Smash and Grab

[Malkavia]

Shimmer grasped Angelina’s arm. She sucked in short, shallow breaths full of cold water, pulled, and finally got her free hand a grip on the ridge lining the temple roof’s corner. A few moments later, she scrambled past Angelina, up the roof of the building, then sat with her back to the gable end, boots wedged tight between roof tiles, hugging her knees to her chest.

She stayed that way for what felt like a long time. Underneath her many layers of waterproofing, it would be hard to make out much of the girl. The goggles covered her eyes, her arms covered the rest of her face, and the halo of rain reflecting off her coat obscured the tremble in her shoulders. There was one moment, when Shimmer ducked inside her arms, that she slipped off the goggles and wiped her eyes, but it was past in a flash, pink plastic refixed in its place.

Aight, big breath. Fuck. Fuck fuck fuck. Shimmerlace looked up, not expecting to find Angelina. Her first instinct was that the Marauder must have abandoned her—poof, off she ninja-goes into the mist—but, no. There she was. Why hadn’t she said anything? Pity? Shimmerlace sensed there wouldn’t be a lot of that to spare. Contempt? Fuck.

Biiiiig breath.

“...Well that was… eh...” Shimmerlace stopped. She could already hear the falseness in her voice, and if she could hear it, then the marks in the back could hear it. She sighed, tightened her grip on her legs, and tried again. “I’m real fuckin’ sorry.” She licked her lips, looked down at the tiles. “...If you go climbin’ towers in the rain, ya can’t…it’s not alright to lay an egg in the bed like that. So.” She shrugged, then drew her eyes up, searching for Angie’s through the goggles. “So I’ll do better…Aight?”

[Monsy]

This whole who’s watching who and getting away with the gold would have been resolved so much faster if she let them slip. Once Shimmer got up, she danced on that thought whilst deflating on the corner, collecting herself from the sudden heart-spike. She melted into the roof like a lazy cat underneath the hot sun, with her shirt and skin suctioning into the tile and creating this partial grip as her legs still hugged the ridges. Her cheek laid flat, and she sighed. Come to think, she was excited to see that jump pay off. A wet incline versus the jump. Your David, Shimmer against the Goliath of physics.

Decisions were decisions. She sat up, breathing deep as she rolled her torqued shoulder before making her slow way up, then being stopped to listen. Her head tilted at the gesture, pursing her lips, being scrambled for the right response to a girl who earlier punched you for helping -- now, just lamenting. “Man.” Angelina scratched her cheek, “Ya.” She nodded a couple times, looking elsewhere, “Ya. Ya good.”

She came up the gable’s side to sit a foot or so from Shimmer, one leg straight and the other folded up. “Shit happens and that's just that. Honestly, the worst part wouldn’t have been the fall. Or the fact we would’ve walked all this way for nothin’. Nah, I bet ya some bird watchin’ dork.” She made a frame with her thumbs and index fingers, pointing out towards the botanical gardens they surveyed, then holding that frame to Shim. “Out there -- will look through their fancy binoculars, watch what happened, then boom -- a new book idea.”

[Malkavia]

Ya good. And there sat the so-called marauder—close enough your girl could almost feel her warmth. She allowed Angelina’s smile to creep across the rain and onto her own mug.

“Fuckin’ fowl-gazing cunts.” She breathed between her teeth, shaking her head at these imagined novelists. “Plagiarizing our shtick. Oughtta choke ‘em with their own binocular-fasteners.”

Shimmerlace’s heart steadied and came back to port. She took off her goggles and lifted her face to the rain. The edges of the mask had made dark indentations in the skin and left her eyes feeling tender. Each rain drop hit bright and cold, and her breath was full of petrichor. She felt light enough to curl away on the wind.

It was sublime, it couldn’t last long. She soon felt herself hovering back down onto brick, which was uncomfortably cold on her butt. Her legs started to get tired from holding herself up the roof’s incline. She sighed. The rain began to slow, and as the mist lifted, Tokyo on the skyline began to dominate like the gleaming towers of an unexplored and alien kingdom. “It’s a gorgeous fuckin’ city.”

Shimmerlace pressed her face into her knees, squeezed her thighs, and glanced at the woman to her side. “Angie.” Her voice became thicker, as if her throat had gone tight. “I...” The words she wanted felt stuck, like they were at the bottom of a well. She gave a tug, but the rope went taut. Her mouth hung slightly open. “Um...”

Breathe.

“You can probably guess what I’m fixin’ up to spill, I guess." In, one, two, out, three four. “I’m thinkin’ on Thistledown, o’course.”

The word Thistledown hit the atmosphere like a drop in a pool. Soon the whole shape of their space had changed, gone wobbly and uncertain. She could feel, or imagined she felt, Angelina tense, and the air became thick.

“Er…Thistlebro. I guess.” Her ears burned. A heat gathered in her gut intense enough to be like a physical pain. Her grip on her legs went white-knuckle tight. “Least, ‘til I get ‘em back. Which…I will.” Charlotte swallowed as she glanced at the Marauder beside her. Was that a bridge too far? A statement of intent? Her gaze hardened.

“Anyway. In the meantime.” By now the rain had let up and become little more than a drizzle. Shimmerlace took off her hat and shook her head, which sent her wet ropes of hair tumbling down her back. ”...I really fuckin’ miss him, Angie.”

Even before the words were out, they curdled in Shimmer's mouth. She glared, wrapping up even tighter. ”...I’m not asking for him back. If you try ‘n give him…I’ll punch you. In the side, and I’ll stomp your teeth in while you’re down. I’ll take Thistle back when I good and deserve it—and fuck you if you think I’d say otherwise.” She practically growled the last phrase, then sucked in breath through her nose. Caught herself. Went loose and replaced her hat on her head. ”...I do wanna visit him, though. I wanna hold him. I want him to know his ma’s out here fightin’ for ‘em. And..." As the rain stopped entirely, the heat trapped under Shimmer's coat set in like an oven. Sweat itched as it gathered, then dripped down the small of her back. "I know you aren’t gonna give that for free, so. I brought eh...Well. I got somethin' to trade. Somethin' I bet you'll fancy.”

[Monsy]

She seemed to nick the right vein. One smile turned to two, and the twist of topic carried them further from that last ordeal. She puts her hands on the knee folded up. Her heel got a nice wedge to let herself be limp, slouch, then lay back so she can directly face the rain, but still be able to turn her head, tuck her chin and swivel, soaking in Japan on its natural and traditional face. The clouds over green trees, shiny leaves and urban tops with defiant light breaking through the fog. It might as well have been a window on a city apartment. In both cases, she owned the place.

“Ya.” She replied to Shim, calm, resting her hands behind her back. When the quiet creeped in, there was a steadily growing itch. Bar the one on her stomach, but just waiting for something to be said. Or for someone to break up the party. They weren’t particularly well hidden. Just unreachable.

“Hm?” Angelina shut her eyes by the time her name was called, still smiling along as she got this gut feeling. And aye, Thistledown. Wee pirate Jesus himself and the recent crown jewel. Her head turned to give attention, but she was slow to peek. Not until she said, clearly. Til I get ‘em back. Which… I will. Just the shit she liked hearing. You can almost see her turn smug, but hearing what came after all-but made her head turn straight up again. She took a deep breath, in, then out. The right response seemed to elude her. How to feel was a tennis ball bouncing off the wall, going between one, then two and a half sentiments.

After a pause, still stuck, she resolved to do what Rachel always did when she couldn’t choose her heads and tails, and cracked a small chuckle. “A trade.” She repeated. The rain had all but stopped. The wet felt gunky. More of a slime -- where the rain’s absence uncovered the squeaking and squelches of wet fabric in every little shift. She sat up, one hand on the roof, the other across her gut, groaning just a little. Her hands combed her wet hair back, but it only came back in a much thicker and messier curtain. She sighed, slapping her hands down on her legs. “To tell ya straight. Even if I wanted to give him, I still wouldn’t ever do it. I don’t just let shit go. I can’t. Won’t.” Her hands ran down her legs, over her knees and to her shins. “Ever since the cruise ship, when I look at him, I relive what it was like afta’ the bell. I limped back to my room, caught Thistle hoppin’ on the bed and chewin’ sheets. So I turned on the tunes and just fuckin’ danced. You have seen me take him around, I bet. I don’t hide him. He is as much as mine as he was yours. So if ya really got somethin’ to make me consider this.” She looked at Shimmer, stern and invested. “Let's hear it.”

[Malkavia]

The way Angelina reminisced about Thistlebro made Shimmerlace go unnaturally still. She broke eye contact and stared down the slope of the roof. She let the pause after Angelina finished hang for a count of one, two…Then. "Treasure to trade. Right...” Big breath.

"...Huan Brightspring meets with Young Lioness trainees on Wednesdays from two to six, which she follows usually with dinner out. During those four plus hours, her penthouse home, located at 6-chōme-19-36 in Minato City, should be empty.” The figures rolled out of her confident, clear, and mild, like she was a gaelic-tinged documentarian laying out backdrop before cutting to a dramatic reenactment of some historic discovery.

”The main front-door security is a quickbolt brand deadbolt, which might as well be a friendly we’re open sign. It’s vulnerable to raking, and last time I tried, takes around a second and a half to get it open—”

A twirl of the fingers, a whip with the wrist and…her recitation snagged. A soggy strip of paper pulp “materialized” in Shimmerlace’s hand. It had once been part of a larger sheaf, but it had torn diagonally; the other piece hung like white moss from her sleeve. She stared at it. Blinked, slowly lowered it, and sighed.

”...I had some…Maps, like. Sketched plans. But. Ehm…” She tugged the remaining paper from her sleeve and let the two half rest on her lap. A somewhat melted floorplan seemed once upon a time to have been traced on the page along with notes in the margins now little more than smears.

”Anyway...All’s to say I know a lot. I know about the kinds of animals we’ll probably find inside, which should give a daring excavator pause and which will like as not nuzzle your stranger’s feet. I know where cameras are mounted and where enterprising explorers of urban interiors might park a minivan out of sight. And…” The Feychild held out both her hands and stared at her fingers. The sun peeked from behind the clouds overhead and cast dark shadows from her arms over the tile. ”I know she’s your first stop in your vaunted wee voyage towards Apex gold.”

[Monsy]

Here she’s expecting something around the line of diamonds. Easy treasure to grab and melt. Keeps the ship afloat and you wouldn’t call it weak to satisfy the rabbit demand. Alas. Hearing about Huan was a huff out her nose. She knew the name instantly and had to hold in that cheeky grin as she went on, chaining detail to detail. You don’t expect that from magicians who hide the trick and make it pop.

Whether every detail said was useful or not, she can commend the pitch with an earnest lopsided smile. It gave her pause and she looked down at her lap, then out, wiping her wet face. “Yeah. You called that.” Angelina slowly nodded, chewing on her time. “So. Ya really put this togethah, huh? Got me out here, jumped from a tree and almost ate mad shit -- for a job proposal?” Both arms stretched overhead, making sense of it. She ended up laughing, just briefly. Whether right or wrong on her assumption. It was all just… Great.

“I’m… I’m Impressed.” She crossed her legs, hooking a tooth with a nail whilst mulling it over. “Well. I guess anyone can plan, buy the materials and look at a schedule. It’s safe. There ain’t no consequences until ya pick that deadbolt on that damn door.”

Angelina sucked in, letting her hands fall onto the tiles, then looked at Shimmer, trying to catch her eye. “How can I trust you?”

[Malkavia]

Every word Angelina said at first twisted Shimmerlace like a windup mouse, click click click, until her spools were prone to snap. Her palms were hot against her waterproof tights, and in spite of the rain petering out, she kept needing to wipe them dry against her shins. She’d imagined this encounter a dozen hundred thousand times over the past few weeks, a kind of fantasy fever dream that followed her through the day.

When Angelina laughed, Shimmerlace bit her lip and froze. She didn’t dare let her eye so much as twitch; even breathing felt dangerous. Any interference with the hermetic rite might explode the genie and gut the conjurer. And then—impressed.

She hadn’t been ready for that—for how glittery that word would feel. It glowed in her chest so brightly it scalded her gut as much as it shimmered in her veins. Her face prickled red and her lips parted. Big. Fuckin’. Breath. Cunt. She licked her lips, drummed her fingers along her legs, held it all in as best she could as all the tension of the past thirty seconds slowly uncoiled. It felt like freefall, though part of her wondered when the ground would hit.

Angelina’s question rescued her like a net. Her eyes refocused. She glanced at her, squinted, then shook her head as she gave a wry snort.

”Was that my problem? That I trusted you too much on my stage?” She kept her hold on the Marauder’s look, past the point where it started to sizzle uncomfortably against the back of her head. ”I s’pose some might see it that way. Shitheads, mostly.” The look in Shimmerlace’s eye had gone hard, and she finally let her legs slide down the roof and her hands settle at her sides. She sat with her chest open to her enemy. ”You can trust me because you’re Angelina fuckin’ Tarrant, and if you don’t have what it takes to deal with my curveballs, then you don’t deserve Huan’s gold and you sure as fuck don’t deserve Thistle.”

The words felt good to spit, but they also left an incomplete space that sat uncomfortably in the air. She hadn't answered the question, and they both knew it.

”...All's to say.” She spat in her hand, then offered it to Angelina. ”You promise me. Fuckin' promise me time with Thistle. Then believe you me. I'll sail you to El Dorado and back.”

[Monsy]

Good ol’ Marauder creed is what it wound down to. At least that’s the sell. No matter the circumstance, it’s on you to win and get fucked if you lose. That’s how she took it. Aye, it’s a good truth to nod to. They’re almost words from her own damn mouth. It still left a hole. Above all taglines, there was still the bottom line she wanted drawn and signed.

“El Dorado for a visit.You got ya-self a deal.” Though Rachel held her cleanliness close to her sanity, spit in her hand felt no different than her already soaked palm. So she spat, swung her arm out and clasped with Shimmer’s palm to meet, grip and give this exchange a sign dose of formality. “I promise.” And one more shake for sincerity, Angelina broke it off, turned forward and crossed her arms underneath her chest. Shit felt great. The feeling of an upcoming job was like catching a whiff of gold. A scent strung out by time. The near future. And that put a stiffness in her spine and desire to spring, cartwheel and flip off this rooftop so she can break into a sprint after it. Instead, she settled for clapping her hands together.

“Aight. Wanna split? View is great and all, but I want to change out of this wet shit A. S. A. P.”

[Malkavia]

Getting down from the roof seemed scary at first, but Angelina spied a path down that took just a few easy hops. Sure, Shimmer’s heart still froze as she fell from roof to lower roof, from lower roof to soft dirt—but she landed safe. And glittering.

With the sun out, Shimmerlace stripped off her jacket and hat, leaving her thin white undershirt to cool her as it dried in the afternoon sun. The two talked very little on their way back to the van; Shimmerlace could sense a new focus in Angelina, a steely hunger in her eyes for some point over the horizon. The feychild, too, felt a tug to plan and sketch and start the chase, but with a growing mass of people filling the streets, that shared electricity had to be felt rather than expressed.

The fairy stepped lightly, almost llifting to skip at moments. Her parents had believed it was not right to compliment children. Don’t thank others for doing what they’re supposed to do. Humility, quiet, and obedience were the virtues of the day, and that theme had continued with Madeleine.

Once back in the van, the two exchanged phone numbers, talked floorplans and likely targets. As a multi-millionaire, Huan would have plenty of blunt wealth to grab, but Angelina would thirst for something more personal. Ideas were tossed in the air, like a ball of yarn ping-ponging over two cats. They also ran their fingers over, then felt the edges of the moth-eaten holes in the plan.

”There is one bit I’m not sure about,” Shimmer said from the driver’s seat. She’d picked up steaming dumplings from one of the many outdoor shops on their way through Chofu. Angelina herself had picked up an ice pop. Bright red. The image of the Scarlet Terror lapping at a spring-colored sweet struck Shimmerlace as something bordering on the sunny side of funny, but she kept the sentiment safe in the confines of her garden.

”She’s sure to have some kinda alarm system. Eh, Optex are the guys for the cameras and such, and near as I can tell, they’ll do the door to door stuff as well. But. Not, you know, somethin’ I got a lotta practice with there.” She plopped a dumpling in her mouth. The taste was a rich mix of salty and sweet, redolent with soy sauce. Fuck if this job weren’t worth it for the food alone. ”You got anything there?”

[Monsy]

They’re a couple of soaked Hair done like a soaked mop, dried enough for strands to frizz on the top, visible only when focusing on it. She ended up making a ponytail with her hair along the way back, just so it stopped sticking so relentlessly on her back, keeping it wet under the sun, but also to clear her view, and she pulled the tail over-shoulder and let it go down her chest.

One can say the true test started when they got back to the van. Shimmer talked a mighty proposal on that roof. Wanting to rob was one thing, but a mixed martial artist’s penthouse was legit. The shit inside that place. Who knew? It’s more than just money potential. The shit like their trophies, with their name over the plaque. It’s the watch from your late grandpa. That seventy year old wine, kept in a special case, waiting to be opened. Jewels, gold and antiques. Paintings, statues and memorabilia. The pirate clock ticked for thee.

Gold also looked like red ice pops, racing to finish it just so she could get another. Sweet and flavourful, second only to ice cream with how it sits. She put the whole thing in her mouth once she could, with her teeth pinching the stick, then giving Shimmer this brow-lifting stare like she wasn’t having her senses spasm from a brain freeze. “Fof a alarf syftum--?” One eye winced shut.

She pulled the stick free and she raced to swallow, shivering in her seat with both shoulders and kicking. “Yep! I got s-somethin’--” Said in the midst of brain chills. Her head shook when it passed, letting out a ‘phew’ then, looking to Shimmer, “Or should I say, someone who can help provide that somethin. I take it ya know what a signal jamma is? It’ll keep that shit quiet, so long as the battery doesn’t run out. So when we get inside, we should find that central hub and disable it too, just in case.”

She tapped her cheek with the wet stick. “Anotha’ thing. About the cams and otha buildin residents. If we walked up there, pulled it off and got out, it won’t take too long for those dorksticks to pin-point a fairy and a pirate, ya know? We need to look professional and forgettable. I’m talkin’ black hair wigs, polo shirts with a logo, laminated name tags, tool bag -- the full geeky works. Think ya can get that?”