Faust shifted in his seat awkwardly, the pain in his groin still bothering him. He didn't appreciate being dragged through town by the ear, but this older blonde woman didn't give him much of a choice. One thing was for sure, there was no way he'd have the guts to show his face around town after the scene he had made.
He couldn’t believe he had let himself fall into this situation, being scolded like a little child by a woman he didn’t even know. She lectured them about the trouble they had caused, but being someone who relied on thievery just to survive, he had gotten used to putting his conscience to the side. However, he somehow found himself bothered by the woman’s words. He wasn’t sure exactly what it was, but something about the way she sternly looked and spoke to them caused some strange feelings to stir within him. He found himself slightly cowering in his seat, and looking across the table, he could see the younger girl doing the same.
Eventually, the older woman’s lecture ended, and he continued to stare down at the worn wooden table in silence. Since it seemed like he wasn’t going anywhere any time soon, Faust took a moment to observe his surroundings. He didn't see anything too remarkable, but then again, he didn't expect much from an orphanage. Faust had to admit, though, this place was definitely a step up in comparison to the dank basement he had been squatting in. Other than a few cupboards and some cracks on the walls, there wasn't really much to look at, and eventually his gaze fell back on his captors.
Faust had hoped to keep quiet, but sitting silently in this unfamiliar place was bugging him. "Hey, kid...." He started to say. "Listen, I'm-..... I'm sorry"
He once again started shifting awkwardly in his seat, but now it was no longer from pain. The art of apologies was unknown to Faust. “It really wasn’t anything personal. Just trying to make a living, you know?”
Saturday, July 23, 2011
(7) The Aftermath
After the whole panic in the streets settled, sanity seemed to catch up with everyone. Marie somehow caught up to them--probably by following the trail of property damage and victims of the two's mad dash through town--and pulled them both by the ear toward the orphanage, where she sat them down in the kitchen all proper on opposite sides of the table. Marie stood at the head of the table with a kitchen knife and a glower. She'd started cooking for dinner, hungry kids after all.
"You two... do you realize how much trouble you've caused for everyone?" Marie's face was strict and somewhat terrifying to Mercy, even though she'd seen it many times throughout her life. "We'll settle this like rational, understanding people."
Mercy shrank in her seat.
"You two... do you realize how much trouble you've caused for everyone?" Marie's face was strict and somewhat terrifying to Mercy, even though she'd seen it many times throughout her life. "We'll settle this like rational, understanding people."
Mercy shrank in her seat.
Thursday, July 21, 2011
(6) Reversal of fortune
At first, Faust found himself cursing the gods for bestowing such speed on his victim, but now he could hardly find the breath to curse at all. His speedy escape was proving to be anything but quick. That brunette had been on his tail for over a few minutes now, drawing closer to him every second. He had long since abandoned the busy market road, choosing to use the back alleys he called home as his escape route. Though the network of paths between decrepit buildings could be confusing to navigate, Faust felt he knew this section of town like the back of his hand, or at least that’s what he had thought.
The soreness in his feet served as a reminder of his errors. Despite his familiarity with the area, he had never been forced to run through it before. He found his memory unable to keep up with the rate at which they ran. Notable features, such as doorways and graffiti, barely had time to register in his mind as he flew by them. The tall, run-down buildings all began to look the same.
“Damn, that corner was….” Faust muttered as he mistakenly passed yet another useful path. Glancing over his shoulder, he could still see the girl a short distance away.
“Give it up already! You’ve got no chance, kid!” He yelled, hoping she’d hear and lose hope, but it proved pointless. She simply kept scurrying after him, a mixed expression of hatred and despair adorning her face.
His thoughts wandered for a moment. He couldn’t help but wonder why she felt so passionately about retrieving her bag. Of course, none of this victims liked being robbed, but at a certain point they all gave in and accepted their fate. However, this girl, whoever she was, acted as if her life depended on the pack’s contents. “You know, I almost find your determination admirable….in a really irritating kind of way.” He shouted back at her.
A sudden twinge of pain brought Faust’s attention back to what he was doing. Chancing a quick look downward, he could see the fragments of an old wooden crate strewn alongside the dirt path, a shard of which had embedded itself in his foot. Faust had thought he couldn’t find anything else to regret about that day, but he had just found evidence to the contrary. He was absolutely regretting his barefoot lifestyle as he limped along. Shoes had always seemed like an unnecessary expense, but at that moment, he had to admit he would’ve willing paid the gold.
There was not much left he could do, no backup plan to employ, no distraction to make use of. Back at the market road, he had done his best to lose her and swiftly escape. Barrels were tipped over, carts of produce were flipped, and people atop ladders had been knocked down in her pursuit of him. However, nothing he did could cause her to falter. He had even resorted to depriving a passerby of his bath towel, in the hopes that the disturbing sight of a rather obese, naked man would disrupt her focus, and yet she seemed to unknowingly pass by it.
Faust mind was still working on a solution, when he came to a sudden realization. Ahead of him, a distinctive building with a long row of boarded up windows came into view, and he moaned upon understanding his location. Just around the corner lay a large wooden fence spanning between two buildings, effectively bringing the street to a dead-end. He had no other choice, his only option being to get over the fence. Reaching down and quickly pulling the wooden sliver from his sole, he dashed forward with whatever strength he could muster, leaving a trail of bloody footprints in his wake.
As he rounded the corner, he quickly slipped the bag strap from his shoulder and slung it upward, hoping it would clear the fence. Faust had a lot riding on this theft, and with that in mind he jumped with all his might, somehow managing to grab ahold of the tip of the fence. He felt his mouth break into a wide grin, his spirit rising with the glimpse of victory. Pulling himself up slightly, he could see the other side, but this glimpse of victory was short lived. A small pair of hands closed in around his neck, and Faust’s last feeling before blacking out was of an unseen mass on his back sending him crashing back to the ground.
He wasn’t sure for how long he had been unconscious, but a surge of pain emanating from his groin awoke him. Staring up at the perpetually dark sky, it only took a moment for the images to stop spinning and come into focus. He found himself looking at the brunette that had been chasing him, her boot firmly planted between his legs. Not wanting to aggravate her further, he simply lay back and waited, acknowledging that he was now at the mercy of his former prey.
The soreness in his feet served as a reminder of his errors. Despite his familiarity with the area, he had never been forced to run through it before. He found his memory unable to keep up with the rate at which they ran. Notable features, such as doorways and graffiti, barely had time to register in his mind as he flew by them. The tall, run-down buildings all began to look the same.
“Damn, that corner was….” Faust muttered as he mistakenly passed yet another useful path. Glancing over his shoulder, he could still see the girl a short distance away.
“Give it up already! You’ve got no chance, kid!” He yelled, hoping she’d hear and lose hope, but it proved pointless. She simply kept scurrying after him, a mixed expression of hatred and despair adorning her face.
His thoughts wandered for a moment. He couldn’t help but wonder why she felt so passionately about retrieving her bag. Of course, none of this victims liked being robbed, but at a certain point they all gave in and accepted their fate. However, this girl, whoever she was, acted as if her life depended on the pack’s contents. “You know, I almost find your determination admirable….in a really irritating kind of way.” He shouted back at her.
A sudden twinge of pain brought Faust’s attention back to what he was doing. Chancing a quick look downward, he could see the fragments of an old wooden crate strewn alongside the dirt path, a shard of which had embedded itself in his foot. Faust had thought he couldn’t find anything else to regret about that day, but he had just found evidence to the contrary. He was absolutely regretting his barefoot lifestyle as he limped along. Shoes had always seemed like an unnecessary expense, but at that moment, he had to admit he would’ve willing paid the gold.
There was not much left he could do, no backup plan to employ, no distraction to make use of. Back at the market road, he had done his best to lose her and swiftly escape. Barrels were tipped over, carts of produce were flipped, and people atop ladders had been knocked down in her pursuit of him. However, nothing he did could cause her to falter. He had even resorted to depriving a passerby of his bath towel, in the hopes that the disturbing sight of a rather obese, naked man would disrupt her focus, and yet she seemed to unknowingly pass by it.
Faust mind was still working on a solution, when he came to a sudden realization. Ahead of him, a distinctive building with a long row of boarded up windows came into view, and he moaned upon understanding his location. Just around the corner lay a large wooden fence spanning between two buildings, effectively bringing the street to a dead-end. He had no other choice, his only option being to get over the fence. Reaching down and quickly pulling the wooden sliver from his sole, he dashed forward with whatever strength he could muster, leaving a trail of bloody footprints in his wake.
As he rounded the corner, he quickly slipped the bag strap from his shoulder and slung it upward, hoping it would clear the fence. Faust had a lot riding on this theft, and with that in mind he jumped with all his might, somehow managing to grab ahold of the tip of the fence. He felt his mouth break into a wide grin, his spirit rising with the glimpse of victory. Pulling himself up slightly, he could see the other side, but this glimpse of victory was short lived. A small pair of hands closed in around his neck, and Faust’s last feeling before blacking out was of an unseen mass on his back sending him crashing back to the ground.
He wasn’t sure for how long he had been unconscious, but a surge of pain emanating from his groin awoke him. Staring up at the perpetually dark sky, it only took a moment for the images to stop spinning and come into focus. He found himself looking at the brunette that had been chasing him, her boot firmly planted between his legs. Not wanting to aggravate her further, he simply lay back and waited, acknowledging that he was now at the mercy of his former prey.
Monday, July 18, 2011
(5) Alley-oup!
She had let her bag fall for just a second, a mere moment of judgment lapse that ended up costing her the necessary funds among other things. Now... normal people would hesitate in shock, and Mercy usually would not count herself amongst normal people, but this time she'd been stupid enough to let her guard down, and it was actually Marie that alerted her to her bag making its way through the crowd.
"Mercy! That man!" Marie flagged him down with her arm desperately, nudging her friend none-too-gently. "He's getting away with your bag!"
Thrown rather quickly from her hesitation, the victim in question bolted forward, shoving some poor hapless twit out of her way. No, no, no, no! I cannot believe--I am going to kill him when I get my hands on his scrawny, little neck--wring him out to dry--feed him to a Gaichuu-- Multiple rather nasty comments and thoughts continued burning in her mind as she shoved and forged her way through the crowd, sporting a rather spot-on impression of a rampaging bull.
Ironically, Mercy has very little mercy. She is a living oxymoron most instances, and this is an example of one such instance. Especially emotionally charged at the thought of losing all her dingo funds--she had a lot riding on that future of becoming a Letter Bee--be it senior, vendor, man, or woman, they were moved or barrelled through. Her hair went a-fly along with various other objects and people with a strange tempest that picked up her trail (possibly all a matter of perspective, though with her quick feet and temper it is what later visitors to the square seeing the aftermath would think). Of course she could not change the fact of her physical limitations and had to avoid anyone that looked like they would be strong enough to withstand a direct collision with her and survive, but anyone and thing less than Hulks or Beasties were fair game.
"Hey! My oranges! God damn it!" A vendor cried as his cart was bumped into, causing the citrus to topple over onto the floor. A few children sneaked forward from the shadows and swiped some stray rolling fruits, then escaping through the alleyways to the vendor's chagrin. He would grumblingly salvage what was left and make do.
An inescapably really old lady meanwhile gasped as Mercy bolted past, causing the woman's skirt to fly up and possibly blinding a street full of people unfortunate enough to be facing in that direction. "Oh my~♥"
"The hell is your problem, brat?!" A gangster sneered with a pissed look and throbbing vein visually pulsing on his head.
"Watch it!"
"What the-"
"Ouch, w-"
The victim count exponentially increased in correlation to the rapidly decreasing distance between Mercy and her target. A heated expression turned scary as she was coming close enough to perhaps reach out and grab him, or perhaps even bodily throw her weight into him. However, that was before he turned into an alleyway. The scary look in her eyes turned frustrated, stressed, depressed, and then gradually there came to be just the two of them, running through the maze of the town's backwater alleyways. Her breath was coming heavy, but she couldn't give up.
"Please..." She huffed, but her speed didn't let up, she didn't dare to. "Stop, give it back... I need- need it for... a job."
"Mercy! That man!" Marie flagged him down with her arm desperately, nudging her friend none-too-gently. "He's getting away with your bag!"
Thrown rather quickly from her hesitation, the victim in question bolted forward, shoving some poor hapless twit out of her way. No, no, no, no! I cannot believe--I am going to kill him when I get my hands on his scrawny, little neck--wring him out to dry--feed him to a Gaichuu-- Multiple rather nasty comments and thoughts continued burning in her mind as she shoved and forged her way through the crowd, sporting a rather spot-on impression of a rampaging bull.
Ironically, Mercy has very little mercy. She is a living oxymoron most instances, and this is an example of one such instance. Especially emotionally charged at the thought of losing all her dingo funds--she had a lot riding on that future of becoming a Letter Bee--be it senior, vendor, man, or woman, they were moved or barrelled through. Her hair went a-fly along with various other objects and people with a strange tempest that picked up her trail (possibly all a matter of perspective, though with her quick feet and temper it is what later visitors to the square seeing the aftermath would think). Of course she could not change the fact of her physical limitations and had to avoid anyone that looked like they would be strong enough to withstand a direct collision with her and survive, but anyone and thing less than Hulks or Beasties were fair game.
"Hey! My oranges! God damn it!" A vendor cried as his cart was bumped into, causing the citrus to topple over onto the floor. A few children sneaked forward from the shadows and swiped some stray rolling fruits, then escaping through the alleyways to the vendor's chagrin. He would grumblingly salvage what was left and make do.
An inescapably really old lady meanwhile gasped as Mercy bolted past, causing the woman's skirt to fly up and possibly blinding a street full of people unfortunate enough to be facing in that direction. "Oh my~♥"
"The hell is your problem, brat?!" A gangster sneered with a pissed look and throbbing vein visually pulsing on his head.
"Watch it!"
"What the-"
"Ouch, w-"
The victim count exponentially increased in correlation to the rapidly decreasing distance between Mercy and her target. A heated expression turned scary as she was coming close enough to perhaps reach out and grab him, or perhaps even bodily throw her weight into him. However, that was before he turned into an alleyway. The scary look in her eyes turned frustrated, stressed, depressed, and then gradually there came to be just the two of them, running through the maze of the town's backwater alleyways. Her breath was coming heavy, but she couldn't give up.
"Please..." She huffed, but her speed didn't let up, she didn't dare to. "Stop, give it back... I need- need it for... a job."
Thursday, July 14, 2011
(4) Predator and Prey
Raising his hand to his mouth, he tried to stifle a deep yawn. “What rotten luck I have today. All this time spent, and not much to show for it.” Faust said with a groan. He continued to trudge down the street, absentmindedly playing with a few coins in his pocket.
Faust started to wonder if pickpocketing was a lost cause. Those with money were usually also careful enough to not display such wealth in public, at least not without being paranoid and overly cautious. He couldn't blame them, though. A marketplace like this was a prime hunting ground for thieves, with Faust himself occasionally finding that his recently stolen gold had somehow been stolen again. Only a fool would go about their business without a firm grip on their wallet.
Faust had barely finished this thought when he saw them, a pair of women walking down the street in his direction. One of them, a tiny brunette, walked with her bag hanging loosely from one shoulder. He couldn’t help but become excited at the sight of such an easy target, especially one who was already so distracted.
“This can’t be really happening. Such a target is almost too good to be true.” He said with a devious grin. Slowing his pace and evening his breath, Faust watched his prey with a trained eye. Though small in appearance, she struck Faust as being of relatively fast speed. It mattered not, however, because he had the element of surprise. If he came from behind, the shock of having her bag snatched would delay her response, giving him more than enough time to dash away and lose her in the alleys.
Faust continued to walk towards them, doing his best to avoid eye contact and appear preoccupied by the shops. In his mind, he secretly counted the number of steps until he came upon them. “6…5…4… “ He muttered quietly to himself. Then, the moment they began to stroll by, he thrust his arm out and ripped the bag from her shoulder. He did not wait to see what she did next. Whether she stood there in dismay, fell, or gave chase was of little importance to him now. To him, everybody and everything in the market was now an obstacle to overcome, a barrier between him and whatever loot could be found in the bag. All that mattered now was escape.
Faust started to wonder if pickpocketing was a lost cause. Those with money were usually also careful enough to not display such wealth in public, at least not without being paranoid and overly cautious. He couldn't blame them, though. A marketplace like this was a prime hunting ground for thieves, with Faust himself occasionally finding that his recently stolen gold had somehow been stolen again. Only a fool would go about their business without a firm grip on their wallet.
Faust had barely finished this thought when he saw them, a pair of women walking down the street in his direction. One of them, a tiny brunette, walked with her bag hanging loosely from one shoulder. He couldn’t help but become excited at the sight of such an easy target, especially one who was already so distracted.
“This can’t be really happening. Such a target is almost too good to be true.” He said with a devious grin. Slowing his pace and evening his breath, Faust watched his prey with a trained eye. Though small in appearance, she struck Faust as being of relatively fast speed. It mattered not, however, because he had the element of surprise. If he came from behind, the shock of having her bag snatched would delay her response, giving him more than enough time to dash away and lose her in the alleys.
Faust continued to walk towards them, doing his best to avoid eye contact and appear preoccupied by the shops. In his mind, he secretly counted the number of steps until he came upon them. “6…5…4… “ He muttered quietly to himself. Then, the moment they began to stroll by, he thrust his arm out and ripped the bag from her shoulder. He did not wait to see what she did next. Whether she stood there in dismay, fell, or gave chase was of little importance to him now. To him, everybody and everything in the market was now an obstacle to overcome, a barrier between him and whatever loot could be found in the bag. All that mattered now was escape.
Monday, July 11, 2011
(3) Shopping Terrors
((Mercy reference pic, picked off photobucket but minus the cat of course.))
Though she had intended to drag Marie as soon as she'd received the letter, Marie had insisted on better clothing fit for dingo-hunting out in town. What was wrong with what she was wearing, the to-be Letter Bee wondered. Well, whatever makes her happy. Thus, Mercy ended up swapping clothes for a simple black-brown dress with thick dark stockings. Adding a brown jacket, as well a hat and scarf, she found Marie again for her approval before finally heading out to find that long-awaited dingo...
She knew Marie was on edge, if her nervous fidgeting and tugging on her sleeve was any indication. But Mercy was adamant. That beautiful beastie in the cage was hers! Except, it was more than the two women could afford combined. Therefore Mercy attempted haggling. But Mercy isn't known for her smarts or for being very persuasive, so you can just imagine the big, scary beast-tamer's non-plussed reaction in comparison to Mercy's frustrated, flushing face.
"For the last time, misseh. No. Unless you have something else to offer than that meagre amount, no sale." He crossed his arms and his eyes bore into the two petite women.
"Mercy... let it go." Marie whispered to her. "We don't want to aggravate him and cause trouble."
Glancing at Marie hesitantly, Mercy reluctantly obliged. "Fine. It'd probably die or turn tail at the sight of a Gaichuu, anyway. I need a stronger, smarter dingo for a Letter Bee." Crinkling her nose derisively at the man and the beast, she left with her friend.
As they walked briskly--strolling or being leisurely might point you out as a target--through the marketplace with arms looped in each other's, Mercy glumly sulked over the lack of luck so far. The bag on her drooping shoulder slid down in tandem with her spirits as she muttered aloud, "Marie, what am I going to do? If I'm going to be a Letter Bee, I need a dingo. At this point, I'm starting to think anything would do, as long as they're willing to face the danger."
"It will be okay. Don't give up yet... We'll find you a trustworthy dingo!" Marie smiled, trying to encourage her. "There's still time left in this day."
"I want to be a Bee but..."
Then they hit a thicker part of the crowd, and her words were forgotten in favour of pulling Marie to a sparser section of the street. Her eyes passed over a kid her own age, though more ragged than her own figure, notable of a street urchin. It was quite common in this day and age, however. She didn't think much of it as they made their way.
Though she had intended to drag Marie as soon as she'd received the letter, Marie had insisted on better clothing fit for dingo-hunting out in town. What was wrong with what she was wearing, the to-be Letter Bee wondered. Well, whatever makes her happy. Thus, Mercy ended up swapping clothes for a simple black-brown dress with thick dark stockings. Adding a brown jacket, as well a hat and scarf, she found Marie again for her approval before finally heading out to find that long-awaited dingo...
~o~
She knew Marie was on edge, if her nervous fidgeting and tugging on her sleeve was any indication. But Mercy was adamant. That beautiful beastie in the cage was hers! Except, it was more than the two women could afford combined. Therefore Mercy attempted haggling. But Mercy isn't known for her smarts or for being very persuasive, so you can just imagine the big, scary beast-tamer's non-plussed reaction in comparison to Mercy's frustrated, flushing face.
"For the last time, misseh. No. Unless you have something else to offer than that meagre amount, no sale." He crossed his arms and his eyes bore into the two petite women.
"Mercy... let it go." Marie whispered to her. "We don't want to aggravate him and cause trouble."
Glancing at Marie hesitantly, Mercy reluctantly obliged. "Fine. It'd probably die or turn tail at the sight of a Gaichuu, anyway. I need a stronger, smarter dingo for a Letter Bee." Crinkling her nose derisively at the man and the beast, she left with her friend.
As they walked briskly--strolling or being leisurely might point you out as a target--through the marketplace with arms looped in each other's, Mercy glumly sulked over the lack of luck so far. The bag on her drooping shoulder slid down in tandem with her spirits as she muttered aloud, "Marie, what am I going to do? If I'm going to be a Letter Bee, I need a dingo. At this point, I'm starting to think anything would do, as long as they're willing to face the danger."
"It will be okay. Don't give up yet... We'll find you a trustworthy dingo!" Marie smiled, trying to encourage her. "There's still time left in this day."
"I want to be a Bee but..."
Then they hit a thicker part of the crowd, and her words were forgotten in favour of pulling Marie to a sparser section of the street. Her eyes passed over a kid her own age, though more ragged than her own figure, notable of a street urchin. It was quite common in this day and age, however. She didn't think much of it as they made their way.
Saturday, July 9, 2011
(2) The sneaky bastard known as Faust
“Oi, you there!” The shop owner bellowed. “The runt with the ugly hat. Stop right there!!”
Faust visibly flinched upon hearing the booming voice. Clutching the stolen items inside his jacket pocket, he sheepishly looked over his shoulder at the large man looming over him. The scowl on his face and the club he held in his hand made it plainly obvious to Faust that he had been caught yet again.
Letting out a deep sigh, he turned to study his captor, still trying to hide the loot he had almost gotten away with. Faust had to admit, he probably didn’t look like much to the mountain of a man in front of him. Despite being in his late teens, his growth had been stunted, most likely due to the hard life he had lived on the streets, leaving him barely over five feet tall. With his scrawny frame, he couldn’t even intimidate a baby if his life depended on it, and in the town he lived in, having a frail appearance meant you probably didn’t live too long. However, what he lacked in physical strength, he made up for with his mind. Faust considered himself to be a careful planner, always having something to fall back on in case one of his schemes backfired, and in this case it had paid off.
“I’m really sorry, sir. Please forgive me.” Faust did his best to appear guilt-ridden and apologetic. With his left hand he pulled out the pilfered gold pouch and extended his arm out, as if to give it back. With his right hand, he rummaged around for the bag of curry powder he had picked up earlier. Watching the surprised look on the man’s face, Faust fought to hold back a grin, fearing any sign of deceit would cause him to raise his guard again. With a quick lob, he hit the shop owner squarely in the face and dashed off, leaving him coughing on the cloud of powder. As he wove his way through the crowded market, he could hear the man howling profanities at the top of his voice, but he was relieved to see no pursuit was made.
Faust eventually found his way back to a familiar side street, where he felt he could rest without worry. The tall run-down buildings offered both shade and solitude. Slowing his pace to a leisurely walk, he took off his hat and brushed aside the pitch black hair that had fallen over his face. “There has got to be an easier way to earn some coin than this.” Faust said with an exasperated tone. He had never been particularly good at theft, but there was something so alluring about loot……. It didn’t matter the form, he was attracted to treasure of any kind.
“Well, I guess I should get back to work”. Faust said, turning towards one of the main streets. Pulling the large bi-colored knit cap back onto his head, he mingled amongst the throngs of shoppers, looking for any purses in need of liberating.
Faust visibly flinched upon hearing the booming voice. Clutching the stolen items inside his jacket pocket, he sheepishly looked over his shoulder at the large man looming over him. The scowl on his face and the club he held in his hand made it plainly obvious to Faust that he had been caught yet again.
Letting out a deep sigh, he turned to study his captor, still trying to hide the loot he had almost gotten away with. Faust had to admit, he probably didn’t look like much to the mountain of a man in front of him. Despite being in his late teens, his growth had been stunted, most likely due to the hard life he had lived on the streets, leaving him barely over five feet tall. With his scrawny frame, he couldn’t even intimidate a baby if his life depended on it, and in the town he lived in, having a frail appearance meant you probably didn’t live too long. However, what he lacked in physical strength, he made up for with his mind. Faust considered himself to be a careful planner, always having something to fall back on in case one of his schemes backfired, and in this case it had paid off.
“I’m really sorry, sir. Please forgive me.” Faust did his best to appear guilt-ridden and apologetic. With his left hand he pulled out the pilfered gold pouch and extended his arm out, as if to give it back. With his right hand, he rummaged around for the bag of curry powder he had picked up earlier. Watching the surprised look on the man’s face, Faust fought to hold back a grin, fearing any sign of deceit would cause him to raise his guard again. With a quick lob, he hit the shop owner squarely in the face and dashed off, leaving him coughing on the cloud of powder. As he wove his way through the crowded market, he could hear the man howling profanities at the top of his voice, but he was relieved to see no pursuit was made.
Faust eventually found his way back to a familiar side street, where he felt he could rest without worry. The tall run-down buildings offered both shade and solitude. Slowing his pace to a leisurely walk, he took off his hat and brushed aside the pitch black hair that had fallen over his face. “There has got to be an easier way to earn some coin than this.” Faust said with an exasperated tone. He had never been particularly good at theft, but there was something so alluring about loot……. It didn’t matter the form, he was attracted to treasure of any kind.
“Well, I guess I should get back to work”. Faust said, turning towards one of the main streets. Pulling the large bi-colored knit cap back onto his head, he mingled amongst the throngs of shoppers, looking for any purses in need of liberating.
(1) Mercy and Marie
"MARIE!" A loud shout echoed through the noisy orphanage. "Marie! Where the hell are you?"
An incoherent but obviously irritated reply eventually came, filtering through the wall of the kitchen. Mercy practically skipped into the room, holding an open letter up, continuing to exclaim, "I made it! God, I can't believe it--I did it!"
"Don't shout, it's loud enough with all the kids." Marie scolded sternly, eventually wearing a kinder look about her face. She wasn't that much older than Mercy, perhaps in her later 20's, while Mercy herself was around later teens/early twenties. Blond hair kept back in a working woman's bun, with weary but kind blue eyes, that is what had greeted Mercy and the other orphaned kids for her whole life. "Anyway... Congratulations, Mercy. I knew you could do it. See, all that studying paid off, didn't it?"
Mercy was a light brunette with amber-coloured eyes and pale skin (most people nowadays were with not exactly a lot of sun to work with). She was tiny for her age, but fit and fast on her feet when she needed to be. And good thing, too. For the town they lived in was harsh, and if you weren't strong, you needed to be fast or smart to make up for it. Mercy wasn't especially smart, but at least with her speed and perseverence, her application to become a Letter Bee was accepted.
"Yeah... Thanks, Marie." She was so happy. All that was left was finding a dingo.
"Alright then. Let's go find you a partner. That letter means you'll be leaving at least this month, unless I'm mistaken?"
Mercy nodded. "Yeah. Let's go, let's go, we don't have time!" She said, dragging her older friend with her to town.
An incoherent but obviously irritated reply eventually came, filtering through the wall of the kitchen. Mercy practically skipped into the room, holding an open letter up, continuing to exclaim, "I made it! God, I can't believe it--I did it!"
"Don't shout, it's loud enough with all the kids." Marie scolded sternly, eventually wearing a kinder look about her face. She wasn't that much older than Mercy, perhaps in her later 20's, while Mercy herself was around later teens/early twenties. Blond hair kept back in a working woman's bun, with weary but kind blue eyes, that is what had greeted Mercy and the other orphaned kids for her whole life. "Anyway... Congratulations, Mercy. I knew you could do it. See, all that studying paid off, didn't it?"
Mercy was a light brunette with amber-coloured eyes and pale skin (most people nowadays were with not exactly a lot of sun to work with). She was tiny for her age, but fit and fast on her feet when she needed to be. And good thing, too. For the town they lived in was harsh, and if you weren't strong, you needed to be fast or smart to make up for it. Mercy wasn't especially smart, but at least with her speed and perseverence, her application to become a Letter Bee was accepted.
"Yeah... Thanks, Marie." She was so happy. All that was left was finding a dingo.
"Alright then. Let's go find you a partner. That letter means you'll be leaving at least this month, unless I'm mistaken?"
Mercy nodded. "Yeah. Let's go, let's go, we don't have time!" She said, dragging her older friend with her to town.
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