moonmoonacademy | JUNE TEST DRIVE MEME

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JUNE TEST DRIVE MEME

JUNE TEST DRIVE MEME
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Summer's here in force, the sun beating down like a hammer. Fortunately, there's still plenty to do to take your mind off the heat...

A. Swap Market Stalls
The year turns, the seasons change, and the swap market is back in business, here to offer their many exciting new wares for very reasonable prices, honestly, would they lie to you?

It’s no bad way to while away an afternoon, wandering through the rows of colorful stalls and examining the various offerings, both magical and mundane. Maybe you can buy a trinket for a friend, or a treat for yourself?

Besides, it’s nice to have something fun to do, considering the rumors that prom may be cancelled this year. Gossip claims that it’s a punishment for an unclear incident of student misbehavior, and that two seniors and a grad student have been expelled.

Given that no one can actually seem to pin down who the three people in question were, this part is probably pure rumor.

Probably.

(Hey, gossip is a valuable service, too. Can’t stop the market from talking…)

Just try not to take anything without paying. After some incidents last year, they’ve implemented a few new security features.

B. Midsummer Prep
Every good party requires a good deal of preparation beforehand, and various staff and student volunteers are beginning to set up for the upcoming celebration of the changing seasons. This year’s midsummer festival is shaping up to be a fun little affair, with all the usual traditions- food, campfires, ritual combat displays…

What, you’re not used to that last one?

Yes, well, that does explain why the preparations include both hanging up streamers and carefully warding a small wrestling ring against all sorts of magical damage.

Whether you’re here to help with the setup or just observing for the sake of curiosity, they’ll be working on it in bits and pieces for the next several days.

C. Collecting Sunshine
Sunlight has always been potent, as any of the Undead can tell you, and there is a way to save it for a rainy day. Sunstones cut in a particular way are excellent ways to magically store sunlight to be unleashed at later days, or to add to higher-level potions.

It wouldn’t do just to place them in a window and be done with it, no - it has to have direct exposure, paired with the energy of the young holding it up into the sun, or so the staff insist. One may have a sneaking suspicion that this is an excuse to make the students get more exercise.

D. Iris Network
UN: Xx_shadow_razor_xX
summer break is coming up!!! where do you want to go this year?

also dont comment on the username ok!! i made it when i came here and im NOT changing it

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A. Swap Market Stalls

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.

[A black-gloved hand reaches out to steady him.]

Ce n'est pas grave- which makes one of us, I guess. You look like shit, kid.

[Is this the famous Gallic rudeness?]

Been a while, but I'm pretty sure you had two eyes last time I saw you.

[Nope. It's just Jailbreak.]

[Due to having caused some minor "security issues" the last time the swap market was running, she isn't entirely welcome back. Accordingly, she's made a very token effort to disguise herself via a long coat, a wide hat, and a hideous plaid scarf, which would be slightly more effective if she hadn't torn the sleeves off the coat.]

The unwanted physical contact is like having a bucket of icy water thrown over him, proving more than enough to kick Garrett's mind back into gear. He firmly shrugs off the stranger's grasp without thinking, a reflexive response learned from a lifetime spent on the streets, and adjusts his footing in preparation to dodge the stranger's follow-up.
It never comes, of course, leaving him with nothing but uncomfortable silence as he's finally able to properly register the individual speaking to him.
...And upon recognising them, he cannot help but find himself wishing that he really was just being accosted by an angry market-goer.

"...I must be getting rusty if you, of all people, managed to get the drop on me. Didn't take you for the stalking type, Jailbreak."

How long has she been following him? Just because this entire endeavour was a half-cooked plan doesn't mean he wasn't still being careful about all of this. It's a concentrated effort to keep the anger in his gut from rising up whilst simultaneously maintaining his typical lukewarm attitude towards conversation, pretending that the reminder of what has been taken from him doesn't fill his chest with a volatile cocktail of emotions that he has absolutely no time to deal with right now.

"This a bounty thing, or did you just so happen to be in the area?"

[Jail leans casually back against the alley wall, languid as a housecat, and folds her arms.]

Last I checked, you dropped on me. Seemed like the time to say hi.

[She shrugs.] Ain't hurting for cash these days, so this don't gotta be business if you aren't making it business. [An eyebrow raises.] You wanna sit down before you fall down and lemme buy you a drink all friendly-like? Or is this gonna be like Prague all over again?

[She doesn't bother going into detail about Prague. It is entirely possible that whatever incident she's thinking of didn't even involve Garrett, because she's had a lot of incidents with a lot of people and was very drunk for most of them. But it could have been him, maybe.]

He may not have been there for it personally, but Garrett would be hard-pressed to not know about The Prague Incident. To this very day, his old contacts are still trying to work out what the hell actually happened that night, as if 'Jailbreak was involved' isn't already a sufficient enough explanation for everything. It is entirely possible that he knows a little more about what happened than most, but he's not known for his habit of outing his fellow associates.
...which brings him to the realisation that none of said associates are actually set up out here, and that for all of his talents, he is going to be well and truly alone in this place if he doesn't start swallowing his pride real fast. It's certainly not the worst price to pay for a free coffee and a shot at reconnecting with a powerful ally, even if she can be somewhat obnoxious to deal with.

"...if you're buying, there's a dainty little café back there. Off the beaten path, decently concealed, looks like the decorator read too many nursery rhymes as a kid..."

In a manner of speaking, Garrett trusts Jailbreak. Specifically, he trusts Jailbreak in the same way you trust a honey bee to leave you alone unless you piss it off. As far as he's concerned, she the most upfront and honest professional criminal in the business, so when she offers you a drink, she's just offering you a drink. Any subsequent Prague Incidents that occur as a result of her general vicinity tend to just happen regardless of what's already happening, though it's up for debate how many of them she actually causes on purpose.
(Garrett's current estimate is 60%. It'd probably be a lot higher if he had spent more time around her.)

[Jailbreak appreciates his willingness to accept her as she is: weird and kind of terrible.]

The one with all the doilies? Yeah, I know the place. Good croissants.

[She casually pushes off the wall and saunters in the general direction of the cafe. Are her slow, relaxed movements a way of reassuring Garrett that she's not about to suddenly attack him or reach for a weapon? A way of making sure he can keep up with her pace despite clearly not being entirely well right now, without insulting him by showing too much obvious concern? Just her being lazy?]

[Knowing her, it could be any or all of them.]

[The only way to find out is to follow.]

...well, looks like brunch has taken care of itself, so Garrett's got that going for him at least. He unconciously appreciates Jailbreak's choice to take her time: It lets him move at a silent pace, and gives him a chance to maybe start working out why the hell she's even here to begin with. Was there going to be a heist happening here soon that none of his contacts had deigned to warn him about? He highly doubts that Jailbreak would have come all the way to a tiny university town in the middle of the Rhône-Alpes if there wasn't something more enticing to be had here, beyond a good drink or a pretty face.

"...didn't think I'd run into you this close to Geneva, what with that scandal at the UN headquarters a while back. Rumour has it that the the director-general himself left a meeting early one night, only to walk in on a silver-haired woman and her partner performing scandalous acts inside his office. Don't suppose you'd know anything about that, would you?"

He's never been one for gossip and rumours, but it'll help him keep up a conversational air for the time being, at least until they're guaranteed the privacy they need to discuss more...professional business. This is assuming that she's going to tell him anything at all, of course, but at least he'll still be getting a croissant for his troubles.

[Clearly, he's never seen how many hours your average lesbian will drive to spend the weekend with her long-distance girlfriend.]

Listen- [Jail casually pushes open the door to the cafe, hand lingering on it just long enough that it could be accidental that it leaves enough time for Garrett to walk through without having to push it open himself. Not like she's holding it for him, you can't prove anything.] -you know how many places I'm banned from?

If I stayed way the fuck away from every town I've been run out of, jurisdiction I'm wanted in, and establishment I'm no longer welcome at, where the fuck would I even go. The moon?

[Actually, also not an option after last year's slight incident with NASA, but that's not the point.]

The mental image of Jailbreak skipping about on the moon actually manages to get a small cackle out of Garrett, disarming his already-weakened senses long enough for him to stroll into the café without actually noticing that his potential partner in crime has just politely held the door open for him. He's putting everything he has left into saving face at this point, but not even a rigorous afternoon of purse pinching is enough to compensate for a failing body and dulled awareness. He probably doesn't even realise how bad he really looks.

"...it's like we're walking into some prince charming's fancy castle. I wonder where they're storing all the spare knights in shining armour...?"

...he's still himself enough to continue snarking, at least. And though he moves through the building a little too quickly, missing a corner or two where an assailant could be hiding, and though he doesn't so much sit in his chair as collapse into it...he does nevertheless acquire a table for him and Jailbreak that is a healthy distance away from any of other patrons.
It then occurs to him that he's supposed to be here because there was a promise of food, so he instinctively attempts to sit back up again, already planning out how to best purloin the nearby display of its pastries. Old habits die hard.

[The moon's gay now, sorry not sorry.]

They only bring 'em out for special occasions. Saves a fortune on polish. [Jail flags down a nearby waitress before Garrett can completely stand up. When she said "sit down before you fall down", she meant it.]

Heyyyy, Candi, how's the wife and kids? [In deference to the fact that she's currently in a monogamous relationship, Jailbreak is not quite flirting with said waitress. She does give her a cheery wink, though, on general principles.]

[The woman- Candace according to her nametag- seems to be reasonably happy to see her, at least. She confirms that her wife and kids are, in fact, fine and takes Jail's order for a breakfast sandwich and "whatever this guy wants, my tab" with only minimal sarcastic eyerolling.]

[For all her gleefully obnoxious nonsense, Jail does genuinely like people. It makes it surprisingly easy to get along with them, in her own lackadaisical way. She might rob a rich man, but she'll always tip the waiter- and every time someone tells her a rambling story about their grandkids, she actually remembers, even if half the time she's not sure what city she's in. It's a professional skill- people are more likely to "forget" to mention you to the cops if you can make yourself likable.]

[How her ability to get along with random retail workers squares with her constant mission to annoy anyone in a position of actual authority is an exercise best left to the reader.]

Edited 2020-06-09 04:58 (UTC)

With the waitress sent off with an order for two breakfast sandwiches, all that's left to take up Garrett's attention is the woman sitting across from him. Perhaps he doesn't even realise it himself yet, but some part of Garrett has always aspired to be as effortlessly charismatic around others as Jailbreak is. Think of how much easier infiltration would be if he could just convince the guards he's someone else! Though perhaps he's not going to be doing much of that in the near future, what with Constantine's mark scarring his handsome visage...

"So, what brought you here? Something tells me you didn't just happen to be passing through the area."

Frankly, he hopes that he's gone and accidentally stumbled upon an imminent crime spree. Because if he has, it could be an excellent way of getting his foot in the door for a more permanent residence in Soleil. Even if his way of going about it is probably going to piss off the local authorities.

Edited 2020-06-11 15:00 (UTC)

Well, it's taco Tuesday. [It's Friday.]

Been here a while, anyway. When it comes down to it, there's really only one game in town, but it's worth playing. [With just the slightest tilt of her head, she indicates a nearby window. It's pretty far from the school, but even so the gates of Daybreak Academy are still clearly visible in the distance.]

The only one worth playing, far as some people are concerned. Apocalypse ain't great for business.

...he just hit the jackpot. Not only is one of the very few people Garrett would consider trustworthy set up here, but her goals are apparently in alignment with his. This is exactly the golden opportunity he's been gunning for, and he sure as hell isn't about to waste it...but he can't afford to be hasty with this either, not so soon after just meeting back up with Jailbreak. He'll have to play it safe for now, leaning back in his seat and donning a mask of casual nonchalance.

"...heh. That doesn't sound much like the kind of game I'd be personally invested in. But I am kind of curious to hear what you'd be selling to someone who was actually interested. Plus, it's been a while since I last heard one of your famous 'sales pitches'..."

Just because he doesn't want all of humanity to be destroyed doesn't mean he has to start acting all upstanding and moral about it as well. He's got the reputation of a mythical thief to maintain, and he's not going to let it be tarnished by something as petty as caring about the fate of the world. He'll leave all that rubbish to the cringe-worthy 'heroes' that keep trying to convince people like him to give their patronising doctrines a chance. Fortunately, his comprehension of the French language leaves something to be desired, so any bumbling idealists around here aren't going to be grating at his patience any time soon.

Hey, if you insist... [Jail straightens up from her usual casual sprawl, sitting properly in her chair, and clears her throat as she speaks with a mock-professional tone.]

So, as you may have noticed, the world has a lot of stuff. I like my stuff, and I keep most of it here. Current projections from all known reputable sources, and also me, suggest that at this rate, there will be no world, and therefore also way less stuff.

In conclusion, vote Jailbreak 2kforever.

[She relaxes back into a boneless slouch and chuckles.]

Seriously, you think I wanna outrun the apocalypse? Might be able to, sure, but God what a pain. Scrambling just to get the fuck outta dodge and losing out on so much fun shit in the bargain. Rather head that one off at the pass before Earth gets fucked up enough that we stop having stuff like the Louvre and ladies' night at Tequila Dave's.

[Two human institutions clearly equal in their contributions to art and culture.]

Nightfall's coming and I don't wanna die. That's the long and short of it. [She shrugs.] Sometimes looking out for number one means looking out for numbers two through fifty, so you can all gang up on number fifty-one for trying to, y'know, end the mcfucking world. It's a decent strategy.

[Well, he wanted to avoid idealism. Unless overwhelming selfishness counts as an ideal, that probably fits the bill.]

[ A red-uniformed mage with the air of a supervisor seems for all the world like an easy mark, too focused on his own duties to pay attention to an innocuous brush that could be anything at all. ]

I don't keep anything valuable in my pockets. [ He doesn't stop watching the crowd. ] I thought I'd say something before you wasted your time unduly.

Under less unusual circumstances, Garrett would give someone like this a wide berth - there's a fine difference between someone who dresses themselves as pretentiously on the outside as they are on the inside, and someone who dresses themselves pompously because they can incinerate a man in milliseconds and thus are immune to fashion critique, and Garrett's had those differences drilled into him for decades. (He'll never say anything bad about The Keepers' training. Everything else about them is free game, though.)

Unfortunately, these are desperate times, and money will always be money, no matter who he takes it from. Which is why he spent half a minute taking a gamble with this frilly-looking twit, only to move in for the take and receive a firm bite in the arse for his efforts. Welp. Time to see how rusty his charm has gotten.

"...I don't know, the stock market's been going crazy over lint pretty recently. Your sleeve linings could be worth a fortune."

He would have been long gone the moment this guy so much as smacked his lips, if not for the mage getup acting as a firm reminder that one errant twitch could get him blown to pieces. Today's plans kind of require his hands to be relatively intact, and no spellcaster worth their salt would put karmic retribution over their oh-so-divine sanctity of the veil. So long as the crowd is here, he's both trapped and invincible simultaneously. He just has to smooth-talk this ostentatious individual long enough for another group of people to pass by, and he's home free.

My uniform is both hard-wearing and clean, so you won't have much luck even there, I'm afraid. [ He finally glances at him, just for a moment, making it obvious that there's a glamour that's hiding his face to Garrett's vision. ]

Is this a test of your skill, or do you need the money? [ He goes back to watching the crowd. His tone is casual, like it's a perfectly normal conversation. ]

...he's being toyed with. The realisation reminds Garrett of a more recent event in his life, the ugly scar drawn across his left eyelids aching from the still-unfamiliar emptiness beneath, and it takes what little discipline he's got left in him just to not snap at this arrogant bastard.
He instead opts to shift his body language into something more lackadaisical, hiding behind the mask of the fool and relying on it to conceal his true feelings, before they can spill out and incriminate him further.

"Both, actually. I'm currently seeking employment as a tailor, figured a young man of such refined tastes such as yourself would know a thing or two about fine clothing. That a custom fit?"

Is this young man too cocky for his own good, or has he realised that you're actually extremely dangerous? Who knows! It's not like you've fully outed yourself as a magic user with that petty youthfulness glamour or anything, you snooty berk.

I adjusted it to fit me, if that's what you're asking. [ One of House Gehring's other staff could have done it, of course, but learning to make adjustments to his own clothes was a skill he couldn't afford to leave behind in his line of work. ]

And I'm hardly what you'd call a 'young man'. [ His voice is dry. ] Unless you're over 40 years old, then perhaps. [ There's plenty of immortals and just young-looking individuals, after all. ]

If you're not going to do me the barest courtesy of stating your actual business, why don't you move along? I'm sure you have better things to do with your time.

His blood turns to ice as the fop's words sink in. 'Move along'. The sick bastard wants a moving target. Garrett's suddenly finding himself feeling extremely agoraphobic, completely out in the open with the nearest innocent bystanders more than ten feet away from him, alone with nothing but his wits and this psychopathic magic user that sees him as nothing more than cheap target practice.
There's no escape route in sight, and the sadistic petit-maître clearly knows this. Garrett's going to need to think fast, because no amount of appealing to ego is going to work when this monster clearly only getting his kicks out of incinerating or freezing people. He's only got the one trump card to play, but it's going to be a coin toss whether it'll buy him precious time or not...!

"...I'm here on behalf of Daybreak Academy. I'm an associate of a faculty member, and I was summoned here to be fully enrolled. They're hoping to put my particular talents to good use, and I'm...actually probably running late, oops."

He channels his nervous energy into an awkward, embarrassed laugh, and starts rubbing the back of his neck. He is the very stunning image of a bumbling but well-meaning fool just looking to find his way in life, and thus, is completely harmless...
...But the hypothetical faculty member of Daybreak Academy absolutely isn't. However would they react if they found out that someone they personally invited for enrolment was viciously murdered in open daylight...? Will this mage prove savage enough to willingly invoke the wrath of Daybreak's finest just to satisfy a passing bloodlust? Surely it's not worth the effort?

If you're running late for a prior appointment, don't let me impose on your time. [ His voice is politely firm, with a hint of confusion (whether calculated or not is up to Garrett to interpret). ] As I said before, I'm sure you have better things to do with your time than pester an old man.

[ Ekkehardt you're like 42 ]

...did...it work? Has this murderous fancy-pants truly been dissuaded by the name-drop? Is he free to go? No, it can't be that simple. Something's not right here...the twonk's unflappable personality, his completely inoffensive choice of words, the fact he's only spared Garrett a single glance...where's the overly-flamboyant proclamations of arcane superiority and the ridiculously long monologues?
For the first time since they started talking, it's finally starting to become clear to Garrett how little this all adds up. As far as appearances are concerned, this guy should be about as harmful as Garrett is pretending not to be right now, and yet the condescending prick is setting off every single alarm bell in the young thief's mind. What the hell is with this guy? Is he wearing a magical waistcoat of intimidation or something?

"...yeah, I guess. See you around, old man."

Garrett sincerely hopes he does not see this 'old man' around.

Unfortunately, fate has other ideas in mind, so he's only permitted to walk two steps away from the 'supervisor' before his boot promptly hits a slightly upturned cobblestone. One second, Garrett is uncertainly retreating from Ekkehardt. The next, he has faceplanted into the ground with a cringe-inducing splutch as his nose takes the brunt of the fall.
To his credit, Garrett doesn't cry out in pain, for he is currently too busy nursing the shattered fragments of his dignity.

[ the good thing about having seer abilities is that things like these can be easily avoided, if luck is good.

the bad thing about having seer abilities and nothing else is that there's no way to defend yourself against a possible thief.

which is why, when romani knows that he's about to be pick-pocketed, he basically jumps away like a scared rabbit. ]

W-what was that for?!

Bollocks.

Honestly, Garrett had figured this fellow would've been as quick and easy a target as everyone else he's robbed so far - this guy's got the absentminded look of an academic who's perpetually stuck inside of their head, marking him as a doctor or a professor. Theoretically, he should not have even close to the amount of spatial awareness and touch sensitivity required to have felt any sort of fingertips peeking into his pockets, let alone the delicate digits of a master thief...and yet, here we are.
To make matters worse, the would-be victim of theft is calling him out before he barely has the chance to retract his fingers, let alone get away, so now Garrett is stuck smooth-talking his way out of this...

"Whoa, easy there, sir. Just trying to get your attention."

Nothing wrong with the classics. He'll gently raises his hands up in a pacifying gesture, for good measure. Totally wasn't about to take advantage of your research grants or anything, he swears it.

Oh, come on! It's not like it wasn't obvious!

[ it wasn't obvious to anyone but the one with seer abilities, actually.

romani's clearly pouting at this point, not really swayed by the stranger's measures. that said, he doesn't seem willing to call police or anyone...maybe he just wants to resolve this quietly? ]

Jeez... look, I don't have a lot in the first place. I arrived to this town with literally nothing. [ he sighs. ] Do you...do you need something? Anything?

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JUNE TEST DRIVE MEME

Garrett | Thief: The Dark Project | OTA

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