Watery Grave.
-Same warnings as before. I do not own the Thief Lord, I am merely borrowing the characters and manipulating them to my fickle will.
Once inside the old theatre with its upturned plush seats, their previously bright red hue further fading away, the swing they had constructed still swaying in a nonexistent breeze, the star emblazoned curtains-
None of them could stop the feeling of nostalgia that seemed to hit them full force like a speeding motor boat, and there was no hiding it either. The place's effects easily visible in each of the five pairs of eyes. Though that did not mean that the two other pairs of eyes were immune to the old theatre's charm.
"It is lovely. I can see why you would call this place home." Remarked the tall blonde photographer, lifting the camera hanging from a thick strap around her neck and lifting it to her eyes and snapping away.
"Yes. Yes. Lovely." The tone Victor used certainly spoke of his time he spent at the Stella as a captive. "Much better than that dark room."
At the last remark every one of the children grinned knowingly, though Riccio had the decency to blush, his ears turning a rich pink from his embarrassment.
"Dark room?" Inquired Ida as she lowered the camera, looking around curiously, drawing laughter from almost everyone.
"Nothing Ida." The detective quickly interjected, though in vain.
"We may or may not have tied Victor up and held him captive in a bathroom." Answered Prosper with a smile, rubbing the back of his head sheepishly, drawing even more laughter.
The youngest just grinned as he held Ida's hand. "Yeah. We tied him up. But we let him go later." Bo reassured her with a sweet, near angelic smile that made anyone think he was perfect and could never do any wrong.
"Well I am glad for that Bo." Ida said affectionately, tousling the blonde hair, causing the kid to practically glow, making Prosper and Hornet to grin.
"Yes. Yes. We are all quite glad." Responded the detective, still sulking at the fact that he was not only outwitted by children, but he was held captive by them. And now they were gloating about it.
"Don't sound so put out Victor. They could have been worse on you, you know. After all, you were the one snooping." Chided the photographer with a knowing smile and a conspirator-like wink at the children.
"Yeah Victor the Snoop." Teased Riccio with the detectives acquired title from anyone who had been on the detective's bad side, though his laughter stopped when he received an elbow to the gut from an innocent smiling Hornet.
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Boniface wandered up the stairs, childish curiosity getting the better of him as he moved from the group, exploring the place he had called home at one time. It seemed the same but so much more different now than it had.
He continued to wander the old theatre, moving past the swing and what remained of the faded red chairs and toward the stairs which led to the next floor, to the rooms they had made into their respective bedrooms.
He had liked the bedroom he and Prosper had stayed in. It had been so nice. He wondered if it was still the same as they had left it. His steps became quicker as his curiosity was piqued, his footsteps relatively mollified by what remained of the carpet.
The small child peered through the door opening, looking around, expression confused as he saw the pile of books that Hornet had left in their room after reading to him at night were spread across the floor, along with other knickknacks they had left behind. What's more, their seemed to be foreign articles of clothing lying about.
It was all so strange. Thought the young blonde as he looked around the room, uncharacteristically quiet in his observing, or at least he was until he approached the mattress near the wall.
Someone was lying there amongst the rumpled blankets.
The young boy moved closer to the person who lay in a crumpled heap, getting to his knees when he was next to the mattress, lifting a hand cautiously to the person, pushing back the blanket that obscured the person's face.
"You're alright. It's okay." The blonde whispered to the other when the motion of brushing off the blankets had seemed to awaken the other briefly. The other merely whimpered, seeming to delve deeper into the constructed cocoon of blankets.
"You will be alright." Bo continued, brushing the other's hair, looking concerned for the other, feeling the need to protect the sleeping figure who seemed so sad and sick, if the chattering teeth and pale complexion said anything about their state of health.
- the thief lord- the thief lord- the thief lord- the thief lord- the thief lord- the thief lord- the thief lord- the thief lord- the thief lord- the thief lord-
It was only after Prosper had wanted to ask Bo if he wanted to go to the San Marco Plaza to go play at the park that he, and in turn everyone else, realized that his little brother was no longer with the group. The discovery sparked panic among them, though some certainly contained it better.
"He is probably just exploring." Suggested Ida, though she looked nervous.
"Yeah. He is probably looking for more kittens to play with." Riccio put in, Mosca nodding in agreement, though both of them looking a little nervous, especially when Prosper's pale, scared face turned to them.
The memories of the Hartliebs was still too fresh in his mind- in all their minds to really just agree with Bo just playing around.
"We will find him Prop. Now, why don't you and Hornet look through Bo's usual hiding place and Riccio and Mosca go to the next floor to look for him there. Me and Victor will look down here." Said Ida, taking charge of the situation, hoping to diffuse the panic before the boy went insane with worry.
However, Ida's placating tone did nothing to ease Prosper's nerves and he began to call for his little brother, the others quickly falling suit.
- the thief lord- the thief lord- the thief lord- the thief lord- the thief lord- the thief lord- the thief lord- the thief lord- the thief lord- the thief lord-
At the thundering footsteps and shouting, the little boy looked up from his recently acquired charge, running a hand over the other's face. "It's okay. It's okay." Bo whispered, looking over his shoulder toward the room's opening.
"I will be right back. Promise." He finished as he got to his feet and quickly pattered over to the doorway and looking around before spotting the shouting, panicking group. "Shhhhh!" Bo said rather loudly, holding a finger over his mouth.
At his words both Prosper and Hornet looked up from the room they were about to look through and turned toward Bo before running toward him. "Bo!" Prosper yelled, sliding to a stop in front of the boy and kneeling in front of him, hands on his little brother's shoulders.
"Shhhh!" Said Boniface, though Prosper and Hornet, who had now situated herself by Prosper's side, did not seem to hear him.
"Bo! What do you think you were doing running off like that! You-"
"Shhhhhhhhh!" Interrupted the blonde, his expression cross, thus proving to not only be surprising, but completely ludicrous. It might even have been considered laughable had Bo not looked so serious. And now it was Prosper's turn to look more than a little confused.
"You are going to wake him up." Whispered Bo, arms crossed over his chest, looking as if he was not going to take any deviances from his request for them to be quiet.
"What are you talking about Bo?" Asked Hornet, seeming to be a little annoyed at not understanding.
"Who are we going to wake up Bo?" Prosper clarified, looking around uncertainly, apprehensive at the turn of events.
Who would be at the Stella? Now at all times? They had all left it. All of them had. Hornet, Riccio, Mosca, and himself and Bo were now living at the Spavento household. And all of the older boys helped at Victor's investigative profession for fun. And Victor and Ida were getting cozy together so it was only a matter of time. So who would be at the old, abandoned theatre?
"Who is here Bo?" He asked again in a quiet tone, humoring the child, wanting answers more than anything.
"He is." Bo whispered, indicating the figure sprawled across the mattress in a heap, wrapped in a cocoon of what could be considered rags more than blankets.
Prosper stood, putting a hand on his little brother's shoulder, indicating him to stay back before he proceeded hesitantly into the room, moving steadily closer the mattress he and Bo had once slept in.
The brunette did not need to kneel next to the mattress to see the person's face. He did not need to lean over them to look at them, to stare. But his body seemed to think otherwise as he sunk to the ground, hovering over the exposed side of the figure's pale, ashen face.
"Hornet." He whispered, not even registering that his words were barely more than wispy breaths. "Hornet. Get Ida. Get Victor. Help. Get help." He continued in the same, quiet, strained voice, eyes wide, breaths coming in short spurts, fear etched once more into his warn face. "Get help. Please. Please."