Chisalu was practicing her most useful game. It was known as begging, and it was a degrading sport that the more it degraded you, the more you tended to win at it. Her current method was something similar to a salivating dog. This particular technique included shuffling from one part of the courtyard, to another, whilst trying to appear desolate, starved and to gaze at people with wide eyes that had to give the appearance of ‘carved out at the backs from the hunger’. It could be surprisingly ineffective at certain times. This was likely to be one of these times.

Not one crumb. Chi kicked up invisible clouds of dust with her feet. Pushing her braid-back, and swaying on odd balance points in the soles of her feet, she gave the impression of an unusual example of avian movement. She tucked her arms behind her back, worsening her turn for feathered likeness, and eyed the courtyard critically. To whom would she turn her attempts upon next? Settling her back against a wall, which she had surreptitiously approached, she leaned comfortably into the shadows, feeling the wall against her back. She brushed her knuckles against the stones of the wall, face quiet in a manner that silence did not carry correctly, and looked around solemnly for a target.

She had changed her game considerably, however, no more did she seek to pry rupee (or, even better carbohydrates) with her longing gaze. There are simply any number of days when simply looking miserably hungry, vulnerably young and distinctly desolate didn’t fill your pockets. However, she had noticed some particularly full pockets, and this was her new aim. She shifted half-naturally into the shadows, alienating herself from the memories people had of her being there, as she slid along the wall. The less people who remembered where she had been would be altogether better when she went to harvest money-pouches. A reputation was hard to build, but still possible, and a terrible thing it was. A reputation was a halo of light from the devil himself – it was no good to be recognized as a common pickpocket. People had a nasty tendency to be the most defensive of their deep pockets. A mild person who would throws bread to a starving old woman, could become a ferocious person – quick to draw conclusions, but slow to empathize (noting, that they often tended to draw more than just conclusions). Chisa supposed it was the sense of being invaded, a violation of types, that they really had trouble swallowing.

She slid out of the shadows in a casual movement, adding too much feline to her steps and regretting it. Still, too late to be debating whether or not she looked like she was about to commit a minor offense, she pressed her thin body into the thicket of the crowd, folding herself perfectly into the empty spaces, and finally in a coil around one person’s pathway. A typical thief bumps, to disguise the actual moment of stealing, or even to facilitate it, Chisa did not, trying to keep her hands feather-light, as she fished for a small…anything of value. A pouch of money perhaps? All too often, bumps and knocks and stumbles could warn a person, if she could escape swiftly, they would not discover the missing item until both she and her target were too far from each other for it to matter.

Whatever she had grabbed hooked on the side, and pulled at the material. Chisalu winced inside, but shifted her style instantly, she toppled forward, squealing unhappily, onto the floor and grabbed onto the said person’s clothing. The average person would not realize the split-second difference between the first tug and the second, and the item was already hidden away in a fold in her clothing…or so she had hoped. Her act had been out of practice, and it was still clutched tightly in her hand when she fell back onto the ground, hands down and fisted, whimpering and squealing dramatically. Whilst not visible, simply flipping that hand would reveal what it contained by best estimate. She would have to be very careful of the hand she used for the next moments. She rubbed her forehead, blinking with what could only be a dazed, sweet and befuddled look, carefully, with the hand without the item, pressing the back of her hand to her head.

“Nnh..” She blinked, and stared up out of butterfly lashes. “S-sorry…” She mumbled, sounding confused but recovering. If she seemed too uneasy, she would have unfair notice, but if she didn’t have enough, she would seem to be most likely a thief. The fact she was did nothing to improve the usefulness of this concept. She recited careful mantras to herself in a distant-portion of her mind, adjusted her breathing to make her entire body slightly less steady, and gain the correct expression. Though out of practice, she could still remember a few basic, ingrained tricks. Truthfulness used in measure, helped the lies go down; add a spoon full of sugar and there we go.


ooc: I seem to be back..

Persona wrote:This is the very moment I saw your placeholder~

Hullo there Kasei, how're you?

I'm fine, thanks for asking. Also; I assume that I am the one being stolen from?

IC: Kasei observed in serene silence from his place amongst the people as another beggar wandered the crowds; a young girl who looked like she had been revived as a re-dead, with her thinness. These types of people always interested Kasei and, while he did nothing to donate to her charity, he did keep an eye out on her; the needy are often the easiest of targets for rapists, slavers, or other undesirables.

As he watched her, she faded into the shadows. A shiekahn, huh? This should be interesting. He thought, and observed as she disappeared. Though she had long since faded away from his sight, his other senses; smell in particular, helped keep an 'eye' on her as she navigated through the crowds. The poor thing, resorting to common thievery. He mused, as he sensed her pop up again in the crowd, not too far away from him. He decided to move along with the crowd as she came across him. Almost instantly, he felt a tab at his pocket. Ah...she seeks to swindle me. He said, and was about to turn around when she toppled to the ground, grabbing his jacket in the process and thus almost bringing him down with her. He stood strong, however, and held himself, and her up.

He listened as she shot off apologies, but simply stared at her as he checked his pocket. I see...she took that, eh? Interesting. He thought.

"Well...little miss...it seems that you're alright....be on your way." He said to her, as he helped her up with a tug of her arm. I wonder what will happen now...how will this seed grow?

Chisalu had selected a man, who whilst he might have held to have been ‘in serene silence’ to her, appeared to her, as a rather spaced gentleman with too much fluff between his ears, as opposed to grey matter. Basically a perfect person to steal something from. People who couldn’t watch their possessions were useful, but considerably rare, however, those who couldn’t keep a strong grip on them were more common. A long day, a wearing one, or simply a bad one could dull the senses considerably, and weaken the hold. Exhaustion robbed awareness, and in its turn, could rob you of your belongings.

Her technique of take-then-fall-to-cover-the-tug fell short, as the man did not so much as stumble, and her fingers clutched convulsively to his garment. Chisalu’s grip on the jacket instinctively held, and although considerably off-balance, she was on both her feet. She considered faltering her grip and dropping to the floor, but his redirection of his attention to his pocket – subtly, but alarming – caused her to flush, let go of the jacket, and staggered back to balance. This action caused her to fall back, but he helped her back to her feet properly. Still, he must know something was gone and she made to get away, preferably soon. Still, her ears caught his words. Cocking her head, like a puzzled dog, she gazed at him with interest; This one let the thief go?

Her fingers tightened about the object, trying to determine what it was by feel. Rough, smooth, indistinguishable; her blood was hammering too loudly for her thoughts, and the webs of pink spread across her cheeks in a bramble-like formation. Red-tinged hair brought with it paleness. Paleness, brought with it the knowledge your blush was obvious. She repeated several mantras to herself, preparing her mind to believe she was innocent, and clear the physiological response that could give her away.

I’m already given away, Chisalu curtsied obediently, in the style of street vermin, tumbling legs and low-class graces. However, underneath the firm language of ‘I am destitute’ was a passing hint of station. Like an accent to a rat-tongue, or a sheikahn stealing, something you couldn’t help.

“Thank you sir!” She backed away into the crowd, melting into passing shadows, but circled back to follow the man. A man who let himself be robbed. She inspected the item she had managed to acquire.



Ooc: What oh what has Chisa got?

Sorry for slow reply. School-work, as you can imagine.

OOC: This.

As the thief checked the item she had acquired, she realized that it was not one item, rather, it was a satchel of them. It contained several rings of varying sized; about seven of them to be exact. If Chisalu was going to guess, she could probably sell one of these for quite a bit.

Still, there was one that seemed to catch her attention; it was obviously made of pure gold, and was inscribed with the image of a rupee. It seemed to almost call out to her; and she could tell that it's power would perhaps bring her riches.

[Gold Joy Ring Acquired]

Still, the rest of the rings seemed rather ordinary in comparison, so selling them was probably her best bet.

OOC: BTW, are you a fan of the Persona games?

ooc: Nope, but I have heard of them. They sound nice. N'aw, my psuedonym here is a Latin Translation of a pet name for me (Mask) and I'm a big fan of Latin.

ic:

Chisalu blinked her eyes several times, she counted them out very carefully, and slid them onto her fingers in order of worth. At least from her lowly opinion. As a pocket peruser, she had at least a selling eye for rings, if not a technical one. She counted along her fingers, sliding another onto her third finger, and picked up the next one, prepared to study its facets.

"Gold?" She bit down on the ring to check. "Hm..." The metal bent under her fierce bite, she quickly squished it back to original shape, smoothing out the edges. Yes, it would be gold. She turned it about, eying the inscription with interest. Stroking the ring carefully, she heard the strange, half-call from the metal and shoved it back into the satchel.

Magic.

She could taste the edge of wealth on the bands. No training, or plenty, one could always identify the flavour of power wherever it was. Perhaps it was a Sheikah trait, or simply a people one. She waggled her other hand over the bag and the other rings clinked into it with high-bell like clatters. She would sell those, and decide upon the course of action regarding the...other one.

Rings did not put food in your sack, nor your belly, and a quick sell was a decent idea. Still, she looked up and chased back after her unknown (and unaware, she hoped) benefactor. If this ring were magic, it might explain his attitude. Just what she needed, a cursed ring. Chisalu glanced at the floor, not for answers, more to hide the expression in her eyes. Magic was not trustworthy. Her eyes flicked back up, and she twisted to the side, to avoid an oncoming person, and keep track of him.

Kasei felt the small yet constantly attentive presence of the girl following him. I see...she's curious now, that's a good thing, I believe. The Shiekahn thought as he trailed down the road, past the various stalls. He was sure to keep a brisk pace, keeping himself on the edge of the girls' sight; not completely difficult for her to follow, but she would have to search to find him on occasion.

He teetered down a familiar path; towards a tavern he was quite fond of. He stepped inside into the dim light and the smell of ale, and navigated towards his usual seat by the window. "A Goron Ale, please." He said simply as the waitress approached him. He then sat, and waited for his pursuer to catch up, and maybe enjoy a drink.

Chisa tilted her head to the side, whilst capable enough of living alone, she hadn't caught onto the fact that people occasionally wanted someone to follow them. The fact that this, ahem, fact had escaped her, meant that she did not recognize the precise mannerism Kasei was using to keep her following him. So, innocently, she toddled after him, dodging through the crowd, until she came upon a tavern. She gazed up at it carefully, before pushing against the door-frame with her body.

The door opened up with a creak, and she stepped in carefully, the door swinging shut behind her with a gentle clatter. Wrinkling her nose at the heavy scent of ale, Chisalu quickly ducked to the side into the crowd. She melded quietly into the shadows, and looked about, her red eyes bright with incautious curiousity. An older, or wiser Sheikahn would not tempt fate in such a way, but she instead edged carefully over to her benefactor (if he were indeed that) and crouched down round the side of his table, half under it.

She eyed his legs, and more importantly his feet, wondering if she should loosen his shoes and thus keep him from following her so swiftly. Sniffing the air, she found the odour of ale made her eyes water and smart slightly, but suppressed her urge to sneeze as best she could. Then pondered on why she were here, and what she was to do.

OoC:// -smited for being insanely dumbly slow-

The waitress returned and Kasei happily recieved his drink before paying. He smiled a bit as he opened the ale and took a few, deep sips and then sat it down on the table.

Suddenly, his hand launched out and grabbed his little persuer by the back of her neck and he gently lifted her into the seat next to him, without appearing to get up at all. "Hello little one." He said with a kind voice. "Care to settle down a bit?"