As the people droved in and out as thier movies began and ended, Susan sat and waited. She'd wander into the theater if there were to few people in the lobby, but for the most part she stuck herself in the middle of huge crowds and easaly plucked the wallets out of pockets and bits of cash out of purses, working her way out and into the next crowd. She had gotten good at this since she got bored of shop-lifting cheap jewlery from department stores. And in a place like this, everyone is paying attention to rushing into the theater before all the good seats are taken.

This is how Susan Webb usually spends her weekend.


(Sorry if its short...)

Being an assassin, Wenceslas doesn't visit theatres too often. These days, cheap actors, and the prices for tickets are outrageous, and what he considers 'highway robbery'. But, as always, even elves like him, needed their entertainment, however overpriced it may be.

He didn't walk into the theatre, he sauntered in, looking absolutely like the arrogant prick he was. He had a box seat to 'The Sound of Music', and he certainly was going to act like it.

He didn't dress like a man (excuse me, elf) his age would, and didn't see fit to dress up to go to the theatre. He'd stopped caring about that when he was at least twenty. Anyway, he didn't look like anything special. A glamour over the ears to make them round, his oh so shocking white, despite his efforts, tousled hair, contrasting against his dark skin... A black sweatshirt with a hood, and pants that were pretty much made out of all polyester. Which were also black, and had pockets only in the back.

His hood was pulled over his head and ears, showing little of his white hair, and making it surprisingly easier to see his beautiful blue eyes.

So, he settled himself into his seat, and the humanity was silenced, and there was chittering and chattering no more. Surprisingly enough, though, he hadn't realized, quite yet, that he was one of Susan's victims, and was missing his wallet, with his vital information. But if the ornery elf did know, he'd probably raise hell with his shouting.

Unlike most pick-pockets, Susan was usually easy to pick from the crowd. So, in order to not look like she was doing something wrong, she had bought what she liked to call her "Job Ticket." This was just a monthly pass and reserved seat, but it did her worlds of good if she slipped and had any contact with the people she stole from. Only she never thought of it as stealing. She thought of it more as "Taking her share." Of what? She didn't care.

As the crowd thinned and moved into the theatre she went along, taking what she could, mostly without even looking to see if anyone was watching. Her seat was close to the doors, but not any that are used for entrance. Just so she could take a nab at what she saw go past her.

Susan settled into her seat which happened to be a few rows down from the Dark Man. As she labled him. As she did everyone she saw to make sure that she didn't double dip into thir pockets. Thats a good way to get caught. A big no in her book.

Even though it was usually a bad idea to start conversations with anyone being in her profession, this man had a strange air about him. It looked like he was hiding under that hood and he was far under-dressed compared to the rest she had seen around here.

As things go, the musical went on, and Wenceslas watched with only little interest. The opening scene wasn't that great, but despite Wenceslas' prediction, the actors were... quite superb. Not like he'd give them credit for that or voice that specific opinion out loud, but... still.

The boyish looking elf boy shifted in his seat a little, because he never quite could stay still in one spot for the longest of times, causing quite an annoyance to the people in back of him. Since they were a group of woman, it was irritating with Wenceslas' constant moving, since they were fairly short, and since he was about six feet tall, his head got in their way every time he moved, if only even slightly.

And despite his narcissisim, Wenceslas decided, that The Sound of Music wasn't really The sound of Music, unless you had someone to share it with. Not like he'd admit to being 'lonely', of course. The elf would never enjoy a human's presence, anyway.

Susan got up from her seat. There was a small group of women leaving, possibly for the restroom, so she filed in with them. She saw that she had already lifted from some of these ladies and moved into the row that they had just passed. The Dark Man's row. Only, now, she could see that he wasn't exactly a man. A male, yes. Not a man, but not a boy, either. He had a strong sense of youth about him.

She sat next to him. Whats a show alone? Though she had already seen this show enough times to be able to recite every line to the T. She said nothing to him, but was leaning towards him as if listening. As a friend might listen to another.

"Excuse me?" The elf's voice was a hoarse whisper, his deadly blue eyes staring, and perhaps glaring, at the human girl. It was hard to tell, though, since he always looked like he was glaring, even when he was quite pleased.

The manner he'd asked the not-quite-question was not at all in politeness, but rather a scolding one that said, without words, 'what do you think you're doing next to me?'

(Arghshort.)

She said nothing. Only nodded toward the stage. But she was looking into his eyes. So blue. Her contact lenses made hers look white, like the cataracts of death. She could see the reflection of the actors in his eyes. She took his wallet from where ever it was that she kept it, she knew exactly which was his without looking, and held it out to him.

"I think you dropped this." She didn't know why she was returning his stuff, just that it was a big No in her book. She did it, anyway.

"Hm? Thanks... better take more care not to lose it next time." He took, without snatching up, the wallet, and though it seemed he continued to watch the musical, he kept a watchful, too-blue eye on the woman.

"You are sixteen, going on seventeen..." the tune floated around the theatre, and everyone in the room kept their eyes glued to the actors. Except, maybe, Susan and Wenceslas. He said nothing, but he still found it quite... troubling, that he could've dropped his wallet. There was no way he could've done that... it was secured, safely, in his pocket...

The elf kept a solemn expression, looking at both the scene and the woman beside him.

Susan was looking at the actors, but watching The Dark Man in the corner of her eye. Her hands were reaching into wallets and moving all the contents into her pockets. She had gotten skilled at this, as well. Her arms were slightly crossed and it didn't look like there was any movement going on inside her jacket. A stack of bills, some busness cards, some credit cards, a condom, and an ID. She stuffed all of this into the right breast pocket of her custom fitted coat. Made for hiding bulky things. Like a gun, perhaps.


||bleah, short...||

The musical went on, without Wenceslas saying anything at all. Finally, after a few more scenes, people we're standing up and clapping. And wenceslas stood and clapped too, if only a little.

(I have lsot my brain to sickness. Please excuse my terrible post.)

No matter how many times she saw this, or any other play/musical, she'd never see what the others saw in it. Susan wasn't one for plays, but she loved music. So this was a kind of compromise. But she preferred heavy metal to anything else. Some days whan the show wasn't all that great, she would be listening to Motley Crue in the bathroom.

She stood with everyone else, clapped, and started to file out with the others for consessions and such. She wasn't sure if the show was over or just in intermission, she never did. Usually she would be weaving through the crowd doing what she did best, but today she staked out the exits.

The show was over, there was no doubt about that, and Wenceslas was already standing up and edging into the crammed humanity. The curtains were drawn on the musical, and Wenceslas, now bored, twitched involuntarily as he brushed up against other humans.

He wanted to get out of this theatre and he wanted to get out of it now.

Susan saw The Dark Man walk by. He had an almost frustrated look on his face. She grabbed him by the wrist and pulled him into an empty hallway. She didn't know what he'd do, but she felt that he may thank her or something. It would normally take a good half hour to get out in this crowd, and the back exits were so much easier.

"In here!"

Wenceslas didn't take too kindly to being touched- much less yanked by the wrist, by humans, or anyone at all. His brow creased into a displeased emotion, and his blue eyes flashed threateningly for a moment.

"What are you doing?"

She recoiled at the fierce look in his eyes.

"Short-cut," She said. "This way." She beckoned him to come as she walked backwards down one of the hallways. Since she wasn't that great in conversation she started off with the basics. Those same basics you may hear on the first day of kindergarden.

"I'm Susan." she gave a weak smile and a shrug. "Who are you?"


(sorry if that sucked...I wrote myself into a corner...)

(Nah, it's quite all right.)

"Mnnkay," the elf mumbled, darkly, following the woman, his footsteps silent, like death. You'd have to look over your shoulder to make sure he was still following he often was so quiet.

No smiles for the elf. "Wenceslas," was his mono-syllable reply.

She rounded another corner and stopped at a single metal warehouse door.

"Right out here." The door opened to a small walk behind the theatre that connected two alleyways. "So, uh, what is it that you do?"

Wenceslas continued to follow Susan to wherever she was going, scolding himself for being so trusting with this one. She'd just lead him to an exit, anyway, so it wasn't like he was worried. And if he was... there was always his Revolver to help him with that.

"Kill people." He shrugged, nonchalantly. Obviously he'd never been asked before. "It pays."

Susan nodded. Along the same lines as what she did. Both illegal.

"Cool. I guess it would. How much do you make on an average day?" It was a personal question, but money was one thing she could talk about. And often.

She went left from the door. "Bay Street is that way." She pointed to her left.

"That's classified information," he mumbled, moving with alien grace, his steps seeming to be like liquid, and flow.

"Yes, I know." Came Wenceslas' irritated reply. "I know what it looks like."

"Okay." She backed off the subject. She didn't want to be killed in any back alley by an odd tall dude because she got into his business.

(...I'm stuck...)

(I'll save you!)

"And what is it you do?" He asked, stepping out of the theatre. After all, she'd asked him, so it was only fair for him to ask.

"I liberate sums of cash and other valubles from the better off." She had been working on this particular set of words for weeks. She liked the way it sounded. She found herself looking into his eyes, again. They were almost hypnotic. Drawing hers in no matter how she resisted. Eye contact wasn't her thing.


(ooh, big words...)

"In other words, you steal things. And I didn't drop my wallet, did I?" He asked, as realization finally donned upon him that he'd been stolen from oh-so-easily. "I must say, good show," he smiled, rather sardonically.

"You got it back, did you not? One should be so lucky. But we're doing the same things when you think about it." This was alot more than she was used to talking. And had she been talking with anyone else, she probably would have run off. But this Wenceslas looked as if he could catch her if he was really going to do something.

:bleah:

"You shan't be so lucky next time." Assuming that she was going to steal from him again? No, assuming she try anything on him he didn't like. Indeed, if she chanced an attempt at running, he would've snatched her wrist with cat-like reflexes, so fast that she couldn't even blink in the time it'd take him.

(Blllllaaah.)

She was sinking into thought. Why was this man so different from all the others? Why did he look so young while his hair was the white of an old man? He isn't an albino, his skin was too dark, and his eyes were too blue. Unless he is wearing coloured contacts and that "Tan in a Can" stuff.

"Tell me," she broke from her thoughts. "What are you?"

He obviously was not telling her, and not letting down the glamour over his ears. His dark eyebrows raised, curiously. "Living. Same as you." No information about his heritage, quite frankly.

"I can see that. But what makes you feel so different? Its not just your looks, but the air around you is different, also. It's almost...not human..."

She had moved closer to him. Inches away. And was looking up into his face.

"One," he paused, and stared down at her with deep, blue, glaring eyes, "have you seen a psychiatrist lately?"

Silence, for a moment or two, before he took a step back. "Two, don't get that close to me." His tone was harsh, scolding. Sounded like the elf hadn't done anything but scolding in all his years.

"I don't like shrinks. They tell me that I am no better than anyone else... and that we are all the same." She stepped closer to him, back to where she was.

"Am I making you uncomfortable?" She smirked. "Am I touching soft places?"

He folded his large arms against his chest for a moment, blue eyes becoming seemingly threatening. "You are no better than anyone else here." This was said in a way that implied that she was nothing special, and he was quite frankly superior. Cocky elf.

"Depends. You think I have soft places?" No sexual innuendo meant. Honestly. Okay, fine. Maybe just a little.

Susan made a half chuckle, half giggle. "Yes, as a matter of opinion, I think you do. I think you have a soft underside to that thick shell of yours." She stepped even closer and made like she was examining him.

"Why do you seem like you are putting up your Defensive to me ? It is not just that you think I am bound for the looney bin. And if you do, you should honestly take a look at half the city. But this seems engrained into you from force of habit. You are hiding something. You don't have to tell me, but know that I can see you. And I know something is not up."

She was waiting for his responce when a small group of people came running through the alley from the back exit screaming. Behind them a loud bell could be heard from the building.

"I am---" Wenceslas began, with a little hint of a glare, then stopped as he heard the people screaming, saw them running, and heard the bell. What he meant to say to finish that sentence was 'not'.

"What in God's name is this all about?" He questioned, black brows raising, curiously.

(Sorry I didn't reply sooner.)

(It took me, what ? Two months. I don't think a couple of days make much difference.)

Susan had been around the theatre long enough to know what the fire alarms sounded like. She grabbed Wenceslas by the wrist and ran to the street with him in tow. "Thats the fire alarm," she informed him. She wanted to ask him one more question, but even more-so, she wanted an answer.

"I'm not an idiot. I know that's the fire alarm, but what for?" He inquired once again. Now his brows were furrowed, making him appear mildly angry.

"And, to answer your questions, I am not. Why do you want to know?"

"I have no idea. It is probably a prank," she guessed. She probably had something to do with it, but Susan was not going to say so.

"You just seem different than the people that I usually encounter in my rounds. You don't have the same fear or weakness about you that I usually associate with these people. You seem more alert and act like there is something to hide." She took a deep breath and continued. "You don't have to tell me here or now, but I will find out sooner or later. You know as well as I do that someone cannot hide something forever." Probably not the best thing to say to an assassine, but in the excitement, she completely forgot.

"Probably. It'd be amusing to see what they would do should a real fire choose to make its way into their homes. Not many people will believe you then. It's a pity humanity is so very stupid." He shook his head, and took a step in a random direction. He was simply meandering, now.

A small smirk lit up his features, and played across his lips. "I don't know about that. Do you really believe I can't hide something forever?" Sure, he'd have to kill a few people, but what was the difference? People died every day, anyway.