He was a thief of the oddest sort. Thief was maybe even the wrong to describe him. Treasure Hunter may have been a better way to categorise him. After all, he did not steal to for monetary gain. He did enough to keep himself fed and watered when Auntie neglected to provide food for some punishment he had incurred. But otherwise, he looked for clues and answers or simply enjoyed himself. That, right now, was his only purpose, his own enjoyment. Was there not something more he could do? He had no higher calling right now, so the answer was no.
James chuckled softly to himself. His eyes looked out across the waters that surrounded his home. The still black surface reflected the weak light of the sun on the overcast day. He called this place home but he had no sense of what home really was. Sure, it was where he lived but a home was meant to be filled with love. The abandoned child did not know what it meant to be loved, to love or to be in love. Love seemed meaningless after the things he’d seen. People betraying their partners for primal lust, maybe that was love? Were stories simply make believe and nothing more?
“I ask too many questions to the wind,” James swung his legs back on to the roof and got to his nimble feet. “Probably why I haven’t got any answers.” The youth yawned and stretched his arms, bouncing on the balls of his feet a few moments. Despite the slight bulk the armour and coat gave him and the weapons that adorned his person, he was lean and unimposing. But that only worked to his advantage. As if to prove it to himself, he took in a deep breath and broke in to a sprint.
He crossed the familiar wooden roof in a matter of moments before dropping down to the next familiar rooftop. Familiar was another term he never needed. He had run here for eight years. He knew every rooftop and ledge, every balcony and gangway and he knew how to use them all to his advantage. He knew she’d be out today as well. Much like how permanent these roofs were, so was she. Every third day she would venture to market and come back again with a basket of goods for her master. The poor Kelvic did not know true freedom.
She was a tigress of some description, she’d told him that before in an attempt to intimidate him. But it had not stopped him coming back, like a moth to the flame. She’d flail and moan but give him what he wanted. Every time she’d take the same route or vary it slightly but he always knew where she would be, because he was always watching, waiting for her to leave.
He seemed to glide across the rooftops and balconies. Every footfall practised to get him where he needed to go. He continued running ever as a crevice opened between the rooftops as the street met the canal. He slid to a stop just before the edge and dropped down to the balcony below. A woman squealed and recoiled in terror as he landed next to her. Before she could even recover, James had vaulted the safety of the edge, landing on the wooden dock below. He paid light mind to the woman or her shouts. A leap carried him up the stairs and he sprinted over the bridge for the canal.
Once out of view and earshot of her, he came to his favourite part of the journey. In a favoured show of parkour mastery, he leapt up on to a barrel, then to roof of a trading stall. A jump and an outstretched arm swung him from a pole on to another rooftop. He scrambled up a trellis and dashed to the corner of the roof. He had caught the attention of a few onlookers and probably a guard or two but he had done it so many times, he knew they would not bother him now. He dropped down to another balcony of a gambling house and leant on the railings to watch and wait for her. His ears listening for anything of interest while he waited.
OOCAnyone is free to join, don't much care who
