London 1852
"There! Get 'er!"
Ven glanced behind her then ran faster.
Stupid stupid stupid! How had she let herself get caught! She was a pickpocket for god sake.
She ran on. She knew this city like the back of her hand. She darted down an alley and shimmied up the drain pipe. She now ran along the rooftops, jumping from one to the other.
Ven was about five foot six, with long black hair and mismatched blue and brown eyes. She was strong and fast.
Finally, she came to the house she wanted.
She vaulted into the chimney and slid all the way down to the bottom, exiting out of the fireplace and into the room.
The noises faded and she collapsed into a dusty old arm chair.
"Did I catch you at the wrong moment?"
She was up in a split second, long dagger drawn.
"Oh is that how you greet a client?" A man stepped out of the shadows. She put her dagger away.
"I told you Clide, I'll have your ring back by Thursday," she said. Clide shook his head.
"That's not good enough," he said. She straightened to her full height (which was only five six or so)
"Do you want it or not? I'll get it to you by Thursday," she said angrily.
"Do you want me to turn you in? I know where you live," Clide threatened. Instead of being afraid, Ven laughed.
"Fool! Do you really think this is where I actually live?" She asked incredulously. "Thursday."
She sat back down, though her hand strayed to the dagger.
"Pity, I was hoping you would be smart," he said with a sigh.
She stood and turned to see three men there. She smirked.
"Idiots." She threw something at two of them and then darted into the chimney. She pulled herself up quickly, hand over hand. The sleeping powder would have two of the men out for at least five hours.
It was the work of a moment to get out of the chimney onto the roof and grab the rope. She hauled it up and slung it over her shoulder.
Running again. At least she'd caught her breath. It only took her a few moments to reach her other safe house. She sat and caught her breath.
No more running for a while. Please?
Unknown Location
"Tell him we found the one he's looking for," the cloaked figure said to the boy in front of him.
"Where exactly is she?" He asked.
"A different realm."
"What else should I tell him?"
"Tell him…tell him that she may be difficult."
"Is that all?"
"Yes. Go."
The cloaked figure gazed out on the water.
"I know he'll succeed," the figure said.
"Peter Pan never fails…"
Abandoned Building Lot
Ven studied the man in front of her.
"That's it?" She asked. "A little chest with the De Noir coat of arms from an antique shop?"
The man before her nodded. "Aye, I want it by tomorrow. Don't open it. It is for my eyes alone."
"Don't look?" She asked musingly. "Fine. But half in advance."
The man nodded. He pulled out a little sack of gold and placed it in her outstretched hand.
"I'll deliver the merchandise to you tomorrow," she said.
Ven swung up a drain pipe onto a rooftop…and was gone.
***Ven***
Ven lay on the dusty old couch in the abandoned house she called home. She turned pages to a worn to tatters story book.
It was a book of what other people would call fairytales. But she knew they were real.
At night she would have dreams of a beautiful black haired woman. She was sure that it was her mother. Who else could it be? But the image was always fuzzy, so she couldn't really make out who it was.
She knew these were real. She knew with all her heart. And she believed.
She may not be the most innocent of hearts, but she was the truest believer in her mind.
Her only comfort now, was the book. She'd grown up in an orphan home, over and over she would run away, but she'd always be brought back. Eventually she ran away for good, became a pickpocket.
She'd always been alone. And she'd grown up depending on one person. Herself.
But even through all of that, her one comfort, and the one ever-present thing in her life, was her belief in magic, and fairytales. She didn't know why she believed, she just knew that it was the one thing that never left her.
She closed the book and slipped it into her satchel, along with her rope, money, and tools. Whenever she did a job, she always had her stuff. Just incase she had to skiddaddle off to another safe house, or if her safe house was compromised.
Right now, she had to get the little chest thingy for whats-his-face.
She slipped out and hurried through the streets to the shop. The shop had pretty good security, rotating guards, tripwires, a few other things.
First, she took out all the guards with the sleeping powder, then picked the lock on the door and slipped inside.
She stopped. Chest high was a little wire. She ducked under and continued in. The owner was asleep in an armchair.
She reached into the medium sized pouch at her side and sprinkled a little powder in his face. He'd be out for a long while.
Ven searched the shop. No De Noir coat of arms.
She knew there was only about an hour left till the guard relief came, so she had to hurry.
She searched yet still couldn't find anything. If it was so special, it might not be on display. Or it was hidden.
She went behind the counter again.
Creak!
She smiled, stepping down again.
Creak!
Cliché.
She pried the floorboard up and looked underneath.
There was a little chest with the De Noir coat of arms.
She smirked and took it out. The chest was only fist sized. She slipped it into her satchel. She exited the shop and climbed to one of the adjacent rooftops.
The wind whipped around in her hair as she gazed out onto the city of London. She took off across her roof-bridge.
Suddenly, something slammed into her. She went flying. Literally.
The thing picked her up and she rose into the air. She slashed her dagger on whatever held her. She fell to the roof, her dagger slid off and to the streets. The thing was…oh god. It was just a shadow. Nothing else. She scrambled backwards, then picked herself up and ran as it chased after her.
She hooked her grappler rope to the edge of the building and slid down. A shake dislodged the rope. She snatched up her dagger and kept on running.
She wasn't fast enough. The shadow grabbed her and rose into the air with alarming speed.
Pretty soon, the shadow letting go would mean falling to her death. She sighed and sheathed her dagger. Her rope was still all messed up.
She rolled it up and put it in her satchel, then crossed her arms and waited.