[ P ] Kitten thief

Prince, King, Sir? Ruel's gaze warmed with some amount of pride—not so much from her assumptions but from the fact that he knew something she didn't: who he was. How much power he held. To her, he could have some familial sway. All of this wealth could have just been handed down by some opulent, golden hand while he was just a babe sipping from a silver spoon. This illusion, to his knowledge, worked far better for him. Why give her more than she needed to know? To answer her question—the direct one at least—he just shrugged. "Tell him however you wish."

Her surprise over them being the same age was... cute. She didn't conceal anything at all—nor did she seem to hold a grudge. So quickly did they go from adversaries to... acquaintances? It was a ridiculous thing to say but he was entertained.

When she questioned how he'd gotten his wealth, Ruel just winked and took a sip of his wine. "Born this way I guess," came his answer with a shrug. Which wasn't entirely wrong. He had been born with a sense for popular taste and a great mind for numbers. As a result, investing had been fairly easy. His lack of a need for decadence and charades helped as well although this particular wine night was certainly an act in theatrics. Of course, if construed his comment as him having been born into it all, he wouldn't begrudge her. That little detail he was keeping purposefully vague.

The announcement of her name caused him to almost keel over laughing and her to spit out her drink. A small part of his heart sunk as he thought about his floorboards and the stickiness he'd feel tomorrow morning. He'd need to call a maid to wash it up... if any hadn't been drafted yet. Although she did offer to clean it herself, Ruel just shook his head. "No, don't worry about it," he chuckled, taking a sip of his wine.

But still she found a proper and quality table cloth to start wiping it up with. Ruel grit his teeth and swallowed his objections. I... didn't buy the last one or anything. No, no. Didn't want it anyway. Ratty old... beautiful... azure blue thing...

"Ah, yes, the guard..." Ruel's voice trailed as he tried to tear himself away from the sight of the immaculate cloth slowly being soaked with wine and scrubbed against the floor. "...Well, did you want to replace him?"

table ; bunny ;; art ; snowbody

ONYXIA
FEAR IS ONLY WHAT YOU MAKE IT

There were many things Onyxia was ignorant to, the biggest one was the fact she knew enough about the politics, but not about those who lived in wealth surrounded by the city walls. They all looked the same, but some of them spoke different like Ruel for instance. He was proper, and even listening to him as hard as she did he refused to slip up with even one foul word. Even when she had pressed him and made him upset by barging into his home and touching his cat, he still refrained from being foul. She kind of admired it, but also didn't understand it.

Her attention would be drawn back when he answered that she could refer to him however she wanted. "Okay, I'll say the stupid pretty boy said you were fired," a small grin pulled at her blackened lips, but she brushed it off as she tried to play coy.

"Pft, I wish I was born into wealth. Must feel nice to not wonder if you're going to eat or not," her tongue was without a filter although she did not think she said anything wrong. It was just a harsh, honest truth, and while she could not understand his comfort he would not be able to understand her struggle, especially just being born into wealth. She saw her grandmother struggle, as well as her mother, but even though they had no coin they shared a wealth far beyond money.

She really missed it sometimes.

By the time he told her she didn't have to clean the spilled drink it was too late, and had she been paying any more attention she would have seen him wince in pain at the cloth she used to clean the wine. Onyxia saw no expense, no value. Blind to the fact that the cloth probably costed more then anything she held in her life. It wasn't a purposeful act, just a innocently ignorant one.

ah yes the guard. She forgot they'd been talking about him for a second. well, did you want to replace him? Her orange hues rested on him, "you're willing to give me a job?" She pondered the thought. Never did she have a job before or earn an earnest living. She was use to stealing if she could not afford what she needed, not wanted, because even for being a thief she somewhat had morals.

"I mean, yeah, that would be cool..." It was a weird change of pace from how they met, the conversation starting more hostile just to end with her having a job, as a guard, in a castle.

"I can fight everyone else off but these shadows," she admitted, they still scared her. "What are the hours, days? Where would I sleep?" The last question slipped from her lips, reminding herself he had a place to lay his head every night where as she, well, she never stayed in the same place very long.

code by claerie

Stupid pretty boy was the moniker she'd given him and Ruel's brow quirked but he shook his head and laughed nonetheless. "How kind, I'm sure he'll know exactly who you're talking about," Ruel teased before leaning back and savoring his wine. Whether she thought him pretty or not, he wasn't sure—although she didn't seem like the type to offer many compliments. And, if she did, the most honest ones were likely dressed around an insult like this one. But what did it matter if she found him handsome? Ruel imagined that he was someone she must despise by virtue of his wealth, just as society demanded that he hate her for what she lacked. Was that not the rat race that kept their society functioning? The rich vs the poor?

Yet he didn't hate her. Yes... her gall was inconvenient. Her desire to steal his cat was less than flattering. She had a rough exterior that didn't match the finery of his home, but she was honest. More than riches, wines, or rare meats, honesty was what was rare. It died along with innocence far too early in the aristocracy.

But she didn't seem to hate him either, not actively. A red ear flicked at her mention of what his wealth afforded him and Ruel nodded, sobered by her admission. "I can't imagine it, not knowing," was his soft answer, his usual humor tempered by his thoughts.

Of course, watching her destroy one of the more precious cloths that he owned did distract him quite a bit.

Ruel tried not to wince with every scratch of the embroidery against the floorboards.

"you're willing to give me a job?"
Ruel tore his eyes away and focused on hers instead. To his surprise, she was thinking it over—so perhaps she was smarter than a common thief. What he offered her was more security than she'd ever had in her entire life. Perhaps he was a fool for doing it—she had broken into his house, but he wasn't a successful investor because he was afraid of taking risks. The most effective guard would know how a criminal thought.

"Where do you want to sleep?" He asked, canting his head to the side. "The more you work, the more I'll pay you. If you devote all of your time to your post, you could afford any apartment in this city." Because that was what a business arrangement was, a give and take. The more she'd give, the more he'd let her take from him. "Protect me, and I'll protect you. You won't have anything to fear from the draft—or from hunger."

table ; bunny ;; art ; soar

ONYXIA
FEAR IS ONLY WHAT YOU MAKE IT

The shift in conversation wasn’t what she expected, though breaking and entering into his home was not her first line of business it seemed she was meant to be there in the moment. A girl who was use to the roughness of the streets and a boy who always had a full belly, somehow bound by fate or so it seemed. She remained quiet while he explained the pros of working for him, the biggest one being the dodge of the draft and the second being the promise that she could afford any place in the city. How did she run into such an opportunity and what had she done to deserve it?

”Why would you do that for me?” The words left her lips faster than she could comprehend her thoughts. ”Just three seconds ago I was a girl from the slums who wanted to steal from you and take your cat,” she looked at the feline quickly who seemed to catch the gaze in her direction. ”I wasn’t going to take anything I didn’t need,” she admitted almost in a hush soon after.

Onyxia was known to really only steal one thing, and one thing only. Food. It was means to survive, something money could buy if stolen but it was much harder to take. Her face was well known around the markets making it harder for her to have sticky paws under the radar. There were days now where she would go without food, and it wasn’t beneath her to also steal from the less fortunate.

She didn’t deserve what he was offering her.

code by claerie

For someone so barbaric—not in the brutal sense of the word per se, but in her overt confidence and crude behavior—he had not anticipated such a question. If anything, Ruel had half expected her to laugh and do a dance around his foyer, maybe spin Halibut in a circle. Instead, her amber eyes seemed to shake with sudden uncertainty, like a girl far too young staring into a shop window at a dress she could never afford. But, even if she'd had the money, she would hate the fit on her, as if silk and lace were too rich for her blood. It... caused his heart to constrict in a way he hadn't expected.

"Then take the job—isn't that what you need more? An honest living for an honest person, a way out of poverty that wasn't your fault for ending up in?" Easily, he stood up from his relaxing position upon the couch and approached her slowly.

"My reasons are based on merit alone. Your ability to break in makes you exceptionally fit to circumvent it. Halibut likes you which will make feeding and tending to her easy. And..." If she allowed him to, he'd gently offer to help her up off of the ground. There was no reason to crouch and clean up as if she were his maid. "... you do not lie, which is the rarest quality of all."

He canted his head to the side, regarding her more thoughtfully. "If you feel as though you are taking advantage of me, do it. Not enough wolves have in my life. If you can't say the same, then bleed me dry—because you can and should." His shoulders lifted in a debonair shrug. "That is how the game of money is paid. A wolf is either a good person or businessman, never both."

table ; bunny ;; art ; soar

ONYXIA
FEAR IS ONLY WHAT YOU MAKE IT

His questions caused her to fall silent, becoming engulfed in her own thoughts as she thought about the life she could now live. A life with money, comfort, stability. Where she could eat and lay her head in the same place every single night without worry. What was a life without worry? She couldn’t even fathom. The only time she had comfort and stability was when her grandmother was alive, but when all that fell apart so did her entire world. Her mother disappeared, and Onyxia assumed her dead. Her father, she never knew. Everything that was once good was fell apart, she was torn from her home and comfortable life and forced on the street.

Now here he was, extending a paw.

She blinked at him, her orange hues followed his movements as he drew closer, offering her help off the floor. It wasn’t until he was close, really, really close that she could admire him truly. He was handsome, very much so. His features were soft though his brow held a scowl. She didn’t fight him off as he moved her from the floor, her gaze looking at the cloth that was left there.

if you feel you are taking advantage of me—do it.

Her brows furrowed with confusion. Why? Lips parted to question him, but he would quickly answer what she was meant to ask. ”I don’t think you are bad…for being a businessman that is,” she moved a little closer to him so she could lock her fiery gaze into his equally intense one. ”You are a businessman who is offering a street rat an honest living, even though she wronged you. You don’t owe me a single thing and yet you want to see me do well. Maybe you are the one percent who is both.” She offered him a soft smile.

”I would be a fool to reject such an offer. Thank you.”

code by claerie

She was an enigma to him. In one moment, she was weary and scrubbing at the floor, her words indicating a genuine lack of self-worth. The next, she was stepping closer to him, her amber eyes glowing with smoldering intensity. Yet, even in such a show of self-posession, she referred to herself as a street rat in the same breath that accepted his offer. She was both strong and fragile, indomitable yet afraid of shadows. It made him want to lift her up and tuck her away within the confines of his home, like a relic he'd stumbled upon and refused to share. Hell, he almost lifted a hand to cup her cheek—but his senses returned to him before whatever wine-addled braincell that was took over.

"Then you start in the morning," he answered then, taking a step back to retrieve a polite space between them.

"The first floor of the house is yours, tonight you stay as a guest. There's a pantry to the left with salted meats and the lighting from the moon does well in illuminating this room if you wish to stay in it—or you can pick any of the furnished bedrooms." Finding a plan of action felt natural, far more natural than getting lost in the intensity of her gaze and the delicate features that hid behind her bold personality.

"Tomorrow morning, you can let that bafoon know that you are his replacement for protecting the 'stupid pretty boy'. Then we'll begin with the rules—the first being that you are no longer welcome to speak ill of yourself. So get all of that out in your dreams."

... That sorted it all, right? For the first time, he felt somewhat unsure, as if his paws stood upon sand as opposed to sanded wood. What am I doing? It was a whispered question that was lost in the moment he'd allowed himself to get swept up in. He just hoped that he wouldn't end up paying for it.

"Halibut, do keep our guest company tonight," he instructed his sweet cat as if the traitor hadn't already taken a shining to Jewels.

Then, in his instructive whirlwind, he moved to climb the stairs that would take him to the second story. Before disappearing, however, he looked over his shoulder. "Goodnight Jewels, see you in the morning."

And, if she did not stop him, he'd retreat to his quarters.

- exit unless stopped -

table ; bunny ;; art ; soar

ONYXIA
FEAR IS ONLY WHAT YOU MAKE IT

There were many things Onyxia was ignorant to, the biggest one was the fact she knew enough about the politics, but not about those who lived in wealth surrounded by the city walls. They all looked the same, but some of them spoke different like Ruel for instance. He was proper, and even listening to him as hard as she did he refused to slip up with even one foul word. Even when she had pressed him and made him upset by barging into his home and touching his cat, he still refrained from being foul. She kind of admired it, but also didn't understand it.

then you start in the morning.

The businessman assured her she had a job with stable pay, a place to rest her head at night, and a belly that would be full by the end of every day. It was almost a fever dream she half expected to wake from. How did her deciding to break into a mansion turn into a life opportunity? One that provided her with stability and wealth (even though not in the amount of Ruel's). It was comfort to her and her alone, which settled her stomach. As he made his subtle demands, the biggest being she should stop poking fun at herself, he wished her a goodnight and left the quarters.

"Goodnight," she went to follow with his name, but realized he never got around to telling her his true alias. "Pretty boy," she whispered to herself with a soft smile. An eye for an eye. Jewels for pretty boy. Maybe they would get on better name terms later, but for now.

Sleep.

She looked down the darkened corridors, making way to one of the many rooms he had offered her to sleep in. Entering one, her eyes widened. While spacious it was well decorated, huge furniture filled the rooms and the light of the moon passed through one of the large see-through walls. It was amazing, and again, she didn't think she deserved it.

Onyxia would worry about that tomorrow, for now she rested her head and sleep took over faster than she ever imagined. It was the first time in a long time she had been able to sleep so deeply, and comfortably.

exit onyxia

code by claerie