For several, long seconds: Garrett didn't move, glaring at the empty space the strange woman had vanished through with no small amount of contempt. When he first spotted her lounging atop the crates without a care, his first thought was that she was new to the profession and wouldn't last long. Such things happened often: someone didn't get their way or was forced to the streets and took to Larceny: often being found hanging from The Gallows within a week. However, as he swooped through the shadows towards Basso, he couldn't help but notice how she subtly twitched with his every step and had kept her gaze on him: never letting him out of her sight, and never moving from her position.
Regardless of her relaxed pose: she was quite aware of his position and each step he took, no matter how quiet he was. No matter how slowly he moved, his shifting weight still made his presence known to those who knew the sound of a Thief's footsteps: something she clearly excelled at. Once he caught her gaze, he'd be a liar if he said he wasn't surprised by the pair of striking, almond-shaped, emerald eyes, thick, dark lashes and fiery curls watching him like a Hawk as he made his way to Basso: the playful glint reflecting back at him distantly reminding him of the looks Erin would give him whenever they would be tasked with a Job together.
However, as he took in the state of her garb (which infuriatingly reflected his own), he noted the well-worn and dusty appearance of her leathers and tattered cloth: completely broken in and had possibly seen years of use, she definitely wasn't new to the game, either. Instead of using a bow or a club like his 'Blackjack', she opted for a grappling hook and a well-made leather whip that quite frankly, brought back memories that he'd rather not revisit as he removed his gaze and focused it on the rest of her appearance. Judging by the higher quality of the material of her garb, she obviously made good coin doing whatever it was she did: and judging by the quality of the necklace Basso was inspecting, she seemed to have quite the eye for finery and craftsmanship: a rarity that not many Thieves possessed anymore.
He'd also noticed through the dark charcoal: the faded, white line of a scar in the flickering candlelight that cut vertically through her right eyebrow and descended over her eye: disappearing beneath her mask and out of his keen gaze, leaving him to briefly wonder how she obtained it before she shifted positions: drawing his gaze to her faded, well-worn corset and the dozen or so Burlap pouches attached to the clasps with string. What was in them, he could only guess: however, judging by the way they were colored, left him with the suspicion that each color signified the pouch's level of danger or potency. Taking in the rest of her details, he noticed just how well-endowed and muscular she was: appearing just a few inches shorter than himself at 5'3, with a voice and wit that could easily charm the unwary, curvaceous, lean and no-doubt lovely beneath her garb, it was obvious she trained hard and didn't have a useless muscle in her body and definitely wasn't one to take lightly, she definitely looked the part.
However, as soon as introductions were made: he made no attempt at hiding his disgust, and he'd also be lying if her reaction didn't spur a spark of amusement in him. 'The Nightingale': a Thief that was just as much of an Enigma in The City as he was, one that had no form or face: one that targeted anyone with anything valuable or shiny: and always leaving a single black feather on the windowsills of the Victimized. Such an action was baffling and downright idiotic to Garrett: if she was good enough to not be caught or seen, why go out of her way to leave proof of her presence? It made no sense, either she was THAT confident in her skills…or she really didn't care who knew if she was there or not.
In either case, he dreaded Erin and this woman, 'Rayne', ever meeting one another: the very thought bringing forth the early throbs of a headache he had no intention of becoming reality if he had anything to say about it. Still, she could hold an impressive glare and wasn't intimidated by him in the slightest: in which case he wasn't sure if her reaction was due to the stories that Basso doubtlessly told her, or he was underestimating her: something he very rarely did, if at all. One thing was clear: she had no reason to fear him, nor he her: and that fact was both a blessing and a curse, especially due to the sarcastic sense of humor they both seemed to share.
However, it was clear from the moment she learned who he was that she at least respected the fact that he'd earned his title and reputation in The City, and hadn't boasted about her apparent skills like his reckless Protégé was fond of doing at the worst of times. This, he noted: was at least one thing that made her different from Erin, but no less intolerable: especially with her obviously-short temper and how easily angered she became as soon as her 'skills' came into question: yet another reason he dreaded a meeting between her and his Protégé, they were so much alike that it wouldn't be long before a fight broke out between them. He'd also noticed how quickly she'd complied with Basso's request to step down as the tensions between them rose: at least the girl has the ability to listen, which clearly shows her respect for his Fence, making him briefly wonder how long the two had known each other: and if their relationship was similar to the Boxman's and his own: friendly, yet professional, before quickly deciding it would be something to ask Basso at a later time.
Taking mental notes, he watched how she announced her departure and leapt from the crate she was sitting on and climbed through the window with such grace and stealth, that even he had trouble hearing her leave: a fact that set his nerves on edge, especially if she decided Thieving wasn't enough and chose the Assassin's path instead, a thought that immediately labeled her as 'dangerous' in his mind: leaving him unwilling to show his back to the window or remove his mask, even once it was clear that she was already long-gone from The Burrick. Watching Basso out of the corner of his eye, he couldn't say he was surprised when his Fence ran a tired, bandaged hand down his face with a sigh that bordered between exasperation and annoyance before walking behind his desk and glanced at his ledgers.
"Well, that could've gone better." he remarked dryly, reaching up and stroking Jenever's feathers: the man loved that Magpie more than anything in the world and cared more for her than he did himself more often than not. "Any particular reason you introduced me to that…Amateur?" Garrett inquired, knowing full-well the stories of The Nightingale were anything but, however: he also knew how exaggerated and warped stories became over time, and would be saving his opinions for himself: if he ever had the misfortune of seeing her again. "Ah, that was the reason I called you. I've got something special in the works that the two of you would excel at: the Client for this…particular Gig should have the details handed over to me within the next few nights. She personally requested the two of you by title, and would only accept the best of the bunch to get it done." Basso replied, causing him to narrow his eyes harshly at his Fence: who gave him a sheepish look and half-hearted shrug in return.
"You know I work alone, Basso." he snarled, feeling his oncoming headache return with a vengeance at the very thought of being sent on a Heist with Rayne: if his suspicions were correct about her and her ways, he'd sooner work with Erin. "So does she, however, the place is supposed to contain two items the Client wants: which is why I'm sending her with you, not just because the Client requested it." Basso explained, not bothered in the least by his annoyance as he returned his silver pen to its matching ink bottle and looked over at him with a knowing smirk: he was enjoying this FAR too much. "I'm a Thief Basso, not a Babysitter. Why is she even involved in this next Job when I can just as easily do it myself without her getting in my way?" Garrett questioned harshly, narrowing his eyes in suspicion as his Fence held up a bandaged finger and reached under his desk and pulled out a piece of ragged-looking parchment after fumbling with the cluttered mess for several seconds.
"This is why. The items the Client wants are located in the Manor of Thadeus Harlan in Greystone Plaza: one supposedly locked away somewhere in his wife's private rooms on the upper north side, the other in the General's private study. According to the Client, the best time to pay that place a visit would be during his wife's Promotion Party: supposed to be one of those High-End 'Nobles' Galas' or something of the like." he replied, pointing to each location on the hand-drawn map of the inner layout of the Manor. Well, that explained everything: General of The Watch, Thadeus Harlan, recently-titled 'The Thief-Taker General': was a man who was notorious for having an unhealthy obsession for hunting Thieves and thoroughly-enjoyed tormenting those beneath him as The Baron's personal Hound: even going so far as ruthlessly killing his own men for the slightest error and feeding their corpses to the Dogs without a second thought.
"They're on opposite sides of the Manor, and I suppose there will be patrolling Guards?" he stated, already knowing the answer to that question, in which case he supposed Basso was right in that particular regard: going in alone would be suicide, even for someone like him: and if he didn't trust Basso like he did, he'd call the whole thing a bad idea and refuse the Job: especially if a stranger like Rayne was involved. "From what I understand, The General's bringing in his absolute best to guard these Nobles during their fancy party. Luckily for you, Rayne's very good at what she does: knows every nook and cranny of every important building in The City. If anyone's going to get you in there and back out again without being seen and unscathed, it'll be her." Basso continued, drawing a snort from Garrett as he rolled his eyes at the thought: his Fence had too much faith in this girl, and would surely pay dearly for it if he wasn't careful.
"I don't need anyone to get me through places." he stated, and though his words came out strong: his logic and reason were beginning to outweigh his pride, and though he hated to admit it: Basso had never lied to him and would only suggest a partner if he truly believed he needed one. If she was only there to do her half of the Job and not get them both killed by doing anything reckless or stupid: it wouldn't be such a hindrance, as long as she didn't try to turn on him: in which case she wouldn't be around long enough to regret it, regardless of his personal rules. "She's been through the Manor before, smuggled me some of the Good Stuff from The General's personal stock on more than one occasion: might even ask her to bring some back, now that I think about it." he added, causing Garrett to snap out of his thoughts and raise an eyebrow in response, before reluctantly deciding that he could at least tolerate her presence on this Job: hoping he wouldn't end up regretting it later, for her sake.
"Just this once, Basso. I work alone. Next time, don't involve anyone else in my Jobs without informing me first. Last thing I need is an Amateur bringing The Watch down on me in the middle of a Heist." Garrett warned, sparing his Fence a harsh glance from over his shoulder before turning on his heel and made to take his leave through the same window he'd entered from. "Sorry about that, it was kind of a last-minute thing: I'll be sure to send Jenivere when I know the exact details of the Gig." Basso replied, handing said Bird a treat: only to pull his hand away with a yelp and a growl as he received yet another painful 'nip' from the Magpie. "And Garrett." he suddenly called, causing him to pause midway out the window and glance at him out of the corner of his eye.
"Try not to be too harsh on her, that personality of hers might take some getting used to: but Rayne's a good sort. If you do decide to go looking for her, last I heard she's cozying up at the old Lighthouse between Southport and Eastport. Have some confidence in her, and she'll do right by you." Basso said, receiving no verbal reply as Garrett hesitated for a second before vanishing like the Ghost he was and slipped out of The Burrick before quickly taking to The Thieves' Highway, making his way back to The Clock Tower just as the first rays of dawn began bleeding on the horizon. Leaping down from the shadowed roof of an unnamed townhouse, he quietly took cover behind a cart and waited patiently for the pair of sleepy, patrolling Guards to pass him, glad that avoiding the Watchmen at this time of morning was child's play to him, and didn't have to try very hard to avoid them.
As he swooped around their dimming torches and bonfires while crossing streets and back alleys, he managed to snatch himself a loaf of cooling bread from an unguarded windowsill as he made his way across the small, wooden bridge and back up the unsteady scaffolding of The Clock Tower with a practiced ease that didn't so much as disturb the dangerous structures before slipping in through the window. Upon entering his abode, he found solace in the familiar sounds of the ticking Clock and grinding gears as he made his way over to where he kept his own personal collection, picking at the warm, fluffy bread as he went: looking the gold, jewels, historical plaques and paintings over with a critical eye: but not really seeing, as he felt his thoughts drift.
It was obvious his Fence had a soft spot for The Nightingale, and while he wasn't even remotely close to being jealous of this fact: he couldn't help but briefly wonder why Basso waited this long to introduce them, before his mind quickly took him back to their less-than-favorable first encounter and he knew why. Garrett was a jaded Loner by nature: cynical and sarcastic, never letting anyone close and preferred it that way: friends meant attachments, attachments meant weaknesses: something he couldn't afford in his line of work. And judging by his earlier impression of Rayne: he'd noticed she carried a similar stance in her form: well-hidden beneath her playful and sarcastic attitude, she played her cards tight to her chest and kept her secrets close.
That at least, he could respect, as he did the same: even going so far as appearing sinister in both appearance and demeanor to those who didn't know him, and he preferred it that way instead of the alternative: let the people think what they wanted, not like their opinions changed anything. That being said, he shoved any further thoughts of his Fence and Rayne's potential relationship out of his mind: focusing instead on planning his routes, actions and reactions once he'd entered the Manor. The Manor itself was built like a maze of wood and stone, judging by Basso's map: full of twists, turns and hidden corridors that could hold not only plenty of items to fill his pockets with: but also, plenty of places to station Guards and traps. If Rayne had been through the place before, then she was admittedly going to be his best bet when it came to planning routes and which areas to avoid.
It seemed that Luck wasn't in his favor today: having the misfortune of dealing with The Nightingale twice in as many days, but he also knew it couldn't be helped if she was as helpful as Basso claimed. While he didn't need anyone's help in completing Jobs, Garrett also wasn't foolish enough to refuse suggestions if they proved useful in avoiding confrontation and unnecessary attention to his profession. As he finished his bread, he couldn't help but dread his inevitable meeting with the strange, and potentially-dangerous Thief: and while her actions and reputation labeled her as yet another Ghost in The City, his instincts told him to be wary, regardless of what Basso said.
For being as silent as he'd observed, he knew it wouldn't take much for her to gain the upper hand in conflict if she decided to become an Assassin and turn on him for his Bounty: especially when Garrett himself wasn't much for direct combat. Regardless of what Basso told him, he'd have to tread lightly and keep his blind-spots well-guarded until he was sure of her intentions: something every good Thief should express, especially in the presence of someone new and unpredictable. With that decided, he brushed the crumbs from his gloves and trousers and stalked up the stairs towards the dusty window he used for a door. Taking in the sights of The City as it began to wake in the early dawn, he glanced to the horizon and in the direction of the border between Southport and Eastport and couldn't help but admit that perhaps that old, stone Lighthouse wasn't a bad place to claim.
While old and crumbling, it was foreboding and daunting to most and also had the advantage of being close to the Docks: giving any Thief in the area the opportunity to get first pickings from the ships that frequently visited the island. And Garrett could see how smuggling items from said ships to well-paying Clients would be tempting and enticing, as even he was tempted to sweep through the cargo on occasion. While not among his preferred Targets, the Trading Ships imported nearly all of The City's items and goods from far off countries: from the freshest food, to the rarest gemstones and gold: no doubt well-guarded and under constant surveillance, something he'd admit was unexpected and risky of someone like her.
But then again, what was Larceny to a Thief without a little risk? It seemed taking risks was another trait she seemed to have in common with him, and hoped it wouldn't end up getting them both killed during this upcoming Job, especially if her skills weren't as keen as her reputation made them out to be. Thinking back on it, perhaps it was a bad idea to challenger her, especially once he'd learned they'd be working together on this next Heist: for all he knew, she'd follow Erin's footsteps and let that challenge go to her head and would end up doing something reckless or stupid and would end up getting them both caught, or worse. In which case, he'd have no qualms with leaving the Amateur to deal with her fatal mistake and complete the Job himself: she wasn't his Protégé or his problem, let her handle herself.
If The Nightingale's reputation preceded her, however, he knew she'd be just as professional as he would, with minimal to no mistakes: but Garrett still wasn't willing to bet his survival on it until he'd judged her for himself, especially when he'd never worked with her before. "Just what the hell have you gotten me into, Basso?" he asked himself, trying in vain to rub away his throbbing headache as his mind came up with hundreds of different scenarios that could go horribly wrong because he'd put his faith in a stranger like Rayne. Garrett knew that when it came to the minds of Thieves, there were those who believed the outcome of a perfect Heist laid in the preparation, while others argued it was in the timing or the opportunity: stating that only the best became a Ghost, leaving no trace behind. And while all of these were valid points, he had no idea what she believed: and that, in addition to her silence and grace: made her dangerous and untrustworthy in his eyes, but Basso seemed to put a great deal of trust in her.
Thinking back to his final words on the matter, he decided to give Basso the benefit of the doubt, before he turned from the window and climbed into the gears of the Clock with practiced ease: glancing critically over each one and taking note of the ones that needed oiled or replaced, pleased that only three were coming to that point and made sure to remember to keep his eyes open for fresh gears in Stonemarket the next time the Engineers passed through. Once he combed through the rest of his home for any sign of recent damage, he leapt from the platform and grabbed hold of one of the ropes leading to the lower levels, checking the traps below for any sign of tampering or any lost limbs due to any being triggered by any unfortunate souls.
Satisfied that he could find neither, he climbed back up into his living space: pausing just long enough to pull his mask down and scrub the charcoal and dirt from his face in the washbasin, feeling the beginning effects of drowsiness start to catch up with him, he decided to turn in early this morning: especially if he was going to be paying Rayne a visit later on in the evening. While he had a feeling she wasn't entirely as insufferable as Erin tended to be, judging by his initial introduction to her: he had a sneaking suspicion he'd need all the energy he could get in order to put up with her, especially if she wasn't expecting a visit to her hideaway: least of all, from him. From the stories he'd heard, she was an expert in getting into places she shouldn't: much like he was, and that would earn her a lot of enemies in turn, especially among The Watch and jealous Thieves.
If she was as smart as Basso had given her credit for, then she most-likely would've trapped that Lighthouse to hell and would have to keep his wits about him: especially if she didn't know he was coming. "Guess someone's in for a rude awakening." he mused, feeling the slight tug of a smirk start to pull at his lip at the thought of getting the jump on The ever-vigilant Nightingale: something he was convinced would be a worthy challenge, if her reaction to his earlier sneaking was anything to go by. As he imagined the reaction she would give, he couldn't help but feel a nice boost to his own pride: finding something to best her in and prove he's still the best in The City should knock down that sarcasm of hers: as long as his Protégé was able to hold back her own pride and not get involved.
Regardless of his minimal interaction with Rayne, it didn't take a genius to figure out that a meeting between the two women would end up in bloodshed: there wasn't a doubt in his mind, especially with Erin's constant need to compete and prove herself as the better Thief. With a sigh of annoyance, he pushed the thought away and kicked off his boots and rested his Blackjack, bow and quiver against the wall next to his mattress: well within reach, should he need them. Running a hand through his hair, he noted it would soon need cut as he lay on his back: willing his body to turn in for a rest as The Clock carried on with its constant, soothing noise. Unbeknownst to him as he felt his mind drift, that something as trivial as a meeting between Erin and Rayne would very soon be the least of his problems, and would very likely lead to disastrous events that not even The Queen of Beggars could foresee in time to warn him: and that, was a truly dangerous, and terrifying thought.