#( arc ) small beginnings.

[thiefsluck-blog]

( @goddamnthief didn’t ask for this but... )

                                      HE WATCHES INTENTLY, determined to not mess up once he’s given his chance. But the movements are subtle, and nigh untraceable - so the man wasn’t lying when he said he was GOOD... go figure. Nate isn’t ready to admit that he’s an amateur, though, so it’s time to PROVE he’s not only got talent, but that he’s a good student as well.

     Once Sully returns from executing the LIFT, Nate shrugs and crosses his arms, attempting to appear unimpressed.   ‘That looked easy enough. Tell me who & I’ll get the wallet, same way you did.’

[thiefsluck-blog]

( @holdingstars liked this )

                                                ‘HE’LL BE BACK,’   the boy assures her, hands diving into his pockets as he rocks back and forth from toe to heel. He’s not exactly SURE how to act around her - not sure what to say. Nate can’t help thinking that Sam sure as hell didn’t mean for this to be the way his little brother and his girlfriend finally were introduced. Without him even around... But a life such as theirs is, by definition, UNPREDICTABLE. He must have gotten... held up. Or something. He tells himself he’s not worried, but the unsettling lurching in his gut says otherwise. 

     ‘You, uh... you hungry?’   he shuffles his feet, looking around.   ‘I think we got a few apples around. Somewhere.’

[thiefsluck-blog]

( @sunshinemade liked this )

                                                    THE SUN GLANCES OFF THE ridges of the not-so-far-away mountains and assaults his eyes - but he can’t look away. He can’t remember the last time he saw mountains ( real mountains, at least ) and is fascinated by the terrain he & Sam have found themselves in this time. Moving around isn’t as fun as he had expected it to be. It’s mostly TIRING, and he’d be lying if he said his stomach didn’t spend more time tangled in knots than otherwise. But now his stomach is GURGLING, hoping to get a little bit of food.

     Nathan sits squashed into the corner of a booth in the diner Sam had dropped him at. Sam is looking for work, he’d said. Something to fill up their depleted coffers. The plastic squeaks under his worn-out jeans and, as he pushes down upon the seat with the palms of his hands, it sticks to him and makes movement a little cumbersome.  But it’s CLEAN, and he’s hungry, and the bright lights and colors seem more welcoming than the last place they’d set up camp. A shack. Sam had given him a ragged five dollar bill. He should put it to good use. 

     But he’s not one to OPEN his mouth unprompted in such an unfamiliar environment. So he sits, staring out the window, at the mountains, letting his stomach do the talking for him.

[thiefsluck-blog]

( @foolsgvld )

                                         ‘SO, UH, SAM DIDN’T really fill me in on the details ---’ he begins, his eyes fixated upon the rim of the bottle held lazily in his right hand before he takes another swig. The quiet rumble of the bar creates a cushion of sound that bars their conversation from EAVESDROPPERS - not that Nate is worried about that sort of thing. ‘------ how exactly did you find us? There’s not exactly a yellow pages for treasure hunters specializing in seventeenth-century pirate lore...’

[thiefsluck-blog]

( @pyratescode )

                                                                 HE CAN’T STOP HIS eyes from widening nor his lips from parting, but he manages to hide a bit of his horror at seeing the state of his older brother. Three months on the road and things hadn’t been easy, but even when they’d both been at St. Francis’, Nathan had never seen Sam so banged up. What could he possibly have been doing? He had only been gone for half a day.

     ‘Whoa, hey,’ he says, when he finally snaps himself out of his stupor, anxiety rushing over him like a wave. ‘What the hell happened to you?’ 

[thiefsluck-blog]

( @foolsgvld | x )

                                                                  HIS BREATH COMES heavily, chest heaving, as he half-crouches in readiness to counter any retaliatory attacks. Since Sam had died things hadn’t been the SAME. The joys he’d found in pursuing Avery’s treasure had all but disappeared with his brother, and even though he’d tried to work through the loss by applying himself whole-heartedly to the tasks that required his expertise, he hadn’t been able to focus fully nor well. And slowly but surely, Rafe had been grating against his nerves to a point where Nathan found himself rubbed RAW. 

      He hadn’t walked in expecting the conversation to come to blows, but something Rafe had said, a callous comment his heat-oppressed brain can’t even recall, had pushed him past the point of CONTROL. He’d lashed out - and he doesn’t really regret it.

     ‘Not too late for me to TAKE that way out, is it, Rafe? I’d hate for you to get more bloodstains on those tailored shirts —- ‘ he sneers.

[thiefsluck-blog]

( @spunstories liked )

                                                              ‘YEAH, THAT’S RIGHT,’ he shrugs, trying to sound nonchalant. It’s not as if they hadn’t been to a handful of places that might not be featured on the average fifteen & twenty-year-olds’ travel itineraries. But a lead is a lead. ‘CARTAGENA. It’s in Cartagena, I’m a hundred percent sure. The one in Colombia.’