The summers in the Highlands could be cool, if you were at the right altitudes, but mainly, they were unbearably hot. Today, more-so than any other was especially unbearable. The weather the last few days had been so hot that Hylian messengers from North Castle had declared a heatwave in affect over the Ruto region. A heat wave that had broke at nightfall.

Finally, cool air, after all the suffocatingly boiling nights. The gods were smiling on Thealter tonight, he could sense it. He had been in Ruto Town for a few days now, after having accepted a contract to intrude upon a house and steal a certain artifact. The contract came from people within Hylian Intelligence, who had recently apprehended the decent bandit; they offered to clear his criminal record if he assisted in stealing a file from the house of a Hylian politician who was lining his pockets with money from the technology business around Ruto Town.

Getting into the house had not been a problem. The politician, an aged ex-Hylian Knight retired for some thirty years, had left to attend an out of town meeting, and he wouldn't be back for some time. However, locating the artifact would be.

He passed by an ancient looking statue of Din, of good size and quality, and was half tempted to take it and put it in his sack he carried on his back. He wore his mask, a dark mask which hid the area around his eyes, and his nose covered by the protruding long beak. He wore an overcoat too, finally being cold enough that he was able to withstand putting it on without burning alive inside of it.

He had told Cecile, as that was the man's name in charge of putting him on this contract (which also had a slight monetary benefit), that he would try not to take more than necessary, but he never did make promises. He was about to grab up the statue of Din, but decided he didn't need the gods looking down on him, so he grabbed a golden candle-stick set and placed it in his sack. Then he continued to parade through the house, looking for his assignment.

Moonlight filtering through the windows cast long shadows in the house. The house was empty- or, at least, it should have been.

An unnatural shadow hovered and flickered, flitting about the halls silently. It moved eerily, like liquid darkness, and appeared to be searching for something. It paused suddenly, seeming to look to the left and right, as it heard a quiet but distinct rustle of rough fabric.

The shadow raced through the house, zipping under furniture and sliding across the walls like a dark stain. It paused again. Foosteps.

Fingertips appeared at the edges of the shadow, then a head.

Arrika hauled herself out of her shadow form as if it were a pool, leather boots landing softly on the carpeted floor. She was here because there was a painting Rhyss wanted, somewhere in this house. This was supposed to be an easy job... until she detected someone else prowling about as well. From the way they moved- and she was deducing this all from one sound- they, like her, were not supposed to be here.

She crept through the house until she spotted him, masked and in a long coat, with a sack across his back. So that was what had made that rustling sound, the fabric and whatever it was he'd filched in there. He was strutting about the house confidently- too confidently for her liking. She drew her blade, and following her attack-first-ask-questions-later policy, let it fly towards the stranger.

He smirked when he heard the landing of boots upon the floor. True, he was also wearing boots, but that wasn't what he found humourous. He had suspected a second individual in the house for some time, but now he knew. He could also, thinking back, hear a figure shifting out of shadowmeld. So she was a Sheikah, more than likely. And indeed it was a she, he could tell, a young short one at that. Most thieves were female, especially ones who stole into a house in the dead of night, and this was especially true with Sheikahn female thiefs. Secondly, the sound of the figure moving through the dark, the soft treading of the feet, and more importantly, when they landed out the the shadows gave away a feminine step and a small shoe size, two great tell tale signs of a woman.

He heard the blade being drawn, and, making it look like an accident, he moved out of the way, his back still mostly facing her. He did this by bending over to pick up his staff. He lingered for a moment, as though to stretch before saying out loud, "So, what brings you here thieving, young miss?"

Arrika was a bit taken back when the blade missed its mark and embedded itself with a dull thunk into the opposite wall. He moved naturally, without looking at her, but there was no way it had been a fluke.

"I could ask you the same thing," she replied, instinctively drawing another knife from her belt. She was strong, for a girl, but there was no way she could beat a man in hand-to-hand combat. Her grip upon the handle was reassuring.

His mask cast eerie shadows across the floor; the beak-shape unnerved her, but she dare not let it show on her face. "What's with the mask?" she asked lightly, out of morbid curiosity.

He actually laughed, although stifling it a bit, not that he was worried about people outside hearing it, the house was practically sound proof. But she might have other colleagues in this house. "Curious, are we?" he asked, about her first statement. "I don't have to disclose to you why I'm here, but you're a thief, and certainly there must be some level of honor amongst us. I'm looking for something of little significance to you or any other person, and it has practically no street value price. What I'm looking for is a file with some important paperwork in it. That is all I think I need share."

Then he noticed a quick flicker, she was covering up some kind of emotion, then the question about the mask. He laughed again, though this time, in his own mind, not out loud. It must frighten her, he thought. He took it off, and with the thread that held it against his head, he held it. He had the most striking face, handsome, but a slight bit scraggly. And his eyes, they seemed to be ever deeper pools of blue now. He held up his free hand, having left the staff on the ground, and summoned a small orb of light, but not enough to draw attention to the house. He let it illuminate himself, but didn't further it to cast light unto her shadowy form. True, he could see her now, but not entirely.

"This mask is a momento given to me by somebody very special. They are no longer with us, too enlightened to stick around as a spirit either. I wear it often, especially when I'm trespassing," he explained, understanding. He remembered being scared before by strange people.

"So, now that I've shown I can be civilized, might I try asking you again, what brings you here?" he implored. "And please, don't try to attack me again, I would hate to harm a young girl, nay, I would refuse to," he furthered added.

The thief sucked in a quiet gasp of surprise when the stranger took off his mask.

Not bad, she thought. Certainly Rhyss' type.

"A... friend of mine asked me to find a certain painting in this house that he took a fancy to."

The dim light made it seem as if her physical form was flickering inconsistently. She continued to hold her invisible grip on the shadows around them. He was just a Hylian, and even though he was a thief, the darkness was her domain. He seemed friendly enough, but she didn't let her guard down an inch.

"It's of a woman with a harp, gazing at her reflection in a pool...it's called Narcissa," she said, watching him carefully.

He frowned. "I haven't seen it," he stated, lightly, before finally catching a good look at the figure of the girl. It was Arrika. He laughed. Of all the people he could run into, he ran into her.

He recognized her, perhaps she didn't know it, but he had met her former mentor figure once. Kobas. Thealter was a great judge of character, though maybe not back then, and looking back at it, Kobas did seem to be a rather rotten fellow. He had also heard of her actions through the war that occurred a while ago. He was injured, so he sat out of many a battle, but he did do a lot of research on key figures and she was one of them. A talented thief, and the lover/apprentice of Sovelis, the Last Tempest.

He gave her a light-hearted smile. "Arrika, I'm so glad it's you. We've never met, but I've seen you around, and heard many an epic involving you. It's so strange to see you here in person though, actually on the job. My name is Thealter, I'm an associate of Simon Grendel, Orpheous' apprentice. Most people call me Theal, or those daring enough might call me Thea," he explained. After catching his break, he asked, "So, how are things with the Tempest?"

"Well enough, I guess," was Arrika's guarded reply. "I haven't seen him in a while, so I wouldn't know... I suppose I own the mansion now?" she added in the most lighthearted tone she could muster.

She had never seen or even heard of Thealter before, despite her questionable lifelong profession. She had also never intended to give him her name. What else did her know about her?

"Did your homework, did you... Thea?" she said, guessing he had previously looked into her background. He was no friend of Sovelis; the Tempest never did have many friends to begin with, and the scoundrel before her certainly wouldn't have been one of them.

He, fortunately for her, didn't seem to carry an antagonistic postwar sentiments- she knew by experience that those could get rather uncomfortable and nasty.

He must be quite a petty thief if I've never heard of him, she thought. But his use of magic, even to create the simple glowing orb, unnerved her. That, with his excellent reflexes... she could not risk underestimating him.

She took an instant dislike to the familiar way he spoke to her, as if he knew her already, and the careless way he brought up Sovelis. To this day she still didn't know if she missed the Tempest, and the old days when she wasn't disgusted with magic. She was as carefree as a bird back then. She coped with his memory by denying it.

"Well, I won't get in your way, whatever you're after. I'll leave you to your business and you leave me to mine." She boldly stepped around him and down the hallway, seeming to melt into the dark.

Soon, she would have heard the patter of light feet behind her. "Perhaps it would be best if we cooperate," suggested the 'petty thief' behind her, having caught up to her. "Even if you don't want to help me, I can tell that you're going to need an extra pair of eyes to help you look around. If you haven't found the painting yet, perhaps it would be best working with somebody who knows the layout of the house," he offered.

"I wouldn't even ask you to help me with what I'm looking for either," he specified. He gave her a look, if he had caught her eyes by now, that seemed rather friendly and genuine. "Also, I wouldn't want the painting for myself, I'm here on other business," he added. "So, what do you say, comrade?"

OoC: Stanford app is over. I got time for now.

IC:

The thief laughed derisively but granted him the honor of undoing her Shadowmeld instead of running off and leaving him there like her instincts told her to.

"Tell me, how do you know so much about this house?" she asked. She weighed the pros and cons. There were plenty of reasons not to refuse or just kill him, and a minimal number of reasons to do so. He would certainly make this job easier, and after this, she'd never be bothered by him again. She made up her mind. "I couldn't take advantage of a sweet little thing like you... Unless I change my mind, I can lend you my own... services in exhange for yours," she added ironically, as Thea was significantly taller than her.

"I'd like to get this over as soon as possible, Din knows I never get time for myself anymore." She muttered this part darkly.

"So, where's the master bedroom? My instincts say he would have liked the image of a beautiful woman close by."

OOC: Sorry for the delay.

IC: Thealter gave her acceptance of his offer a heart smile, before putting his mask back on, that facial cloak that allowed him to keep his cool. It was the only memento left of her, that one. Both his sanity and insanity came for that fateful day. But, he shook his head briskly, whisking away the pains of his pass. He was on a mission, and more importantly, he was helping the famed Arrika to seek her own item as well.

He didn't notice her comment about time to herself, or rather, he did, but he didn't register the tone. He was too busy trying to analysis his last steps, making sure he didn't even see a hint of that picture before. Indeed, he didn't, and by that time, he caught the question about the master bedroom.

"I suppose having a beautiful woman for inspiration has its perks," mentioned Thea lightly. "Kind of ironic. For that egotistical swine to have a narcissism based piece called Narcissa." He paused a moment, before letting out a light chuckle. "Second floor, fourth door on the left," he commented.

"I'll lead the way," he proclaimed softly, treading lightly but quickly in front of her.

"Still haven't told me how you know so much about this place," Arrika said, a good ten feet behind.

She didn't say anything when he put his mask back on and managed to hide her distaste. It was eerie, the way it managed to make him seem less than human...

"Hope you can see out of that," she couldn't help but add. She drew her knife out of its sheath silently, closing the distance between them. Her instincts were telling her to stab him and run. Or maybe just run.

"I know what I'm told," he answered back, softly, calmly. Far to calmly; indeed, right now, he seemed less than Human. "If I must be honest, I was told to retrieve very important paper work this old war general has... by Hylian Intelligence. Please, hold your tongue to others on that subject, as I'd hate to cut it out." He just kept walking forward, but started to slow as she began to move quicker. Her heard her pull out the danger.

"Good luck piercing my overcoat. It's a pretty hard material." Before she could take notice, he had turned himself around, almost in an about face manner. He removed his mask again, to show her his perfect face and wild, sapphire eyes.

"I don't plan on harming you. Not a soul will have to know what transpired in this manor tonight. I don't want to hurt you, but don't expect me to not fight back. Please, it doesn't have to be like this," he pleaded, seemingly to be at her whim. He reached out, and grabbed her dagger hand lightly, attempting to still it, and take the item from her as calmly as possible. In doing so, he practically had to subject himself down to her height, and meet her obstinate eyes with his own. His azure pupils seemed to be full of understanding and tranquility, not the eyes of somebody wishing for bloodshed. He brought his other hand to still her open one, making sure she couldn't just succor punch him out of the blue, though she seemed to be more inclined to flee than fight, it did seem. "Please, we can both get what we came here for," he commented finally.

He brought his face far too close to hers than was comfortable, but before she could pull away, he'd grabbed both her hands.

"...fine," she managed to say, and tugged her dagger hand out of his grip, stowing the weapon away. She didn't trust him completely yet; that would simply be foolish.

"Your eyes are... really blue," she commented, feeling heat rise to her face, and she yanked her other hand away much more harshly to cover it up.

Having reached success, he pushed himself back further, giving her all the space she could need in the world. He scratched his head sheepishly. After a moment, he apologized for his rash actions, "I'm sorry about that, but I can't afford death. Not yet anyway, too much left unfinished." He sighed, then noticed her last comment to him, though not noticing the blush.

"Ah, yes, I suppose they are. And yours are quite crimson," he gave her a gruff smile, before continuing his trek, clearly believing the Sheikah was done making threats on his life.