Arrika was a thief through and through, and she knew that she should have tried to attack him again. She didn't know why, but the impulse mysteriously passed. She reasoned with herself that it was because he seemed to be just as skilled, if not more so, as she was, and the damn mask he wore unnerved her more than she cared to admit.

"Nothing too special about that... I am a Sheikah. So... who trained you?" she asked suddenly, finding herself to be very curious.

The question made him stop in his tracks. He wasn't expecting it, and it certainly slipped past his defenses of negotiation. After muttering, "damn," under his breath, he responded, barely missing a beat. "Once your entire family is murdered, you learn to fend for yourself," he said the line with a dull but chipper tone. "I guess I just taught myself in time, starting small as most people do. I suppose being a mage helps, but I wasn't, not in the beginning at least. I would've never made it through those first few years if it wasn't for the Mayor and that Grendel boy." He gave himself a light chuckle, before continuing along.

"Could I ask you the same, or would that be to personal. I would gander the Tempest, but tales say you already knew much of the art before you met him?"

"Tales? Am I famous now?" she said, not put off by his explanation. Tragedy wasn't an uncommon background for thieves, after all. "No, Sovelis didn't teach me anything I would care to use now." The name felt awkward spoken allowed. "Father was a highwayman. Mother was a barmaid. They knew a bit too much for their own good... so in the end I was brought up by a rogue. Maybe you've heard of him? ...Kobas."

The man halted again, before starting to continue to move slowly, again, she threw him off, by bringing up the name of that man. He sighed.

"Yes, I know that rogue. Or knew I guess. It's been a long time. Honestly, from what I saw in him, I'd think Sovelis a better mentor. The Tempest is a far better man than most dare to say he is. Not that I accuse you of slandering a former master," he commented.

"But maybe I'm wrong, I can be wrong from time to time, actually, I hope I am..." he added, realizing the true depth of Kobas' evil if he was right. "I prey he was quite a good teacher, though you don't have to implore so. You're talented, and if you thank him for that, I'll believe you," he turned back, giving her a warmer smile than his stern face earlier, though that damn mask may have painted him inhumane again.

"He's dead now," she said flatly, and felt almost shocked for saying so, as if she'd only now realized what she'd done. "Cold, heartless bastard. How'd you... meet him? When? I'm sure I would have remembered someone like you."

She laughed. "I'm not that talented. Believe me. Just... lucky, I suppose."

Thealter smiled after hearing the rogue was head, though only on the inside. If his assumptions were right, then good riddance to bad rubbish, but he could hear the detachment in her voice. She didn't even know what to think of Kobas.

"Well, perhaps all's for the best then. I met him many years ago. I was young, not the person I am now. You wouldn't recognize me back then, not at all, but you were there. Even in your youth, you were a delicate flower of beauty," he said, fortunately he was wearing the mask, otherwise his blush would be fairly obvious. "In a young lady sort of way," he added in hindsight. "You've grown into quite a talented woman, and I do mean talented when I say it. Nobody makes it this far in this business on just luck, trust me."

Then they were at the door. "Anything you wished to rebuttal before we intrude?" he implored, grabbing the door's handle.

"You must be remembering Mirielle. Or Rebecca. I promise you I wasn't ever a delicate flower of beauty," she snorted derisively. "I agree with the luck bit, though."

She brushed past him and entered the room herself. "Flower of beauty..." she muttered again, laughing a bit harshly. "Not the first time I've heard that one."

"Are you seeing it yet?" he asked, walking in behind her. "Your painting? Your eyes work better in the dark than mine." He started to look for the piece too, but he was sure the Sheikah would have better luck.

Then he added, "I'm sorry about the compliment. I must have hit a nerve, but I feel so sorry for whatever happened. When women reject compliments, it's usually something really really bad," he sighed. "I'm sorry, but I meant what I said, as a gentleman, not as some washy-suitor down the street." He bowed lightly before continuing his search.

"A gentleman," she repeated, laughing again. "Comedian, are you? Hmmm, let's see..."

She spotted the painting almost immediately. "Her reflection's a lot better looking than she is..." she commented pensively, and proceeded to lift the art from the wall. It wasn't a huge painting, thankfully, and fit snugly under her arm. "Now, while I'm here..." She glanced around the room thoughtfully and began to rifle through the drawers and closets with no hesitation.

He frowned at his own foolishness. The old Thealter would have never made such an error. What could bring this change about? He pushed the thought aside, checking the room for some beloved folder or file. He searched high and low, even bothering to look in places the vagabond already had.

Yet all to no avail. He screamed out a profanity, only loudly enough for them both to hear. He flopped down on the bed, and sigh'd fill sore. "Do the gods curse me?" he pondered aloud, almost forgetting his companion was here. "Oh well," he noted, getting up before looking over to the thief. "Well, I guess my job still needs to be done, want to find anything else of value in this wretched hellhole, I can be your guide?"

"As generous as that sounds, I don't want to weigh myself down too much, eh?" she said, leaping onto the bed beside him and scrutinizing a pair of gold watches she had found. She had collected a small pile of jewelry, which she tucked into her pockets. She glanced at Thea, then back at the two watches. "It won't do any good if you come away from this with nothing. Here, this would look good on you," she said, fastening an engraved watch around his wrist.

He merely smiled at the gesture. One, it was more kindness than he deserved. Two, she put the watch on him. Three, she was on the bed, beside him now. And lastly, Simon wore a watch to match Orpheous'.

"It's funny, that boy, Grendel, he wears a watch like his mentor. Yet, I find this more fitting than that Termina brand. Hyrulean is in this year," he chuckled oddly, before giving the thief a light hug, before backing off quickly, realizing he may have been out of line.

"Just a hug?" Arrika said lightly, and curled up closer beside him. "Goddesses... I'm tired... Rhyss has me running around all night and day, doing this like this for him," she said, gesturing at the painting propped up against the nightstand. "Hmmm... Tell me something I don't know about you."

Now, she thought, would be a terrible time for whoever owned this place to come back home.

He smiled, happy his hug was well received. To match her cuddling up to him, he put his arm around her, slipping out of his overcoat in the process.

"If you must know something, then I'm afraid I will have payment to take," he stated, kissing her cheek lightly.

"Hmm, I enjoy painting and the art of dance. Will that suffice?" he asked.

"Not as remarkable a secret as I'd hoped you'd divulge," she said with a theatrical sigh. "Are you any good?" she whispered teasingly, leaning closer with a half-smile.

If she closed her eyes, she could lie here... Lie here and pretend that he was someone else, a blue-haired, green-eyed rogue. But she couldn't close her eyes, not with that eerie mask staring back at her. She moved slowly, gently lifting it away.