Gilbert of the Road
Wanderer
'Cause when pushing comes to shove, money conquers faith and love.
Posts: 8 
Race: Mundane
Primary Class: Rogue
Primary Level: 1
Soul Points: 117
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Post by Gilbert of the Road on May 27, 2014 1:52:13 GMT 1
Eight long years. Eight years since Gil could remember having a real home, and six since he had hollowed out a home within his own skin.
He had been Gilbert of the Road for a long, long time, and since then he had been on the move, pretty much constantly. And as much as Palandrion had never been a home for Gil, it eas as close as he'd gotten in years.
After a big heist, Gil often found himself here, walking the streets ndnlosing himself in the not-quite-familiarity. It was hard to remember yourself as a person when you'd been a show for so long, and it took long walks in loud places before Gil felt whole again. Today was no exception, and Gil moved through the crowd like it was all choreographed, looking out for any familiar face or captivating pleasure.
It had been a long time on the road, this time around, with Gil pulling job after job as he retraced his steps back to this place. He planned to work himself closely across the city, stopping here and there and everywhere that caught his attention. Gil planned on losing himself- And he wasn't quite sure if he wanted to be found again.
He wasn't quite sure how long it had been. Gil had been shuffling along with the crowd, paying for things and trading them away through his fog of apathy, following snippets of music and song until he found a new thread to travel.
That's what he was doing when it happened. Staring, blank-faced, at the crowd before him, like a body reanimated and never given a purpose. Gil caught the wrist of the hand reaching for his purse on pure instinct, and he held it, gripped tight, until his brain caught on to what was going on around him.
"What," Gilbert said as he slipped back into the tried and true character of the charming highwayman. "Do you think you're doing?"
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Indi Willows
Wanderer
My ghost, where'd you go?
Posts: 13 
Race: Mundane
Primary Class: Rogue
Primary Level: 1
Soul Points: 73
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Post by Indi Willows on May 27, 2014 3:07:59 GMT 1
"I was just admiring the handy work of your coin purse. The stitching is perfect." The lie came easy to her as she withdrew her hand to drop to her side. Indi smiled, "Sorry. Sometimes I forget I'm not allowed to touch every pretty thing," she said, waving a hand to emphasize her point. It's not like she was never caught before, those things happened when you're raised to pickpocket. But it just hasn't happened in so long that she had nearly panicked. She adopted the pleasant city girl persona and curtsied before stepping aside and letting herself get lost in the people again.
Indi didn't do well with failing. When failing happened, when she didn't make quite enough money, the leaders, if you could even call them that, didn't take to kindly to that. And Indi didn't take kindly to that. She had to make a few more coin that day to be able- No, allowed to eat. Being the youngest of the bandits meant that she had certain things limited, was last to eat, and first to pay up. 'It's a life lesson, my dear, It's only fair since we rescued you' she'd grown up hearing repeatedly. But what happened to her when she didn't have enough for her 'fair share'? Hunger was the least of her worries.
Ducking in to the shadows to hide from anyone who'd pay attention to her, she perched on a crate and pulled out the one steal today that she wouldn't share. Sure, it was only an apple, but it would prove to be the only thing she assumed she'd be eating that day.
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Gilbert of the Road
Wanderer
'Cause when pushing comes to shove, money conquers faith and love.
Posts: 8
Race: Mundane
Primary Class: Rogue
Primary Level: 1
Soul Points: 117
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Post by Gilbert of the Road on May 29, 2014 17:54:50 GMT 1
Gilbert tilted his head at the small slip of a girl, trying hard not to look like he was sizing her up too closely. It was odd for him to come up against another thief under any situation but brotherhood, and for someone to attempt to rob him- Well, he was curious, to say the least. "Uh huh," Gilbert hummed, noncommittally, as she lied through her teeth. A lie he might have believed, if he hadn't been a pickpocket himself, not so many moons ago. If he was looking for it, he could see the lie hanging in the corners of her eyes, hanging there like a broken kite. "I was just admiring the handy work of your coin purse. The stitching is perfect." The lie came easy to her as she withdrew her hand to drop to her side. "No need to apologize. There was no harm done," Gilbert said, calming the too-sharp smile that wanted to slash its way across his face. She thought him a rich young man, apparently, and there was no need to break her of the illusion. But before he could continue the conversation and find out more about the little thief bold enough to rob from him, she was scurrying away, fading into the crowd.
Well. It wasn't as if Gil hadn't tracked slier quarry.
Following her was easy only because she didn't expect it, Gil figured. No one had ever suspected her, maybe, or perhaps she just thought him especially stupid. The thing was, though, that if Gil could follow her through a crowd as thick as this, then so could a guard, who had been trained for his sort of thing. The thought sent an annoyed prickle down his spine- He didn't like the idea of any living being hunted down like a dog... Even though a few of the thieves he had worked with before had been decidedly canine, yes.
Gil found her in an alley, chomping on what looked like a particularly wormy apple, and his heart wrenched in his chest. He remembered waking up hungry and alone more days than not, and if you couldn't have a brother and a home, well, money was certainly enough to dull the ache. Sighing, Gil dropped the mask of both the rich merchant's son and Gilbert of the Road, returning simply to himself as he stepped into the opening of the alley. "Here," he said in greeting, untying the purse from his belt and tossing it to her without warning. "If you had selected your prey better, you would have earned at least that much today, and Pa'landri knows I can always get more." Gil didn't move further in, knowing what it was like to feel like a cornered animal without a weapon to your name. He just leaned against the wall, getting comfortable. "Of course, might I suggest a change in position? You give too much away in your face to work in subterfuge, and, besides- Pretty ones like us aren't good in crowd work. Too easily remembered, you know."
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Indi Willows
Wanderer
My ghost, where'd you go?
Posts: 13
Race: Mundane
Primary Class: Rogue
Primary Level: 1
Soul Points: 73
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Post by Indi Willows on May 29, 2014 18:35:20 GMT 1
Indi had froze when she heard movements before telling herself to relax and that she was only a girl enjoying a snack, as unsavory as it was. She didn't move nor did she take her eyes off of him. He knew, of course he did. She was in the middle of a long line of of bad luck and I'll consequences that still made her shoulders stiff. The voice of the woman she'd call mother only when she was sick rang in her head and it made her shudder. But yet she didn't take the coin purse. Pride had gotten in the way. "That does me no good. Only will further to better some others over me." She didn't like making an excess of money, not after she realized that she'd only keep a coin or two at best, and everything else went to stuff the greedy pockets of her elders. "Might I suggest you keep to your own business. You know not of how others work and live." Indi shook her head and tossed the apple core before she jumped off from where she was sitting and dusted her dress off. "Maybe I'll go show some skin to a lecher and earn my gold."
She didn't want help, didn't need handouts and sad smiles. This was something she had done her entire life prior, and saw no change in her future. This man, whomever he may prove to be, was nothing to her. She should have sized him up better, should have done this, and should have done that. Her entire life was full of should haves and Indi only showed to take the easy paths. The quick and easy winnings, doesn't matter if it was good to not because she got it and it was hers.
"Besides,"she said, sliding up to him with a smirk, "us pretty ones aren't good for much besides something to look at and sighs," but her sly smile dropped before she spoke again, "Take your pouch. I can only say I'll be smarter next time. There is nothing more to be done." Indi backed away quickly though, pressing herself in to the shadows because she could swear she saw a familiar face of one of the men she traveled with. One of the faces she'd avoid when she'd find herself arriving back at camp late at night with his wandering fists and liquored breath. A man who made her not trust the actions of others and made her suddenly wary of being in the presence of the other, in a seemingly casual conversation. "I'll forget your face, if you forget mine."
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Gilbert of the Road
Wanderer
'Cause when pushing comes to shove, money conquers faith and love.
Posts: 8
Race: Mundane
Primary Class: Rogue
Primary Level: 1
Soul Points: 117
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Post by Gilbert of the Road on May 29, 2014 19:32:47 GMT 1
Gil felt the very strong urge to kick something, thanks to the girl's obvious stubbornness. Even at his angriest, Gil had known better than to pass up free coin or food. Even more frustrating was the life that the word held inside them- This girl was being controlled by someone, obviously not a guild or even a gang, judging by how their stupidity sang free and clear through their obvious ill treatment of those who worked for them. George and Gilly had never fallen so low as to join one of those shadowy groups, but after years in the business, Gil knew them well enough to taste the bitterness of their filth in his mouth. "So don't tell them. Lie, if you have to," Gil said. "You're obviously good at it."
Even after she, very nicely, told him to go shove it somewhere tight, Gil couldn't keep the words to himself. Maybe he had been too long alone, he thought, even as they kept pouring. "This is my business. It is very much my business," Gil said, rather boldly. It was true that he was well-known in the underworld, but he was hardly a Master. "Because I am in the business of making money, and to see talent like yours wasted and abused is..." Gil shut his eyes and shook his head, reminded very suddenly of his brother.
It was easy not to flinch when she brought up the idea of prostitution- After all, eight years was a long, long time, and prostitutes were better allies than most 'honest' citizens could ever dream. Anything could be stolen while it's owners were in the throes of passion, including information. So, yes, Gil was very familiar with what it took to raise a few coin down that path, and his face stayed still and unimpressed when she threw it in his face. "Maybe it wouldn't be a better life, but at least your coin would be your own."
The urge to roll his eyes was too strong to resist, Gil found. "Oh, Pa'landri take you, child. That's the stupidest thing I've ever heard. Has no one ever told you...?" Gil drifted off, realizing that no, no, they very well hadn't. No one had ever told her how a pretty face could be your weapon, how a kind of word and a smile could give you all the riches you could ever dream of, as long as you were smart. No one had bothered to tell her, just like no one had bothered to tell him. It was a noble's way of thinking, and they were both anything but. Gil sighed, taking his pouch back with resigned fingers. "There is always something to be done," he said, sullenly, openly sulking over the turn this conversation had taken.
The girl darted back into the shadows, offering her silence for his, he supposed, and Gil tilted his head, amused by her assumption. "And why would I want you to do that? My face is my coin, love, just as sure as my skill is."
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Indi Willows
Wanderer
My ghost, where'd you go?
Posts: 13
Race: Mundane
Primary Class: Rogue
Primary Level: 1
Soul Points: 73
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Post by Indi Willows on May 29, 2014 21:01:26 GMT 1
"It's hard to lie to a master when you're only a fly, sir," she huffed out a breath and started to pick at her nails. She didn't like to think of how she was treated, how she was raised because it was all she knew. And she was so thankful to them for finding her instead of just leaving her to be taken by the earth. Late at night, she'd find herself wishing that Pa'landri would swoop down from the heavens and just finish what the world had started but she never got that lucky. The blonde would wake up and stretch out and pray, for what she was never quite sure of. "Sweet words but obviously I'm not and I've a lot to learn if you've managed to follow me here. Perhaps I should work on blending in and being invisible." It was already easy enough to be forgotten, but Indi never thought very highly of herself to begin with. She'd have empowering blasts of self-confidence that were more often than not, quickly dismantled by her fellows.
Her jaw stiffen as he spoke, but she listened. Strained her ears to hear every last word. But she still replied, vaguely belligerent. "It's not your business. If you take pity on such a girl as me then I take pity on you for even taking notice in the first place. I know my place, and while I don't agree, I don't fight. Because it's mine. And I'm hardly abused," she said, sounding stuck up, covering up the crack in her voice. It was home. You never turn away from home and those who would, usually, protect you. Unless it was easier to get away without you. "My coin is my own and I chose to let the choice of how it's spent be not handled by me." She'd been conditioned to react like this when her upbringing was mentioned, Indi knew what was expected of her and how to react and it had gotten to the point where she wasn't even sure if that actually was lying anymore.
"Clearly it's not the stupidest thing you've ever heard because you must have heard your voice once in a while. The Gods blessed me in not having to listen to mine. And I'm not a child," she said childishly, as if almost to prove a point. "Grow up like this and you're a child for all of but a day before someone puts you to good use." She didn't make money by smiling, or giggling. She made money with quick hands with gold, and a rough hand at her neck with a weepy voice talking about her faults and how she would never manage to find a good husband and they needed the coin because she wasn't bound to anything good with a curse such as hers. A coy smile and a vacant stare typically meant someone took pity on her and would shove extra coin or bread in to her hands.
She leaned back up against the wall, staring at him, her face blank and emotionless. "Just forget everything. I apologize and after this day you'll never see of me, or hear of me again. And it'll do you well to never speak of me either."
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Gilbert of the Road
Wanderer
'Cause when pushing comes to shove, money conquers faith and love.
Posts: 8
Race: Mundane
Primary Class: Rogue
Primary Level: 1
Soul Points: 117
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Post by Gilbert of the Road on Jun 21, 2014 21:37:36 GMT 1
Gilbert snorted, unimpressed with the girl's 'master' and his supposed powers. As far as he knew, there was no true Master Thief in Palandri just yet, and even if there were- Master Thieves had their flaws just as any other human. "I think you're giving them far too much credit, friend," Gilbert said. "I think you'll find that our leaders are usually so assured in their own brilliance that they'll quite believe anything that supports their theory." Gilbert wrinkled his nose at her own self-review. No no no, that would never do. She was already so faded, watching her turn even more inward would do little but make Gilbert feel like shit. "No, that's ridiculous. Are you joking? Please. The idea that sneaking is the way to make money is so completely- I don't even think we have a word for it. I'm telling you, the future is in having enough to skill to take from people who know you're after them. Besides, the show is usually distracting enough that-" He stalled. She hardly needed an entire lesson in being a highwayman, if she was so set on being a pickpocket. Switching directions, he made his voice softer, more plying, almost like he was begging her to reconsider. "Forgive me, miss. I only meant that there is more than one way to live, even in an orphan's world. Most of us are thieves or beggars, but there is a third option. There is."
"I take pity on any soul that doesn't know it's own value," Gilbert bit back, voice rougher than he had meant to be. "Even more on those with potential to do better." Perhaps Gilbert was taking it all to seriously, seeing himself in a scared orphan who hadn't found their way. It was time to walk away, he told himself, before his heart really got caught up in convincing this girl that she deserved more than whatever 'guild' has manipulated her into being this nonsense-spouting sycophant. "They're not above you because they're smarter than you, child," Gilbert said, and something deep in his chest shifted painfully, like he was telling hard truths to himself. "And it's certainly not because they're more talented. It's because they had the balls to stand up and say that they were in charge. If you did the same..." Well, if she did the same to an entire group, there was a very real chance that this slip of a girl would end up dead, dirty and unmourned, so Gil shook his head and started over. "They will run you this way until you are dead, or they will realize that you're better than them and leave you without a second thought. It is... It is the way of the world." No one had ever bothered to tell Gilbert this. He figured it out himself, sure enough, next to a stone-cold fire in a deep and dark forest. Maybe it was unfair in the eyes of the universe to warn her when he himself had not been warned, but he remembered feeling young and lost, and would not wish it on another person for all the gold in the world.
"Funny," Gilbert said, sarcastically, but his lips twitched all the same. Some people couldn't mock their own afflictions, but this girl's strident tone held nothing but pride and anger at everyone, including herself. Anything he saw of himself in her melted away; He hid his flaws like vulnerable wounds. Gilbert never forgot them, but he protected them with defensive ferocity, so different from her aggressive approach. This girl used her wounds as weapons. "I am more than aware," Gilbert muttered, the smile falling from his face. "But no one said you have to grow up this way. Not... Not with them."
Gilbert huffed, more than done with this whirring, dizzying parody of a conversation. "At least give me your name, before you go," Gilbert said, stumbling over his words in his haste. "And I'll give you mine. I'd rather have us part as friends than strangers. Children of the road could always use more friends."
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Indi Willows
Wanderer
My ghost, where'd you go?
Posts: 13
Race: Mundane
Primary Class: Rogue
Primary Level: 1
Soul Points: 73
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Post by Indi Willows on Jun 21, 2014 22:17:35 GMT 1
"I give credit where credit is due. They saved me from a fate far worse than being cornered in a side street by a man who sees first hand my failure," she spoke lightly, and tossed a loose tendril of hair over her shoulder, to tuck back in to the plait later. There was this sinking feeling in her stomach, something that built and grew and even though she was raised around these men and woman who breathed dark deeds, she'd never felt welcome with them. Indi was an outlier to outliers. She grew up cursed in as many ways as they had told her, but nothing felt more cursed to her than them. "I am not an orphan. I'm born of the world," Indi stepped closer, stepping within reach before lowering her voice to snarl, "And you'll do good to remember that I am no begger. I am not that low."
The girl would jump in to fire before she'd even let herself get to that. Indi would do a lot of things, things that would risk her life and sanity, but she could never see herself standing at a street corner to do something. She'd let herself be dragged along with Maerwynn when she'd beg, but Indi would merely take a passive role and just look as dreadful as she could.
When he spoke softly, she had to strain and focus to read his lips in the dim alley, but her attention only ran so long before she'd shake her head and huff out a sigh. "You speak like you think I have a choice. I don't. They could have done right by the world and left me to rot in the woods but they took me on," Indi faltered and continued to speak on like it was ingrained on the stone behind his head, "They took me on and took the burden of raising a lost soul like me when the shifters could have taken me for prey. So be it. Let them run me until I'm dead, let someone get some use out of me. Someone has to have a soul to know their worth, do they not?" Indi stopped, and shuffled back a few feet before she crossed her arms over her chest in defense. "You speak like you know me, you speak like you think that I have the power to change. But not everyone is like that. This is-" She let out a noise that was a combination of a failed laugh and a cry, "This is my life. It's mine and I don't have many things that are that. I had no choice but to grow up like this. There is very little potential I have that isn't already used up in my face."
There were no secrets with her, everything she was she wore plain as the day on her sleeves. She was the first to admit that she was hot-headed and emotional, and so very weak. And the last to notice that she was quick on her feet and smart, if she was ever taught to give herself a chance.
But she never was, she was treated and pulled along like an animal who didn't know any better. Depending on who in the camp would be asked about her, that's what they would compare her to. Someone who just barely carried in their weight.
"There's not a name I have that is mine alone to give you. Friends are not something to be sought out like pretty stones tossed from the sea."
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Gilbert of the Road
Wanderer
'Cause when pushing comes to shove, money conquers faith and love.
Posts: 8
Race: Mundane
Primary Class: Rogue
Primary Level: 1
Soul Points: 117
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Post by Gilbert of the Road on Jun 21, 2014 23:36:53 GMT 1
It seemed there was nary a thing he could without offending her one way or another. Even his gentlest words inspired yet another spark of hatred in her eyes, and Gilbert drew back finally, at a loss for another direction. It seemed he had exhausted every alley of conversation, to no avail. Even worse, she had turned half of it back on him, making him seem like both an attacker and a judge. It left a bitter taste in his mouth; Gilbert had never much liked battles of wit, usually relying on his charm or stealth to get him where he needed to be. This was completely out of his depth, and the more she said, the more Gilbert hunched in on himself. It was merely habit, one he thought he'd pushed out of his muscles long, long ago, but had lingered, deep in his heart. He felt like a child again, silly little Gilly, being scolded by anyone who could find sufficient reason to do so. As she stepped closer, Gilbert stumbled back, unwilling to put himself in her grasp. He probably looked ridiculous, a nearly grown man running away from a little girl, but his brain had reached the end of his ropes, and all he had left to fall back on was the steady beat of no, no, no, run, run, run that pumped through his heart. In his gloves, his fingers curled in fear.
"I am sorry," Gilbert managed to grunt out, keeping his voice steady. It would not do for her to realize how shaken she had made him, for she was still hungry and desperate, and as much as Gil wanted to save this girl, he did not trust her. "It seems that I-" There was no way for him to be polite even about his own mistakes, it seemed. The only options sounded more like insults than apologies, but lying would be an insult as well, and not one she had deserved. "It seems I have not yet grown out of the habit of seeing things in people that I would wish in them, not what they really carry in their hearts. Thank you for the lesson. It has been too long since I have spoken to someone with such candor, and I-" Gilbert growled, low and nearly inaudible. He was babbling like a lonely babe, now, desperate to draw the conversation out even as he was running out of words that would mean anything but his humiliation. No, this girl would not see Gilbert's desperation today; His heart was to be saved for those with some kind of understanding, and he would not find that here.
"As you have proven," Gilbert said, not really agreeing as much as merely acknowledging her frank wish to be alone. In a moment of pure spite, Gilbert bowed the same mocking low bow that he performed for the lords and ladies he preyed on before he spirited away with their precious belongings. "You have taught me many valuable lessons today, Miss Thief, and I am indebted to you." Finally standing, he gave her a short nod, reminiscent of a hat tilt. "Should you ever decide you do deserve better, you can call on me. Gilbert of the Road is the name," Gilbert said, deciding that a girl who had been so strangely sheltered would not know the weight the name carried. "Give it at the bar on the end of Cullers Street, and they'll find me for you. Or feed you, at least." He smiled again, strained though it was. "Goodday, Miss Thief. It was rather nice to meet you."
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Indi Willows
Wanderer
My ghost, where'd you go?
Posts: 13
Race: Mundane
Primary Class: Rogue
Primary Level: 1
Soul Points: 73
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Post by Indi Willows on Jun 22, 2014 0:51:59 GMT 1
She had names that they'd call her. Words grunted out likes curses and names forgotten like dreams. But nothing that felt truly hers. They'd tell her stories, at least when they had enough ale in their systems to let them out, but she was found loosely wrapped, like whomever had left her behind didn't really care what happened to her, and without any sort of identification, just a scar on her shoulder and a scrap of fabric at the bottom of her rucksack. It was barely anything, but she was happy it was something. But this man, this man who had no reason to think she was anything except a dirty girl, tried telling her she was anything but. The one person in the world who saw something else inside of her was the one person she kept running her mouth to. And she flinched at his reactions. He was speaking too low for her to pick anything up, not that she would really be able to comprehend it right now anyways.
"I'm sorry," she said softly, the strand from before falling again and she quickly wound a finger in it. "I come off as rude and I am sorry. I know you mean well enough." The girl was closer to harmless than she was anything else, and had only spilled the blood of one man in her entire life. And that was purely out of panic when he grabbed at her hair. "I don't know anyone of my own age and I forget sometimes and some people were actually raised with manners." She shook her head, shaking off some memory, some feeling before tucking back the hair for good. It almost pained her to speak, but she continued on with a muttered, "Thank you." She didn't know why she had even said that, didn't know why she let him get to her like that. Indi was nothing, especially to him.
"Indi," she blurted out, before continuing like she was in a far off land, "They told me they found me in the willows. Indi Willows," she cracked a smile that quickly broke down. "Which feels like a lie considering I was also told I was found in Thorion Country and willows can't possibly grow there. Nothing grows there." She didn't think she'd ever have to remember the name, but for the moment it was committed to memory. The blonde nodded back. "Goodbye," she responded with a curtsy, "I wish you well," but with that, she had turned around and ran off.
---
Maybe running back like her feet were on fire back to the camp was a bad idea. She could claim insanity, perhaps even brain damaged with prior events that would regularly happen with the bandits. But there was nothing more for her to do. She didn't want to interact with anyone but her first mistake was going back to camp. Maerwynn, in all her crony glory, had laid a hand over her heart and acted like the idea that Indi came back nearly empty handed. But the men... well, they took less kindly to that. Her face had stung and was tender, and her chest burned as she stuffed her bag full of everything she owned to hastily run to anywhere in the city.
Her feet had led her exactly where Gilbert had told her and she hated herself for letting it happen.
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