Reasons

*A/N* So, just a short one this time - I've got a longer one, but there's still like half of it missing and I didn't want to keep you waiting ;) Promts much appreciated.


J. Daniel Atlas loved the stage.

Because, no matter who you were outside the spotlight, on stage you could be whoever you wanted.

There were times when he couldn't stand who he was, but that didn't matter, because with his cards in his hands he didn't have to be this person.

And the transformation of invisible little Danny Atlas into one of the greatest magicians in the world was more magic then he had ever been prepared to believe in.

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Henley Reeves loved the feeling of cold metal on her skin. Handcuffs around her wrists didn't scare her, no, they made her feel even more confident (a mistake the FBI had made more than once).

The best thing about being an escape artist was the freedom that burned through her veins with the heavy chains wrapped around her, which might sound a little paradox, but there was nothing more comforting than the knowledge she could get out of them.

When one had spent so much time feeling like one lived in a cage, getting out of chains, locks, handcuffs and little boxes was the best job in the world.

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Merritt McKinney loved the panicked little spark in people's eyes when they realised he was really going to expose one or two of their little secrets. He loved how they all came to him, expecting they could somehow debunk his trick. But, unlike his colleagues, even though he did use it frequently, he didn't strictly need preparation. With a bit of luck, he could actually guess people's secrets.

Due to how he had been betrayed and robbed of both his money and his dignity by his brother, he just loved to make someone pay for that - even if it was a stranger.

And, to be honest, it was the one thing he was good at, incredibly good, even, and it felt great to be the best.

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Jack Wilder loved the feeling of strange possessions at his fingertips. It wasn't that he wanted to keep them, he just loved that feeling of power, the knowledge he wouldn't be caught.

The kick of adrenaline was better than anything else. He meant no harm by breaking the law (usually, that was), but it just was his thing, it was what he was good at. Breaking locks, pickpocketing, small street tricks. He wasn't a showman like Danny, he had no desire whatsoever to try and get out of a locked water tank and he was spectacularly bad at guessing people's secrets.

No, Jack was a man of small things and in the end, there was no sweeter sound than the clicking of a lock, was there?


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