Garrett has only been in Soleil for a night, and his current thoughts on the town so far can be best described as 'thoroughly disgruntled'. He'd probably be in a better mood about being here if not for the fact that he's barely had a chance to properly scope the damn place out. To make matters worse, he's hardly got any cash left in his pockets, he's partially sleep-deprived, and he hasn't eaten anything in the past couple of days. If he's going to have even the faintest chance of getting properly installed here, then he's going to have to rectify some of these logistical problems before doing anything else. Thus, Garrett's off to the local flea market to tackle his current financial issues. It'll take him little effort to blend in amongst the hubbub of traders and prospective buyers, hiding in plain sight having long become muscle memory for him. With all the errant bodies bumping into one another throughout the plaza, it'll be simple enough to lift a couple of wallets from the unsuspecting crowd. Don't worry about any tiny, silk-like touches you might feel against your pockets, it's probably just the wind.
B. Midsummer Prep
A handful of filched wallets later, and Garrett will quickly step into an alleyway adjacent to the soon-to-be-festival grounds, already flicking through his ill-gotten gains. Today's haul is shaping up to be a good one: He should have enough money to buy himself proper meals for a few days (assuming he doesn't feel like just stealing them from the nearby convenience store), potentially longer if he goes for a second round of purse pilfering later this evening. So far, so good. He'll quickly finish relieving the wallets of their contents before discarding the empty shells into a nearby dumpster, ducking back out of the shadows and into the open...and subsequently walking straight into a passer-by in the process, a radical individual endowed with the sheer audacity to not be loudly trudging around the place like everybody else. Garrett remembers just enough of his footwork to avoid smashing his face into the pavement below, stumbling for a moment longer than he's comfortable with before managing to rediscover the joys of stable footing. ...however, it still takes him a couple of seconds worth of staring blankly at his attacker before realising that he's now supposed to apologise.
"...shit, uh...d-désolé...?"
Fortunately, he at least remembers to cough when he speaks, so as to better disguise his complete butchery of the French language.
Garrett | Thief: The Dark Project | OTA
Garrett has only been in Soleil for a night, and his current thoughts on the town so far can be best described as 'thoroughly disgruntled'. He'd probably be in a better mood about being here if not for the fact that he's barely had a chance to properly scope the damn place out. To make matters worse, he's hardly got any cash left in his pockets, he's partially sleep-deprived, and he hasn't eaten anything in the past couple of days. If he's going to have even the faintest chance of getting properly installed here, then he's going to have to rectify some of these logistical problems before doing anything else.
Thus, Garrett's off to the local flea market to tackle his current financial issues. It'll take him little effort to blend in amongst the hubbub of traders and prospective buyers, hiding in plain sight having long become muscle memory for him. With all the errant bodies bumping into one another throughout the plaza, it'll be simple enough to lift a couple of wallets from the unsuspecting crowd. Don't worry about any tiny, silk-like touches you might feel against your pockets, it's probably just the wind.
B. Midsummer Prep
A handful of filched wallets later, and Garrett will quickly step into an alleyway adjacent to the soon-to-be-festival grounds, already flicking through his ill-gotten gains. Today's haul is shaping up to be a good one: He should have enough money to buy himself proper meals for a few days (assuming he doesn't feel like just stealing them from the nearby convenience store), potentially longer if he goes for a second round of purse pilfering later this evening. So far, so good.
He'll quickly finish relieving the wallets of their contents before discarding the empty shells into a nearby dumpster, ducking back out of the shadows and into the open...and subsequently walking straight into a passer-by in the process, a radical individual endowed with the sheer audacity to not be loudly trudging around the place like everybody else. Garrett remembers just enough of his footwork to avoid smashing his face into the pavement below, stumbling for a moment longer than he's comfortable with before managing to rediscover the joys of stable footing.
...however, it still takes him a couple of seconds worth of staring blankly at his attacker before realising that he's now supposed to apologise.
"...shit, uh...d-désolé...?"
Fortunately, he at least remembers to cough when he speaks, so as to better disguise his complete butchery of the French language.