(Evane) A unexpected meeting

[Trenton O’Conner]

(my apologies for the quality of this post, for I am completly museless)

The hustle and bustle of what seemed of every man, woman and child of lower social class in England was crowded around booths or every size and quality looking at or selling goods of every variety. Callings of sellers sounded through the air, over the gossip and conversations of weather and crops, luring unknowing beings with coins to spend to buy some item they could live without but the enticement of words claiming miracles from each object caused the coins to leave innocent hands and jump into the purses of the spell binding sellers.
Amongst this chaos was a leanly built figure, clad in black from head to toe with the exception of muddy brown leather boots worn and supple from years of walking in them. The activities and activists seemed not to notice him as he slunk from booth to booth in the shadows of buildings, in a most slinking cat manner. Almost not waning to be seen by anyone. His appearance was a usual one in the Market, but alas no one ever seemed to notice as he slunk behind a prospering carpet seller and but his purse bag from the highly not in fashion belt around his large waist.

[Evane R. Devine]

(OOC-Don't feel bad, my Muse has left me to.)

As usual Evane had been picking the pockets of anyone she could brush past. She looked like a normal woman, dressed in a pair of tight black leggings and a black armor style vest covering a black shirt underneath. Her Red-Orange hair hanging loosely down her back. "Oh Pardon me." She said as she bumped into a man who looked wealthy, smirking to herself as she had swiped his bag of Gold coins, pocketing them and walking past a rather bulky looking fellow. She had no idea this man was a thief, none whatsoever, of course she had smiled to him and dropped a single coin, sort of her way of testing rather or not this guy would either return it, or pocket it.

[Trenton O’Conner]

The presence of the female before him who snatched the purse of coins before he could, caused the thief to frown with disgust at this amateur pick pocket thief. I ought to teach this wench a lesson for takin’ my profit he thought turning his surprised and disgusted expression to that of one of a sly smirk. A shady brow raised as he watched her ‘accidentally’ drop a coin. Always a trick for one thief to another, testing if they would return the coin or take it as their own. He, himself had done this trick many a time to others, just for game though, nothing of important manner.
In almost a grand bowing motion he picked the currency from the ground, straightened and with a great mischievous smile he held the small coin out like a valuable jewel, “I do believe Madame, you dropped this.” Return then take, he thought widening his grin.

[Evane R. Devine]

Evane grabbed the coin the man had handed her and smiled at him, moving her hand toward the sack of coins she had stashed in her pocket. "Thank you kind sir." She said before staring at a group of Ladies walking past. They looked wealthy, probably headed to the Palace or someplace away from here. Should Evane pick there pockets before heading off to find a Carriage to rob? Or shouldn't she? "Kind sir, would you mind telling me what time it was?" She said in a thickly Irish accented voice. She hoped she sounded like an innocent lady, although her other hand was moving for the handle of her Dagger, should she need it.

[Trenton O’Conner]

As the coin was taken from his hand he let his iron filled gaze study the female before him. Something about her was familiar, but he couldn’t quit but his finger on it. Trenton caught her gaze’s direction that was pointed toward a group of Noble’s wives, more than likely by the quality of their clothing and the arrogance they held as they walked by chattering about some local gossip.
The accent in her question made him frown slightly, it was like his, he had taken so long to mask with an English accent just to become less noticeable as a thief. Brow furrowing slightly, the male rogue looked to the sky, estimating the time for he never carried a watch with him, preferring the natural times of the rise and fall of the sun. “Aye, It may not be exact but I think it’s about quarter past noon.” The accent in his voice held the heavy country brogue of his homeland, Ireland.