we must rearrange reality;

[lepetitvoleur]

Date & Time: jan 19 and the week following.
Location: around the hold.
Characters: remy & open.
Summary: teenage thief awakens in post-apocalyptic wasteland and decides to make a profit. or, true life: lost children in exsilium.
Warnings: n/a.

Waking up had been disorienting, to say the least, and as the day wore on the sensation didn’t fade. He thought at first it might be some kind of test, some survival exercise, but it was far too elaborate and far too cold to have come from his family. His next thought was of the Assassins, and the great lengths they’d go to terrorize a Thief, but this was beyond their capability, too. So Remy was forced to admit that this was something far outside his understanding. Once he accepted that, he set to work.

The first day he spends ducking around corners and trying to stay hidden. It’s a mostly futile effort, considering how he’s dressed, and the fact that he knows nothing about the layout of the place he’s in. So he can be found, for the most part, hiding behind doors and darting between shadows. He doesn’t dare venture outdoors, because he’s sure that as soon as he does something horrible will happen, but he does manage to make quite a few rounds of the Hold itself. He’s skittish, when approached, and over-reactive—in fact, most every time he’s found there’s a card in his hand and a glow in his eyes before he stops to say hello.

The second is more adventurous, if not better entirely. Now, the most likely place to find him is swiping food from anywhere he can find it. That means—the shops in the city, the halls of the Hold, and, oh yeah, right out of your hands, if you happen to be in the wrong place at the wrong time. It’s a quick trick, one he’s been doing practically since he could walk, and so he doesn’t expect to be caught. But, then again, the past few days have been full of surprises.

A few days later, and he’s finally exploring the city for more than food raids. He looks ridiculous, wrapped in his older-self’s trench coat, which is far too long for him. He has the sleeves rolled up to the elbows and the thing drags behind him as he walks. He doesn’t seem to mind the rain, much, and moves with the same agility and performance as he always has and always will. But at this age he’s also got a nervous energy, stopping and taking things in, muttering under his breath, and even pausing to stare at passersby.

And so it goes. As the days go on he can be found just about anywhere, picking locks or asking questions, hiding his caginess and fear behind a lot of boyish charm. Feel free to find him wherever you may be, and hope that that doesn’t mean he’s either just blown up the door to your room or stolen the rug out from under your feet.

Comments

[gevurah]

She might not have made out every word spoken just now, but it was enough to alert her in his direction. She doesn't looks just yet, tightening the strap on the boot and then dusting off her pants. She rises finally, taking a few steps and trying to zone in on the noise behind.

[lepetitvoleur]

“Enfer,” he mutters, before clapping a hand over his mouth. He’s used to a chatty kind of secrecy, of being in plain sight but distracting people from what he’s actually doing. A half-day without talking to anyone has made him almost stir-crazy, which explains the talking to himself if not the wisdom of it.

He’s telling himself to turn and run, to find a different path, when he hears footsteps echoing down the opposite hall. And now, he’s effectively trapped, damned both ways.

[gevurah]

She continues her casual walk, almost as if she didn't hear a thing. The Hold is supposed to be safe in theory, but it's possible the Transports they bring in have questionable motives or odd behaviorism. It makes her slightly paranoid-- but a little bit of that is alright. Keeps her on her toes, at least.

Anyway, that's definitely some boy's voice.

"You can come out now."

[lepetitvoleur]

He takes a deep breath, and digs into one of his pockets for a card, just in case. When it’s between his fingers he takes a few steps out towards her, wincing at his bad luck. In his profession—and yes, he’s already got one of those—you didn’t get caught. Doing so was worse than failing.

“Dat an order, madame?”

[gevurah]

It's the eyes that catch her when she turns to get a look at the young face that accompanied that voice. Then it's the obvious accent. Alright, so things have been rather strange today but--

She eyes him closely. How many people have eyes like that?

"Consider it one." She doesn't sway, however. Meanwhile, she searches for a way to phrase the question in her head.

[lepetitvoleur]

He shifts awkwardly, from one foot to the other, when he feels her gaze. Under his gloves, his knuckles are white as his fingers clench around the card. She doesn't look like an evil future time-travelling kidnapper. A vampire, maybe. But not a kidnapper.

"In dat case, I gotta warn you--I don't much like orders."

[gevurah]

Cheeky, she thinks. He really does remind her of Remy. She's even starting to heavily suspect it is him, aged down like many others today. What she hasn't gotten yet is the reason why it's been happening.

Kate doesn't budge again, folding her arms in a vague authoritarian manner. She doesn't look too impressed.

"You don't happen to have a brother, do you? A much older brother?"

[lepetitvoleur]

"Henri?" He blurts out the name and then feels stupid for doing so, though what he's keeping secret he's not really sure. Henri's his adoptive brother, anyway, and not that far in age from him. "He's not here," he says, trying to salvage the situation. "I'd have found 'im, if he was."

[gevurah]

Kate frowns, shaking her head.

"Remy?" she asks without much hesitation.

[lepetitvoleur]

His mouth opens, to say "yes," maybe, but before he does his brows knit dangerously and he takes a half-step back. He lifts the card, and it glows briefly for a moment before he tosses it between them and the ground fissures with the force of the impact--not enough to hurt either of them, but he knows to lift an arm to shield his face.

"...who are you?"

[gevurah]

Kate leaps back a few feet, eyes darting between his Remy's hands and the dents in the floor between them. Her heart rate accelerates and she raises her arms in mock surrender.

"Take it easy," she starts, "I'm a friend. I think." It's the honest truth, anyway.

In spite of the small damage done to the floor, even she's aware if that hits her skin she's going to lose a limb.

[lepetitvoleur]

He's digging into his pockets for more cards, having not yet mastered the art of keeping them readily accessible. He ends up with three between his fingers, the dull glow around them mirrored in his eyes.

"I never seen you before." He's nervous, and so the accent gets thicker. More like the street tongue he picked up before Jean-Luc adopted him.

[gevurah]

Of course he would say that.

"I don't think you would remember right now," she says, purposely vague to hook him in. He'll want to know more, won't he? But she does need to play it careful.

[lepetitvoleur]

"Why not?" He sounds demanding, but the curiosity is there, too. More than anything, his mind wants some explanation for all of this, to make it all click into place.

[gevurah]

She doesn't inch back nor does she move forward. False movement is a bad idea given how on edge he may be already.

"Something's going on." Her brows furrow, grasping for the words to explain. "Some people started showing up looking younger or older and not remembering this place. We've met before."

[lepetitvoleur]

His brow furrows as he tries to make sense of what she's saying. It's pretty far beyond his scope of understanding, despite him liking to think of himself as fairly open-minded. He pauses, and then his mouth opens like he's going to say something. In those few moments the energy releases from the cards, dissipating quietly, because his control over them is far from complete at this age.

"I was older?" he asks, finally. And then: "We're friends?" His teenage heart, still beholden to Belladonna, can't think of anything beyond that, which is probably for the best.

[gevurah]

She initially didn't want to dumb down her own speech and make it seem as if she was trying to humor Remy or insult him. She knows from experience how much that used to annoy her when she caught onto it.

Catching the energy subsiding, she straightens her posture and lowers her arms. "That's right. You don't know where you are right now, yes?"

[lepetitvoleur]

"I'm figurin' it out," he says, now suddenly defensive. He crosses his arms over his chest and gives her the most petulant of looks. "An' from the looks a it, no one else has much idea, either."

[gevurah]

She shakes her head, offering a bit of a sympathetic look.

"You're in a place called Exsilium," she lets that hang for a moment. "It's in another world." And she stops there to allow that to sink in. If he lets it.

[lepetitvoleur]

He blinks, once and then a second time. He's heard all kinds of stories, been taught to believe more than most. Still, being confronted with it as truth is slightly different than maybe believing such things happen elsewhere. He swallows, and then nods, chin jutting up defiantly.

"You from somewhere else too, den?"

[gevurah]

Since he appears to be hearing her out, she takes a casual step forward to close some of the awkward distance between them.

"Right. Many people here in this building-- the Hold-- are from different worlds."

[lepetitvoleur]

He eyes her carefully, but doesn't move away. He leans into the wall, one hand against it as though for balance--but he's really got another motive in mind, figuring he can blow the whole thing if something he doesn't like happens. In reality, this is a horrible plan, because it'll take him more than a few seconds to charge the wall itself. But he's never tried on anything so big, and so assumes he knows how his own powers work. Spoilers: he does not.

"Worlds... Like--fairy worlds, or Hell?" He says, blandly. He's not disbelieving, just skeptical. And then, more cautiously, "What's your name, anyway?"

[gevurah]

Kate lets out a vaguely amused snort and shakes her head again. "Definitely not Hell," she states. "I'm Kate."

[lepetitvoleur]

"Enchantée de faire votre connaissance," he mutters, as though he's reciting a lesson. Then, after a cough, "I mean-- nice ta meet you."

[gevurah]

A brief yet airy laugh follows. Either he's trying to play it cool or he really did warm up to her fast. Whichever it is, she's just glad he's not blowing up more cards in her face.

"Have you spoken to anyone else?" she asks. Maybe someone else has tried to give him the general spiel.