This was a bad idea.
Remington had been trying to go straight. She'd been trying to keep away from the nightlife, the chases and shootouts and adrenaline rushes. The life of a criminal was short; the life of an impulsive one, shorter. Somehow she managed to forget all of that; she had startlingly found herself in the middle of a jewelry store, of all places. It was fortunately empty- A skinny, ragged, pale, night owl of a girl in a luxury goods shop? Ridiculous. Especially considering how she had tried so hard to be good. But here she was.
Her fingers twitched.
This was a bad idea.
With effort, she stopped and turned, pointing herself towards the door. She wouldn't. She would just walk right out of here. No problem. Her worn, damp sneakers squeaked in protest as she padded towards the exit, doing her very best to ignore all of the shinies in those useless, fragile cases.
But--
She stopped, fidgeting absently, her slender fingers moving aimlessly as her gaze slowly slid to the shelves. Oh, such pretty things. And valuable, too, she knew. She had never stopped here before, but she had always been able to ferret out the nicest things. The shop proprietor wasn't even here- pawing through boxes in the back room, no doubt. Her eyes flicked upwards, scanning the ceiling. No cameras? He really should be more responsible. This was San Paro, after all.
Her stomach growled.
Maybe this wasn't such a bad idea. Maybe- maybe just one. Just one wouldn't hurt the owner, would it? Just one wouldn't call down the law, not with the shootings and bombings and arson. And she was just one girl. She wasn't threatening. She hadn't hurt anyone. She took a shallow breath, entranced by the glittering. Just... just one?
Take it. Take it. Take it take it take it take it--
And suddenly there was the sound of broken glass and screeching alarms and panting breath and she found herself outside. A necklace was looped around her fingers, clutched tightly as she sprinted down the sidewalk, the spatterings of rain bringing her back. The rush of claiming dulled as a siren sounded in the distance, and she ducked into an alleyway, scrambled over a fence-- this city was dangerous for everyone, especially foolish thieves. The vigilantes, the police, they would all be coming for her. One was good for running, for hiding, but just one stood no chance against the enforcers.
She knew this was a bad idea.
Remington whined softly and skittered away, low to the ground- if she could just find a place to hide.
[Just a small introduction to the character. I'm a little rusty, and Remy's a new one of mine, but hopefully it's presentable. :3]
Remington had been trying to go straight. She'd been trying to keep away from the nightlife, the chases and shootouts and adrenaline rushes. The life of a criminal was short; the life of an impulsive one, shorter. Somehow she managed to forget all of that; she had startlingly found herself in the middle of a jewelry store, of all places. It was fortunately empty- A skinny, ragged, pale, night owl of a girl in a luxury goods shop? Ridiculous. Especially considering how she had tried so hard to be good. But here she was.
Her fingers twitched.
This was a bad idea.
With effort, she stopped and turned, pointing herself towards the door. She wouldn't. She would just walk right out of here. No problem. Her worn, damp sneakers squeaked in protest as she padded towards the exit, doing her very best to ignore all of the shinies in those useless, fragile cases.
But--
She stopped, fidgeting absently, her slender fingers moving aimlessly as her gaze slowly slid to the shelves. Oh, such pretty things. And valuable, too, she knew. She had never stopped here before, but she had always been able to ferret out the nicest things. The shop proprietor wasn't even here- pawing through boxes in the back room, no doubt. Her eyes flicked upwards, scanning the ceiling. No cameras? He really should be more responsible. This was San Paro, after all.
Her stomach growled.
Maybe this wasn't such a bad idea. Maybe- maybe just one. Just one wouldn't hurt the owner, would it? Just one wouldn't call down the law, not with the shootings and bombings and arson. And she was just one girl. She wasn't threatening. She hadn't hurt anyone. She took a shallow breath, entranced by the glittering. Just... just one?
Take it. Take it. Take it take it take it take it--
And suddenly there was the sound of broken glass and screeching alarms and panting breath and she found herself outside. A necklace was looped around her fingers, clutched tightly as she sprinted down the sidewalk, the spatterings of rain bringing her back. The rush of claiming dulled as a siren sounded in the distance, and she ducked into an alleyway, scrambled over a fence-- this city was dangerous for everyone, especially foolish thieves. The vigilantes, the police, they would all be coming for her. One was good for running, for hiding, but just one stood no chance against the enforcers.
She knew this was a bad idea.
Remington whined softly and skittered away, low to the ground- if she could just find a place to hide.
[Just a small introduction to the character. I'm a little rusty, and Remy's a new one of mine, but hopefully it's presentable. :3]
