1x1 CLOSED Penny for a Peony

[MaryGold]

Isobel Laurent

The Wellingtons were not by any means the wealthiest family Isobel swiped from in her long career of "borrowing, but they would certainly be the easiest. The family lacked an abundance of servants to keep their grounds and sleep in the house. The absence of an average count of help made security all the weaker. They were ripe for the picking. The opportunity practically presented itself for her Isobel, and who was she to refuse? Given the state of the city she lived in, money seemed to come and go all too frequently when one wasn't born with a title attached to their name.

Isobel planned as she always did. She had walked by the residence more than once, but never regularly and always in disguise. Unfortunately, her white hair not only caused her a further social disadvantage than others but made her noticeable as well. The disguises kept her a nobody, a regular British woman who happened to be passing by and not at all surveying her next target. And when the right night presented itself, when the family was deep into sleep, and the servants as well, she made her move.

Her white hair was tied neatly into a bun, and she donned in clothing suitable for the occasion. Which meant pants and a dark plain cloak. The rare chance someone woke up, and found her, they wouldn't be able to see her face before she escaped.

Scaling the building was the most difficult part of her pursuit. However, that was why she had surveyed the building before, to find the best way in and back out. There was a balcony, difficult to say to whose room. She had never seen the inside layout of the house. She only ever did that for larger jobs, and commissions, this was for her own personal profit.

Being a ballerina led her to be graceful and stronger for other tasks, and being a thief made trained her to be quiet and suppress the grunts that wanted to leave her mouth through gritted teeth as she climbed. But it was all worth it when she finally pulled herself over the balcony railing and found that the doors were unlocked and the room lights were out. Fortunate. She would pick a lock if she had to, lucky she did not.

Isobel was quiet as a mouse, not scurrying but floating about the room. With nimble fingers, she lit a match to get a better view. The light of the moon could only help so much. Shadows stretched about, but with minimal lighting, it was easy to see it was a woman's room. One of their children's perhaps. She hoped it was one of the more fashionable's sisters' room.

There was really no time to dawdle about, time was always of the essence in these sorts of jobs. She looked about until she found the vanity dresser. Perfect. As respected there were jewels laid in a jewelry box. Inside, there may not have been as many as the more wealthy daughters of Lords had. But enough that Isobel could pick and choose.

@PavellumPendulum

 

[PavellumPendulum]

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EUPHEMIA

It was quiet in the Wellington Manor. Perhaps the night time sky and the gentle hush of the midnight breeze soothed others to sleep, but not Euphemia. When the moon was out, her mind liked to wander. Truthfully, so would she, if she knew that she would not be forced to remain in her room until the end of time if she were to be caught. Normally, she did not care too much if an action wasn't very traditional for a young woman like her, but the dangers of sauntering out under the milky light of the moon and stars far outweighed any desire she had to go exploring.

So, she laid in her bed, staring up at the ceiling and counting the grooves in the intricately done detailing, the darkness encroaching on her vision and making it difficult to focus. Her ginger hair remained splayed around her, the warmth of her luxurious sheets cocooning her, attempting to lull her into actually getting some rest...

Except she could not, when she heard the door to her balcony unlatch.

Without even thinking, she let her eyes flutter shut, as though she were a child that had been caught past her bedtime. Her heartbeat travelled from her chest up into her throat, setting her pulse into a quicker rhythm. She could hear the faintest shuffling and movement, but it was almost inaudible with how subtle it was. Who was there?

She didn't dare open her eyes at first, thinking. One of her sisters? Surely they would not have climbed up to her balcony, even if just to frighten her. One of the servants? They wouldn't dare, they wouldn't dream of it. It wasn't as though she would have them punished terribly for something so funny, but none of them seemed to lack this much common sense. Furtively, she let one eye open by only a smidge, lashes still laid low in an attempt to not be seen. This intruder could be dangerous, yes? She wondered what she would do if they attacked her.

Bathed in the slightest glow of moonlight, warmed by the glimmer of a singular match, Euphemia could just barely see the woman bent over her vanity, carefully picking through her belongings with the deft, efficient hands of someone who had done this before. A thief.

Euphemia watched, silently, wondering how long this lady would peruse her things. Her hair looked almost silver in the light, pulled into a tight bun, the rest of her figure obscured by her cloak.

Eventually, Euphie lost her patience.

She sat up, staring. Her idea of a brave face was one that was as placid and nearly empty as usual, even with her heartbeat racing with each moment. "Have you found anything you like yet? I'm quite fond of the pearl brooch myself." Her voice was softened by the comfort of her bed, her hair falling over her shoulders, nightgown smooth around her bust.

code by wren.

 

[MaryGold]

Isobel Laurent

The voice was small but it was crystal clear in the dead of the night with a room of just two. Isobel froze. She had been caught, and she hadn't been caught in years. She had been reckless. She should have checked the sleeping figure first -- well it was clear to her now she was not sleeping at all. Her comment toward her made that obvious enough.

On instinct alone, Isobel reached for the knife strapped to her ankle. It was small and didn't have much reach. Which meant that it would only be used if the young woman came too close. And Isobel would not hesitate to protect herself at any cause. The streets of London and Paris taught her never to never pause, any delay could lead to life or death in a split second. but lacing over to the girl from the corners of her eyes, Isobel seriously doubted that this woman would pose any threat. She looked as if the wind blowing would knock her over. But one could never be too safe..

Isobel pulled on her hood, pulling it over her head. The Wellington girl had seen her, but it was still dark. She couldn't possibly have seen too much. There was no point in letting panic take control of her. That was how stupid people got caught.

"Perhaps because it matches you so well with such red hair," Isobel moved further into the shadows, or as far as she could, Her bottom hit the wood of the vanity behind her, and from there she remained still. "I don't think it would look as good on me. Do you have anything with sapphires?" Conversation, she could provide it, bring the woman's guard down and escape as soon as she did.

 

[PavellumPendulum]

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EUPHEMIA

Even when reaching into her cloak, potentially to draw out a weapon or any other manner of dangerous object, Euphie could see elegance radiating from the intruder in her room. Even when one has trained their entire life to mask who they are, the body often finds it difficult to lie. When the mouth works in tandem with the vocal cords to speak against the truth, even while one postures, the way that they move still leaks through the barrier. Euphie considered this to be the soul, begging to be seen against one's will. I am here, I am here, she could hear it sing, every time she did body studies.

She was so careful, so cautious after her head had cracked towards her at near breakneck speed, but her body did not lie. There was grace in the way that her pale skin stretched taut over her muscles, even when most of it was obscured. Unfortunately for Euphie, the stranger pulled up her hood, hiding away those tantalizingly silver locks, as if the tears of their lonesome moon were mean to be obscured in the darkness.

Euphemia heard the shuffle of her legs, her back hitting the vanity and making her things settled atop it and within rattle quietly. A faint sigh left her lips, almost the ghost of a laugh.

"I haven't a single brooch that would match with your cloak, o mysterious daughter of the moon." she waxed poetic, drawing on the books tucked away in her father's library, ones that were less academic and more pursuits of beauty put to words. "Take the pearl brooch. It would fetch a pretty price, I'm sure. In exchange, your name, please."

In all honesty, the stranger could easily step forward and attempt to kill her now. Even a scream ringing from her room would take more than a few precious seconds for the others in the manor to respond to, so she could be dead within the moment, her vanity's coffers raided and emptied, but... Something brave within her, the part that faced art, the part that drew out the soul and laid it upon the canvas, ah, it was nothing that she could stifle so easily.

code by wren.

 

[MaryGold]

Isobel Laurent

There was a number of less than flattering things said about the Wellington's, most of what's been said by the Lambert's in roots. Weasels, red-haired weasels, ill-mannered, and below par. But having met one of her own now, in her very room during the dead of night, Isobel would describe this one as ... odd. But then, the wealthy did have strange personalities and habits when compared with those of the impoverished and poor.

A little breath fell from Isobel's lips. Fear was replaced with something more dangerous. Curiosity.

There were a number of questions that Isobel could have asked the young lady. Or more responsibly, she could have left through the balcony without another word. She would have been good, swallowed by the shadows of the alleys before the woman could alert a single person within the house. But she did neither the more dangerous thing nor the more responsible thing.

The thief had been caught, but not without an interesting encounter. "That would be rather counterproductive of me. Leaving my name with the one I am stealing from?" Isobel sat back against the vanity, her shoulders growing less taunt and more relaxed. Mindlessly, she rolled the brooch in her hands over her knuckles. "I'll give you a name only you'll know me by instead. Belle."

 

[PavellumPendulum]

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EUPHEMIA

Perhaps it'd been silly of her to even ask. If she dared to tell any of her siblings later, which she contemplated doing in that moment, they would surely either shriek with laughter or lecture her with exasperation in their eyes for her behaviour. Still, she couldn't help herself. Even if this mystery woman lied to her, Euphemia knew that she would hold her answer close to her, tucked away against her chest like a special secret only meant for her knowledge. A name was all she wanted.

Surprisingly, instead of brandishing a weapon or slipping away, the thief humoured her. Euphie could see the faint glint of the moonlight against her pearl brooch, in and out of her vision as it was rolled expertly along the woman's pale knuckles.

"Belle." Euphemia echoed, accepting the name like it was a precious gift given to her in the dead of the night, warmth pooling into her voice. "Belle..." The redhead trailed off, "I do hope you come again soon. You look lovely, even when hidden away from the moonlight." And in an act of trust, she settled back into her bed, plush mattress shifting silently to accommodate her weight. Even more vulnerable now, she closed her eyes, sighing softly.

"Now, off with you. It would be in bad taste for you to leave with my prying eyes on your back. Enjoy the brooch."

code by wren.