprise,” she begins, her frustrations with the lack of results evident as she chooses her words quite carefully. “.. so i’ll assume you won’t offer me a hint.” a parting glance is given to the man at simon’s wrist at that moment, and the care the medium had given in bringing him all this way in the first place. “fine. if i have you ditch him here, and swear not to kill him, will you get it then?”

[lvdygrim]

x — SIMON:

Relief washed over Simon when Mimi, finally, brought him into the flat. He had several excuses prepared in case anyone were to ask why he had a masked man handcuffed to him at the top floor of a high rise building ( ranging from ‘Do you really want to know?’ to ‘I’m undercover and it’s top secret’. He had a badge prepared and everything ), but Simon preferred to stick to the shadows and avoid any such unpleasant questions. No arguments would surface against that. Despite the handcuffed man’s reluctance, Simon tugged him into the flat. The metal had been digging into both of their wrists the entire trip. Despite Simon not wanting to leave any physical marks on either of them, he knew they would flaunt matching red rings against their skin once the handcuffs came off.

Simon locked the door behind them, for security’s sake, and looked at Mimi expecting some sort of explanation. An answer. Something to confirm all the worries his own imagination had conjured. Yet his imagination wouldn’t have been able to guess her reasoning.

“A…birthday present…” He repeated, fearing for a skipped heartbeat that he may have heard her wrong. But no, her gaze confirmed that he hadn’t. “For…you?”

Of course for her. He knew Han and Mimi were born at the end of January ( he’d always made sure to get Han a cake and he still sent them both a letter, even while behind bars ). So yes, he didn’t plan on missing it this year either. But he hadn’t expected so many phone calls and missed messages to be over…a present.

“I…uh…” Well, he didn’t have it with him right then and there. He didn’t like taking valuable things with him to work. But with Mimi looking right at him, he couldn’t just tell her no, he didn’t have one ( or, rather, he didn’t want to disappoint her ). “It’s…a surprise,” He decided on. “Why…” His eyes shifted from Mimi to the masked man, then back again. “Do you want it…now? Is that the emergency?”

the idiocy of his response earns him a swift sigh of exasperation. did she actually like this man? “no, for my triplet.” she gives dryly. mimi placed the magazine in her right hand aside entirely for now, keeping a steady grip on her glass instead as an eye roll escaped her. “.. dummy.” mentally, she’s drawing back any praise she might have offered him for his accomplishments thus far. obviously, he deserved none of it. 

her stare never parts from him while he fumbles for a proper reply, and honestly it was a little amusing to see him struggle through it between sips of lovely red wine. and for mimi’s part, she doesn’t miss a beat when the question of what she expects of him is finally posed, catching on to how simon’s gaze danced between her and their guest. “i want it,” she closes enough distance between them so that she’s within well enough reach to potentially inflict harm if need be before finishing her sentence entirely. “now.”

of course, some part of her, deep down, could comprehend how ridiculous her expectation might seem. after all, her birthday actually wasn’t for another two days. and simon had done as he always did for part one: sent an early card. however, that was also a few days ago. and it had been just as long since that she’d actually seen his face.

and perhaps a fair bit of her worry at the moment had been exactly due to that. 

or the fear that he’d somehow forgotten, despite his card. 

or that the card would be all that he’d chosen to offer her, at which point her present would actually be no better than han’s. and if that were so, would that mean ... he saw her no differently than her brother? 

... as one might be able to tell, she’d gone through a bit of a spiral being left to her own imagination and she hadn’t allowed herself the opportunity to panic much beyond that before deciding to ring and message him incessantly to assure herself that none of her theories held merit.

and given his answers thus far, there was a creeping concern that she may have fair reason to worry if nothing was given to her right then. it was best to be certain.

[lvdygrim]

x — SIMON:

Simon had always been good at waiting.

He’d waited for his sister to come get him for years. He waited for other people to learn about his ability and not assume he was crazy. He’d waited to have an actual friend, and, often times, he waited for the right person to come along for each of his jobs.

But Mimi didn’t like waiting - he didn’t know if her dislike came from impatience or a fear of being ignored or abandoned or something entirely different. He’d known her for years, and known of her for even longer, but the more time they spent together the more Simon wanted to know just how the geers in her brain worked, how she seemed so amused at everything, where she liked to shop, what her deepest feers were, the perfume she liked to wear. Mimi had never been just Han’s twin sister to Simon: her presence had always been commanding as she demanded all the attention in the room. But with them working more jobs together since joining the Continental…Simon wanted her to want his attention more than others. Attention he would happily, freely give with just a bat of those long lashes –

– So long as he wasn’t in the middle of a job. Which he’d had been. In part, he understood her initial anger at his tardiness. She should be able to count on him in an emergency. He’d have to change the settings on his phone to make sure her messages went through. If this situation were to happen again…er…the more Simon looked around the room, he questioned just what situation they were in. Nothing seemed out of place in Mimi’s flat. Mimi looked as well put together as normal, without a single hair out of place. He spotted the magazine in her hand, just before the cuffs on his own hand were tugged by the work he’d been doing a car ride prior.

“I…was in the middle of something,” And he hoped that the apparent eye coverings to disguise their present location to the man he needed to interrogate would be explination enough. “And I couldn’t just…leave work at work,” He held up their cuffed hands to show the other man couldn’t run anywhere else.

“Just ignore him; he’s not important. Are you okay?” He asked again. “Did someone break in? Or…did you get a strange phone call?” There had to be an explination for Mimi’s onslaught of emergency messages. “Or…did the problem already fix itself? I am sorry I was late –” His handcuffs jingled. “–I was a bit indisposed.”

“clearly.” simon’s explanation was an obvious one, given his .. present attachments. and though mimi couldn’t decide exactly whether him being in the middle of a job was enough of an excuse to have her so blatantly ignored, there was a wonder given at how the figure at his side managed the flight upward to her flat. how simon alone had dealt with the extra baggage of another full grown man and made it seem .. effortless. glancing over him once more, he wasn’t entirely breathless or keeled over in an evident show of distress or pain — simon’s concerns, in fact, seemed entirely focused on her. which, given his tardiness, she rather appreciated considering the circumstances. say what you might about the look of him, but it was overly apparent there was more to the medium than most would dare guess — a fact that mimi has latched onto more recently and found herself easily drawn towards.

though, it simply wouldn’t do to have a cuffed and blindfolded man in the middle of the hall for all to see — while having attention fixed on her was generally a nice thing, there was such a thing as bad press. and so rather than bother with answering the onslaught of perfectly reasonable queries initially, the brunette shifted towards the side in a gesture of welcoming the pair indoors before any prying eyes might take notice. “get in.” surprisingly enough, her tone isn’t one tainted in former surprise or outrage. “neighbors are only nosy if you let them be and i’d rather like to avoid unnecessary scrutiny, thank you.”

once they were all safely and securely indoors, however, mimi would let slip exactly why she’d blown up his cell. reaching for the glass of wine she’d once parted with, her gaze drifts to him expectantly.  

“a birthday present.”

[lvdygrim]

who: @missanancy​  / khadija payne  where: nearby hotel

in a lot of ways, anancy was her equal. her kindred kind. primarily in that they both enjoyed their share of shit-stirring and unimaginable chaos. today, however, was a day of repose and relaxation as it wasn’t so often it was permitted. at least in mimi’s case. holding a civilian job alongside her criminal work, there was little time alotted for genuine days of reprieve. and so after engaging the marvelous skilled hands of their local cleaners after an unrelated task of blood and blackmail, mimi convinced her darling friend to join her post mission for a day out on the town. 

this would eventually find the pair where they resided now: poolside at a bordering luxury hotel after a day of shopping and a divine spa treatment. 

mimi held wine in hand presently, admiring herself in the water’s reflection before deciding to speak again, dark hues dancing towards her companion. “best day in awhile, right?”

[lvdygrim]

x — GILBERT:

“Is that so?” he teased. “I’ll send you a card in the mail.” 

Mimi understood the heart of a true thief and for that, he greatly enjoyed her company. Anyone could become a thief, amass a fortune, and proceed to live a quiet life of riches. These types of associates, according to Gilbert, were never real thieves. Gilbert himself could’ve retired a hundred times over, and his skillset certainly meant he’d have no trouble evading the law. 

He stole not for the love of treasure, but the love of theft itself.

In these days of selfish decadence, it was hard finding those who shared his outlook. He couldn’t stop himself from smiling as he leaned forward, words hushed in a conspiratorial tone: “I pried them off a throne – once belonged to a monarch in Europe! – for a client.”

He turned towards the dusty documents, thumbing through them with mild curiosity. You never knew when an old paper had encoded directions to a buried family fortune, after all. “Oh, filling out your taxes? Or is this a will where you leave everything to me, your trusted and wise-beyond-his-years associate?”

“make it an amex black and i accept.”

for mimi, it was both the love of fortune amassed and the mere act of thievery in itself that drew her time and again. the thrills and risks her jobs of choice might offer was an addicting thing, frankly, and there were so few occasions where she might pass up the opportunities to satiate her need for them. and so, with that being said, it was natural that any tale gil may choose to pass along drew enough of her interest, a bloom of a smirk curling her lips as he made a show of describing his latest crime. “well, now. pried them you say? i do wonder how much of a fight thrones put on these days. ... i imagine they’re quite the royal pain.” her face gives little in the way of acknowledging her poor joke, instead eyeing the documents he’d now placed a hand to.

“you know me well enough to know that i intend to die in a mound of riches i’ll part with for no one.” the way the words were spoken, it wasn’t at all easy to guess if mimi was serious or not, however, she resumes with a mind towards the documents in his hand. 

“some are tomb records that were harder to come by. my work as an archaeologist does make it a little easier to get, of course, but it was a bit of a hassle still, i’ll be honest. a lot of the rest .. is more of a compendium, i guess you’d call it. mostly for lost artifacts like the ark of covenant or the emperor’s seal. beardy here,” by which she meant the cartographer who she motioned towards right then, “wanted to compile an ongoing list of what’s presently available. draw up his own maps, if he can. make us a little richer, i’m hoping.” mimi was rarely a sort to do things out of the goodness of her heart, after all. “due to scarcity of what’s there, it took me awhile to gather it all. i only just finished today.”

[lvdygrim]

x — GILBERT:

THE BET | @lvdygrim

There was nothing like a risky gamble to send chills down his spine. In quite the impulsive gesture, he’d betted his entire collection of stolen diamonds. “Of course I’m being serious, Mimi!” he’d said, grinning. “If there’s no challenge involved, then it’s not worth doing.”

That’s how he’d ended inside the secret, clocktower lair of one of the Continental’s deadliest Executive Associates. Whoever stole from them first – or killed, since the duo hadn’t been able to agree on the nature of the job – would become the new owner of the other’s fortune. 

Gilbert’s entry plan had been nearly flawless. He’d entered from the rooftops, having broken the locks on an old skylight. From there, old construction plans showed a series of metal rungs that were once used by roofers and maintenance. He’d been in a great mood – quietly descending the steps in his masquerade mask and sports coat, dreaming of draining every last dime from Mimi’s bank accounts.

However, in his excitement to best her, he’d made a serious miscalculation. The Executive Associate didn’t care about the state of his roof tiles, skylights, or even the face of the clock. Maintenance hadn’t been to the rooftop in years, and so the metal rungs had rusted apart.

CLANG.

Metal splintered underfoot. Gilbert swore under his breath, clinging onto the rusted rung overhead as his feet dangled helplessly midair. It was such a long way down, he wasn’t sure if the metal rung had hit the floor yet. He felt around with his shoes, but the broken rung had knocked at least four feet of others along with it. This wasn’t going according to plan, was it?

Breaking into a place from high up, he’d had the sense to bring some cord along. He fumbled through hidden pockets for the cord, then spent a great deal of time trying to hook it around the lower rungs. Gilbert grew tired of trying to make it perfect; it was good enough to hold his body weight, right? He wet his lips in concentration, wrapped the cord around his hand extra tight, and let go of the upper rung.

CLANG!

The new rung, with all its weathered metal and rust, held his weight…for about thirty seconds. It snapped, and down he went tumbling a full three stories. He gripped the rungs whenever he could, eyes flashing red as he absorbed the momentum of their snapping to slow his fall. 

“OW!” CLANG. “FUCK!” CLANG. “SHIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIT!”

Gilbert landed in a defeated heap, bruised, banged up, and miraculously alive. Rusted flakes coated the palms of his leather gloves and clung to his tie. Nearly four dozen snapped rungs surrounded him on the ground in a ring of shame. “Fancy seeing you here, Mimi,” he said. A rung to the ribs on the way down had – quite literally – punched the air out of his usual bravado, leaving him with little more than a semi-delirious wheeze.

mimi is rather aware when one considers a covert operative, thievery of fortunes isn’t perhaps the first thing that springs to mind. subterfuge, blackmail, infiltration: those are things one might first consider. for someone like mimi however, who valued riches the way she valued breathing, thievery of more than just information often played a part in her usual capers. well that, and killing. she really just .. really loved killing. and the idea that she might come into such marvelous riches by merely besting the gentleman thief at one of their more deadly games, well .. who would dare pass up the opportunity?

and so where gilbert had descended from heights above, mimi had chosen far lower real estate within the lair, making use of an open latch among one of many elevated windows that had been left unattended. it seemed, just as there'd been a lack of actual maintenance skyward, there had been similar levels of neglect on the ground floor, the woman noting the dust and webbing as she slipped through the permitted entryway. madam grim, having apparently done just a smidge more research than her companion perhaps in the week they’d been given, was rather aware of these things well enough ahead, however, having drawn information from a 'willing' guardsman one evening after tailing him a few blocks just nights prior. 

having previously memorized their procedures and routines from previous watches in the week after obtaining the necessary schematics, mimi manages to tread expertly through the lingering shadows while avoiding any undue attention from dwindling security. mostly, anyhow. there’d been a change in path that led her face to face with an unwitting officer or two, but they now lied crumbled masses of melted flesh, tucked away as they should be and well out of sight. staying mindful of their steps and switch of corners going forward, though, she eventually finds herself in an isolated sector. 

the infiltrator intends to move forward until the unexpected occurs: 

a metal rung colliding with marble ground. 

it's later followed by several others and a string of curses, with a wheezing mess of a masked man soon collapsing at her feet, silly cape and all. mimi gazes down with curved lips, a hand lying delicately against her hip. ".. nice of you to drop in, gilly."

apparently, his disaster of a show just then and all its clattering summoned a fair bit of attention their way, as a rhythmic parade of footfalls neared their direction. "looks like we've got company." without missing a beat, mimi turns on her heel, trench coat swaying right along her. a slight wave of gloved fingers and a quick wink flashes towards gil mere seconds before she rushes in the opposing direction of the incoming traffic. "sorry, dear, i won't get caught here. better move it or you're finished!"

[lvdygrim]

who: @obsidicn​ / arthur williams  where: the residence of arthur

it was a simple exchange, something they did enough it no longer seemed as though arthur minded her bothering unlike the first occasion where she merely popped up and proclaimed she had gifts for the creatures he kept. .. after a bit of hunting around regarding just where he actually resided, of course, after gil let the subject slip of unusual pets. and, for once, her relationship with another — let alone a man — held no perverted or otherwise dastardly intentions. there was nothing between she and arthur besides a shared, pure affection for anthropila. that aside, mimi was entirely sure a certain thief had already stolen the programmer’s bleeding, beating heart. she was much too late for all that. 

she stood in wait for the man of the home, plants in hand after being welcomed in ever so graciously. her focus trailed along with the greenery already present, the makings of the space she inhabited, plucking minor details from the crevices they lay until the hacker drew his attention back to him suddenly. “coneflowers and lilac.” she offers, presenting a pair of smaller pots with a warmth rather rare. “i figured we could give these a go, see how they manage?”

[lvdygrim]

who: @nxlimetangere​ / harper bennet where: recovery room

while mimi was certainly someone with an eye for the little things, the familiarity in pheromones, honestly, was what drew her notice first that evening. not the way the woman wore her hair, or how misplaced she nearly seemed — those came after. the last occasion the practitioner of poison might have come across harper before this odd circumstance was a mess of a situation in itself that still summoned the memory of charred flesh and blaring sirens. she’d been called up in a tizzy, one poorly timed favor in exchange for another. and though mimi was glad to have a debt cleared as she was never a fan of having her hand forced, it was strange to be the one helping rather than harming. 

they had fallen away after that, and were reunited now in the sauna room of all places, passing idle chatter in the same way old friends might. mimi sat with crossed legs, towel wrapped and completely at ease in the steam. if it weren’t for the insistence of others, she’d be fully naked rather than conform to the prudish modesty of others ( surprising among thieves and killers ) as there was little she enjoyed more than such freedom to merely be. however, she’d nearly been banned for daring to do so on two occasions and, as she rather liked her privilege a little too much and using abilities were frowned upon for such measures, she wouldn’t risk a third at present. 

that whole matter aside, and wishing to indulge her curiosity further after a break in conversation, a query rather vague crosses her lips:

“so. what landed you here, exactly?” pausing, if only for a moment, the brunette eventually clarified, "to our lovely steam session i mean, of course."

[lvdygrim]

x — WINSTON:

“Ah, the Poisonous Persephone. Isn’t it a bit early for spring?” Winston leaned back in his chair to straighten his repose. She was not one to sleep on.

“What fools these mortals must be, and entirely lost on your whims.” He was certain her ways of enjoying herself were similar to those of his past. Hunger, it seemed, could never pass, and power was something they had in common, but he was old, too old to entertain such notions. “I can’t say I’d have enjoyed myself with so many men, but any fool would turn down a night of fun with someone like yourself.” Yet, he continued to do so. “I’m afraid I’m a busy man. I don’t have time for such overindulgence, but please do enjoy it for the both of us.” Pinching his cigarette between his fingers, he rose the end to his lips, “What marvelous little play things you must collect.”

the recollection of who she could be and his musings of spring earn him a glimmer of a smirk in response, the makings of laughter light and honey-dipped edging by her lips. “I’m inclined to disagree, though i’m sure that won’t surprise you much.” it was never too early to reap the benefits of an early bloom, after all.

a look of mischievous intrigue, by no means well disguised or intended to be, skirts through fluttering lashes, filling her gaze as it often did. he, in turn, prattles on about losses she’s surely endured ( he certainly had no idea ) and his own inclinations that lie in apparent protest with her own. even considering her waning interest and her grasp of his character thus far, it was still, surely, a disappointing enough reveal. and this was perfectly reflected in the protruding pout mimi gives, the huff of dejection she let’s slip. “oh, now. that’s just too bad. i hope you’ll reconsider one day.” and perhaps she means it in a way. after all, imagine the delight in winning over the director for barely a moment or so? to hold just enough sway to have the man crumble beneath her like so many others? it’d be a treat. a true marvel. 

.. perhaps that was a goal for another occasion. 

presently, she focused on her dwindling cigarette as she ashed it away and the arrival of her whiskey neat, a grin curling along her lips at his next request. “i shall do my very best, dear. you’d marvel at my collection, i assure you.” from foreign princes to proper magicians in all the best ways, her list of conquests were, frankly, rather impressive if she did say so herself. and each rarely failed to serve a purpose, fill a role.   

[lvdygrim]

x — HAN:

“OH MY–” there was a kick to his bullet wound, “FUCKING–” another exhale of his words as the stinging continued, “GOD!! MIMI–!!”

he took a moment to writhe in pain, and attempted to pathetically roll away from her stupid fucking kitten heels which he HOPED were now soiled with mold blood. “GET–” a shallow breath, “FUCKING. LOST. AND GO PUT SOMETHING IN YOUR MOUTH, SO YOU CAN LEAVE ME THE FUCK ALONE.” 

the pathetic dumbass would try a roll now– against his injured leg. face fully contorted in pain as he succeeded in a half roll– as an old lumpy turtle would have, balancing on the hard shell of its back. once more, his words lashed out and projected his anger towards the only person who could never truly be mad at.  “DICK OR STEAK I REALLY DON’T FUCKING CARE.” except for when it came to Simon– and for some reason his words were re-triggering that anger and jealousy in another hateful flare. the idea of his best friend’s phalange in his sister’s mouth– no, we’re not going there.

a whine ensued, “I’m trying, if you’d stop kicking me–”  he’d finally found a balance on his palms, elbows straightened and holding his weight. sitting up wasn’t so hard, which was news for the gigantic baby. solemnly and after one of those deep exhales, he realized the crossing of her arms meant she wasn’t going to kick him again. “Give me a second, or a hand. I feel like I’m going to pass out any minute now. Thanks, for that by the way.” a dramatic eye roll met with the moon as he tried to make her feel even more guilty, “When I die tonight, you’ll finally be the favorite and only child. Does that make you happy?”

to no one’s surprise, surely — as mimi was definitely someone who thoroughly enjoyed inflicting what she perceived to be necessary pain on those deserving, which were the majority —  his colorful outbursts only manage to further enthuse her. it meant she was doing something very right. it didn’t mean they weren’t the slightest bit grating, however. .. although she could go for some steak, actually. “shut. up. this is definitely your fault and you know it.” and of course, her heels were properly disgusting now, flecks of vital fluid now a smattering of deep viridian in places she’d never see clean again. with her violent urges satisfied, though, she reasoned this new fact bothered her less than it would have moments before. she could pick up easy replacements. .. it was still definitely han’s fault, though, and he very much deserved to know who took the bulk of the blame. “thanks for ruining my shoes, dingus.” 

peering away from her ruined footwear long enough to see him squirm and whimper some more, an eyeroll of her own counters his with equal measure. particularly in the dramatics. his complaints over due punishment generally fall on deaf ears too. “you’re welcome, dingus. by the way, you owe me a steak now.” it's mentioned, we should note, with a far too confident flip of her hair. yes, that was absolutely the part of his insult that mattered anymore. 

with a gloved hand already reaching to raise him to his feet, the upward twitch in her lips at his attempts to guilt trip her further is likely enough of an answer without any verbal attachment. really, though, she only chooses to follow through for maximum impact. “you’d be as lost without me in death as much as you are in life so it really isn’t in your best interest to tempt fate.” it's a rather dry retort. all the while, there’s obvious effort that goes into finally lugging him upright and mimi continues in spite of this. “anyway, you know i’m the favorite already so it wouldn’t really change much for me, honestly.”

[lvdygrim]

x — SIMON:

@lvdygrim·

When Simon Song was on a job, he either kept his phone turned off, silent, or he simply didn’t look at it. Whatever emergency could wait until he had the information he needed, the pictures that were requested, or the evidence required to get the job done. The man he was currently questioning sat tied in a chair before him. Unlike most interrogation scenes seen in action films, Simon didn’t enjoy implementing torture ( broken fingers and bloody nails were far too messy, in his opinion ). No, the man didn’t have as much of a scrape on him. But, well, Simon’s more difficult to see friends had assisted him in gathering a fair amount of blackmail material. And just when Simon pulled out the files he’d collected – the phone in his pocket buzzes. And buzzes. And continues to buzz, buzz, buzz, to the point where Simon can’t ignore it. And he can’t just leave the man tied to the chair without worrying of his potential escape. So he answered his phone, grabbed a pair of handcuffs, and went as quick as he could to Mimi’s flat.

He appeared outside her posh high-rise building with, yes, the man he’d just been interrogating handcuffed to him and blindfolded ( Simon couldn’t just leave him there, he might escape. Handcuffing him in the car would bring about too much attention so…yes, he had no choice but to bring him in the building ).

Once Mimi finally opened the door he…he was half surprised at how nice she looked ( not because she didn’t normally looked nice ). With her urgent SOS messages, he’d expected…her flat to be a mess? Cuts on her face? Some physical change in her appearance? But there she stood, as beautiful as ever.

“Wh…what was the emergency? What’s going on? Are you alright?”

he had kept her waiting. 

not seconds or minutes, but hours. literal hours. and mimi was rarely ever a so patient or kind when it came to her more immediate whims and needs, an annoyance bubbling and brewing beneath her well manicured exterior the longer she found herself without her summoned party of choice.    

and so when the door flung open and mimi was greeted by the very person she’d been buzzing and fuming over for what seemed like an eternity now, the expectation may have been that she’d whack him across his wonderfully concerned, dumb face. there was a magazine in hand with which to perform said act, in fact, ever tempting her hand.

instead, however, she found herself pausing just as the door came full stop, caught up in a rush of rather sudden and dramatically differing emotions while half dressed in the fluffiest robe imaginable. most apparent among these: she was glad to see him. definitively so. there was an evident wave of relief that struck her very bones at the mere sight of him, something she very much tried to keep from newly made up features for fear they might give her away too eagerly. … on the other hand, he had ignored her. and that was a bigger deal for her than it might have been for most in her shoes. an extreme consideration for her in another, different way.

and as she considered it further, it occurred to her this was not the first time for such an occasion — he seemed to have a way of bringing out such halting tendencies fairly often as of late. far more than she’d ever care for or willingly admit aloud. she’d become overtly aware of every stutter in her heart with him recently, any flush in her cheeks or moment of uncertainty. it was made all the worse by the fact that, by some miraculous fashion, it hadn’t been entirely lost on her buffoon of a brother either. she’d blame the twin thing, honestly. it was always the twin thing. mimi was convinced it could be nothing else.

with all that said, however, a pettiness that seemed to rule over her far more often and apparently had, after so long of her having little to offer, bled to the surface. her irritation, finally, had won out over anything else at present, with her face finally seeming to catch up on which expression to paint on as it shifted accordingly. he wasn’t dead in a ditch. or buried alive. he had given her nothing but silence for far longer than she could stand. she could kill him, now.  

“you goddamn i— “ her first step forward after her period of silence, her first words, aren’t completed as expected, however. another man catches her eye in her peripheral, drawing her gaze. “ .. who the fuck ..?” immediately then, her head snaps from the stranger to the man she actually had every right to be upset with, further fueled by this unneeded surprise. “simon!”

[lvdygrim]

x — MIN:

location: bar in camden town (off premises)

     It was supposed to be that husband of hers turn to pick up their children up from daycare and school respectively, then he would take both her and their son home. However she’d received a frantic text message that he was caught up in a job, she suspected he’d injured himself somehow again, and wouldn’t be able to do so. So she’d had to put a “back in half an hour” sign on the bar, and head out to collect her children herself.      And that’s how it came to be, that the five year old and the two year old took up the entire booth by the bar, colouring utensils spread wide and crumbs from the snacks she’d given them littering the surrounding area. It was inevitable that there would be mess, even her children made everything they touch turn into a bombsite, she blamed it on Han’s genes.      Slowly burning with a quiet rage that she would later take out on her husband, she rounded on the customer who had requested her attention and offered them a cold glare “yes?” she sighed, pinching the bridge of her nose “what can I get for you? Sorry about the” she gestured towards the children, she noticed that Beta was now drawing directly onto her brother in marker pen. Wonderful. “Unavoidable circumstances, they won’t bother you.”

mimi would never quite describe herself as a ‘child’ person. before recent days, she’d never been around them enough to even have a thought for or against them, her life very much the very opposite of what a child should be exposed to. however, she’d been there for the birth of her nephew. the circumstances of beta’s birth had once occurred to her as a practical joke and so she may have purposely missed out of the event entirely. regardless, being there as a vigilant enough bystander did manage to draw something akin to .. vague interest in the small creatures that ruled her brother’s life. most especially when they were running rampant like little chaos monkeys in a spewing rage of gibberish and untidiness, which apparently for their age was all the damn time nearly. mimi never had to clean after them, so it was generally a treat to watch them go. 

like just then, even. with their streaks of giggling madness and mess of markers. so long as they never touched her with their grubby hands she’d be right as rain, observing from a fair enough distance.

“oh, they’re quite alright.” mimi offers the slightest roll of fingers to form a wave of sorts to the children. “wasn’t han supposed to mind them .. or something?” there’s a slight recollection of a conversation with him about something of the kind, at least, though her focus shifts to the bartender thereafter in apparent disregard for the query entirely mere moments later with a full on pout. “well, anyway. minnie, i’ve found myself rather desperate and depressed today, it’s really a whole thing. i think i deserve a bottle or two of your finest whiskey to compensate for this rather miserable state of me.”