Billie Lurk (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
lurkin) wrote in ![[community profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/community.png)
rackofbadcds2013-05-16 04:13 pm
lurkin) wrote in rackofbadcds2013-05-16 04:13 pm
Entry tags:
so regal and decadent here, coffin cheaters dance on their graves
Floating lights saturated the Boyle estate's grounds in gold. The garden matched the bright colors with roses in every color they could be. Billie Lurk liked roses. She also liked animals. But it took every but of willpower she had not to roll her eyes at every over-the-top thing or person her eyes met. At least the guards felt the same way, judging from their boredom. Billie wished she could commiserate with them. But tonight she couldn't. Tonight she was a Lady, and she was waiting for a certain assassin out by the grounds.
Aloof as Billie was with her fellow Whalers, she wouldn't be caught literally dead by her comrades in what she was wearing now. Her red whaler's overcoat had been replaced by a soft ruffled jacket with a crisper, whiter version of her usual buttoned undershirt. Her mask was gone too, makeup hiding the circles under her eyes. Her charcoal hair was short enough, but tonight one side was swept back with a jeweled flower pin. Billie already knew what nobles liked to look like, but she picked up a few extra things studying the women in the shops she went to a few days ago. She remembered wondering if the smell of blood could have seeped into her skin. Wondering if the the attendants that fussed over the fashion sense of a common-looking woman with a lot of coin could smell it.
Damn. The soft, feminine thing? Slum-born Billie Lurk could do that, if she had to. She did her homework and blended in well. But that didn't mean she gave a shit about it. Nor was she used to it. At all.
So it's little wonder why she didn't talk to anyone. She decided it was just easier to study the red-bricked mansion as people came and went by her. Some complimented her. She didn't answer them either.
- - - - - - - - -
Billie would never get far enough away to ever be able to call Dunwall a distant memory. She didn't want to, either. Despite everything, the Outsider hadn't lied. Billie Lurk had no regrets. She missed her old life in Dunwall. The city had gone to shit, but being an assassin gave her a purpose. She still kept her old mask and whaling uniform to remind her. But she knew she couldn't go back now. At least she had her old dreams, born from listening to the stories old sailors would tell a curious little girl who often wandered the docks.
It was a bright morning. The assassin dressed and stepped outside. Billie still didn't have that ship yet, but she was working on it. It hadn't been THAT long since she left Dunwall. The docks weren't far from her home. In a blink (huhuhuhuhuhuh) she vanished and reappeared on her room. Careful that no one saw her, she dissapeared and reappeared from roof to roof until she meandered out of an alley and into the harbor.
Wandering docks and greeting ships. Just like when she was a girl.
Aloof as Billie was with her fellow Whalers, she wouldn't be caught literally dead by her comrades in what she was wearing now. Her red whaler's overcoat had been replaced by a soft ruffled jacket with a crisper, whiter version of her usual buttoned undershirt. Her mask was gone too, makeup hiding the circles under her eyes. Her charcoal hair was short enough, but tonight one side was swept back with a jeweled flower pin. Billie already knew what nobles liked to look like, but she picked up a few extra things studying the women in the shops she went to a few days ago. She remembered wondering if the smell of blood could have seeped into her skin. Wondering if the the attendants that fussed over the fashion sense of a common-looking woman with a lot of coin could smell it.
Damn. The soft, feminine thing? Slum-born Billie Lurk could do that, if she had to. She did her homework and blended in well. But that didn't mean she gave a shit about it. Nor was she used to it. At all.
So it's little wonder why she didn't talk to anyone. She decided it was just easier to study the red-bricked mansion as people came and went by her. Some complimented her. She didn't answer them either.
- - - - - - - - -
Billie would never get far enough away to ever be able to call Dunwall a distant memory. She didn't want to, either. Despite everything, the Outsider hadn't lied. Billie Lurk had no regrets. She missed her old life in Dunwall. The city had gone to shit, but being an assassin gave her a purpose. She still kept her old mask and whaling uniform to remind her. But she knew she couldn't go back now. At least she had her old dreams, born from listening to the stories old sailors would tell a curious little girl who often wandered the docks.
It was a bright morning. The assassin dressed and stepped outside. Billie still didn't have that ship yet, but she was working on it. It hadn't been THAT long since she left Dunwall. The docks weren't far from her home. In a blink (huhuhuhuhuhuh) she vanished and reappeared on her room. Careful that no one saw her, she dissapeared and reappeared from roof to roof until she meandered out of an alley and into the harbor.
Wandering docks and greeting ships. Just like when she was a girl.
<333333
A Look tossed her way for that. ] It's easy money.
I don't like it, either. [ A small step forwards again, spotting the staircase they'll be using, concluding it's a fitting distance to transverse to, instead. A falter, marked hand hovering half raised. ] Anything else?
Re: <333333
Alright.
[Said faintly exasperative. She stepped back in.]
Nothing but the usual way. [Once they were out of the crowd, they could stealth as much as they wanted to.]
no subject
It was easy coin, and maybe it was simple as that. Maybe there was something else in all this too; that sort of half attempt at thinking ahead when deep in the recesses of your mind you know your end is coming.
You've been warned of as much, but you don't know what sort of end. Or if the end meant the dark lapping waves of the Void, or just the end of a time.
Given his wicked past, he doubted it would be the latter. So maybe the coin was to affirm something. To save up, or divide a greater share to his whalers.
He wasn't going to divulge that; he wasn't good at that sort of thing, as it were.
The guard positioned at the door, with two pillars denoting a no-entry for any guest, will be the first to go down. He trusts his second will take care of the other.
With a smooth jump - a breath of time hardly lost - he has the guard in a firm choke hold until the surprised flinch of a fight recedes with the loss of air and conscience. ]
no subject
When she was sure no one else was looking, the assassin vanished behind Daud and the first guard, and was ready to meet the second guard as he came down. In the second's bewildered confusion, she dissapear again, this time reappearing behind him. Her arms went around his neck, and she choked him out too.]
no subject
By the time to second goes down, he's already nimbly snapping up the key, and pivoting towards the door it is meant to open. ] We'll be gone before anyone knows it.
( ooc: WHAT IF THEY i dunno walked into a room where the Boyle's once held that seance thing thalia mentions? and there was a brigmore witch. just to screw around i dont know we dont have to just an idea :3 )
no subject
[The guard tried to put up a fight--thankfully a quiet one--but Billie had a firm hold on the man. It didn't take long for his struggling hands to finally, slowly lower down as he struggled not to lose consciousness. Obviously, he lost.
Billie lowered her guard (literally) as she looked up at Daud. Her carefully pinned hair was ruffled when the guard was flailing his arms behind him. She didn't care, for now, but she'd have to fix it later. ... It was weird remembered that she was going to have to care later, too.
Oh, well. She nods.]
As usual.
[With the guards out, Billie "blinks" to Daud's side.]