thecapitol | She has to pick-a-pocket or two -ooo, she has to pick-a-pocket or two.

WHO| Eponine and OPEN
WHAT|Eponine's ran out of money on the credit card thingy and she's quite got the taste for the high life, soooooooooooo she's supplementing herself the best way she knows how. Which means you guys (and Capitol citizens) might find their pockets a wee bit lighter. Or you can just catch her at it. Either or.
WHEN| Around five days after the tributes are given their credit cards.
WHERE| Central The streets of the Capitol.
WARNINGS/NOTES| Pickpocketing and thieving abound. I suppose if your character's natural reaction is to swear. I dunno. It's completely up to you if you catch her!
Cut for length

Eponine has mixed feelings about this new life in this strange place. The natural citizens of the place remind her of the 'lovely ladies' she'd see at home in the parks, which she finds strange. And of course, there is the whole idea that people want to kill her for entertainment. Death as entertainment she can understand; did the crowds not flock to the guillotine in Paris? But her death? And her continued ressurection to be reslaughtered in thenastiest of conditions? Eponine had decided that she'd rather face her father and his gang five times over than go back to the arena. She was a lowlife and a petty criminal, but she was not that low and she would not sink to that level.

On the other hand, though, Eponine loved the decadence of the city, with it's bright colours and rich foods and sumptuous materials. She had clothes, strange clothes, and people fussing over her and as much food as she wanted. It was like being in heaven. And she longed to properly belong to the Capitol.

She certainly had the spending down to a t. Eponine had spent her whole allowance within five days of being given it, something which she regretted. Had she not meant to save it so that she could take it home? It was a problem indeed, but one Eponine knew how to solve. As she walked through the streets, easily noticeable in a long skirt and reasonably modest blouse, she slipped her hand into the pocket of a Capitol man, withdrawing a small wallet, which she pocketed quickly. Again and again, she pounced, choosing her targets carefully.

And again and again, she was foiled at the last moment. Sighing, Eponine turned a corner. This street was busier, and she'd be less obvious. Carefully, she moved on silent feet towards the nearest person not paying attention. You. She considered carefully, before slipping her hand into the pocket where she saw the biggest bulge.

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

"Uh-huh. Somebody pushed your hand right into my pocket." Neeshka smirked at Eponine, looking her over with curiosity. One of the other Tributes, wasn't she? Interesting to know there were two thieves around.

She couldn't resist a little bragging, in that case. She was sure she was a better thief than this kid, anyway. "I know all the tricks, and that one? A really bad one. At least to use on me."

Eponine returned the curious look, though she bristled at the slur at her 'talents'.

"Oh yeah? So why is it so bad to use on you? I've got a lot of catches with that one. I bet you don't know ANY tricks."

Eponine's ashamed of knowing the tricks of a good theft, if she's honest with herself, but she'd be damned if she was going to show that to this girl.

"Who are you, anyway?"

"Neeshka, Tribute from District Five." Neeshka stuck her hand out cheerfully enough, aiming for a handshake, now that she had her scolding of the other girl out of the way. "And I was the best thief in Neverwinter, I'll have you know."

Eponine eyed her warily for a moment, before putting her hand to Neeshka's and shaking.

"Eponine, Madame. They say it is District Three I fight for. But... what is Neverwinter? I have never heard of such a place."

Neeshka had a pretty good grip-- not overly strong, but then, strength was not her best attribute. But she still had a good handshake. You know, for a part-demon who made her living by stealing things. "It's a big city on the Sword Coast."

She paused, glancing around, and admitted, "Maybe not as big as this city. But still very big. I guess since we're all from different worlds or planes of existence or something, though, you won't have heard of it."

Well, for a half starved street child, Eponine had a reasonable grip too, and she shook hands, pulling Neeshka's hand down hard and fast, just the once, before letting go.

"I have never heard of Sword Coast... I am from Paris, but... people here tell me I am from their past. I suppose this is a magical place, that these people have magic that have brought us here. I never believed in magic before... I like it here - when we are not fighting. Do you?"

"And I've never heard of Paris, either. Oh, well." Neeshka shrugged the whole thing off, and rather prudently, she thouoght, tucked her hands into her pockets. It helped keep them warm, too. "I do kinda like it here. I mean, they feed us awesome food, give us nice beds and magical heading and cool are when you need it, and all you have to do is kill people! Who then come back to live all healed up, no scars or anything, so there's no point in even feeling bad about it!"

Not that Neeshka really seemed the type to feel too bad about it. She was, after all, a Faerun adventurer. She'd done a lot of killing-- orcs and zombies especially, but there'd been plenty of human cultists and guards and such in there, too.

"Do you not mind the killing, then?"

Eponine, by the horrified expression on her face, clearly does. She crosses her arms over her skinny waist, hugging herself tight. She's obviously uncomfortable.

"That is something I do not want to do. I will do a lot, Madame... but I don't want to kill anybody."

"Not really. I've had more than enough people trying to kill me, that I'm used to defending myself." Neeshka shrugged again, this time more deliberately, consciously shrugging off her past again, like always. "The horns and tail tend to, you know, make people want to burn me at the stake or impale me on pitchforks or something like that."

Still, that wasn't really important anymore, was it? Nobody here had any designs on stakes in piles of wood and she doubted anyone knew what a pitchfork was actually for, much less had one. "But if you don't want to kill anybody," she continued, more cheerfully, "then you can just get really good at hiding, I suppose. It won't last you forever, but it'll last you a while. And then you'll just come back again!"

Eponine considers. She's not very clued up on the bible, though she does have the vague idea that the devil has horns and a tail, as well as hooves and a pitchfork.

"Shouldn't you be impaling people on pitchforks? Though... is the devil not red? Or was it black? I have seen a lot of pictures, but it was a long, long time ago. I thought the devil was a man, too?"

She frowns, out of pure concentration. "Are you really the devil? - wait, hiding, Madame?"

Eponine smiles. "I did that last time. I hid in a ditch for over a week, but I was so hungry, I had to go back, and that was when I was killed, you know? I would rather just stay here, though. It would be better, instead of having no food again."

"No, I'm not really the devil," Neeshka said, rolling her eyes. "My grandpa was a Fiend, I guess, but I never met him." That she knew of, anyway. She had a suspicion or two about that one guy they met back on her world, but then, she wasn't about to go making accusations. Especially when she wasn't likely to ever see him again.

"But I am kind of red," she added, sticking to talking about herself. "I mean, my hair is, and I've got these spots here--" She flicked a finger at her forehead and the ruddy mottling there. "I'm more red than you are, so I guess that kind of counts, right?"

A fiend? Eponine doesn't understand what that is, but she believes Neeshka at least, when the - can Eponine still call her a girl? A woman? - girl says she isn't the devil.

"Did you always look like this then? It is not the additions that these people have made?"

She looks at Neeshka critically as she points out the reddish tones, and busts into a laugh.

"I do not know. Perhaps colour doesn't matter. I have been called an angel before now, and a devil as well. But it is all the same to me. So what the hell; we must carry on and live as well as we can."

"You're just human," Neeshka snorted lightly. "Whoever was calling you those other things doesn't know what he's talking about. But yeah, I was born like this. A tiefling. Part demon, cursed one, hellborn, you know the drill, I'm sure. Kind of got me in trouble, being a little kid with horns and all, but it could be worse."

She stepped over to Eponine and slung an arm around her shoulders, intending to lead her out of the crowded street. "Come on. Let's get some drinks and we can share tricks of the trade, or something. I haven't talked to another thief in forever."

She didn't know the drill, actually. She had no idea what Neeshka was talking about, but she didn't want to look unintelligent. And so Eponine nodded.

"There is nothing wrong being a human...is there?"

Well, the embrace was the last thing she had expected, and Eponine stiffened automatically as Neeshka put her arm over Eponine's shoulder. But she loosened up when she realised that was all Neeshka was planning on doing. Eponine followed Neeshka quite willingly, still unsure of where she was going in this strange city.

"Are you proud to be a thief then, Madame? You speak of it as if it is a good thing to do."

She has to pick-a-pocket or two -ooo, she has to pick-a-pocket or two.

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