Young Writers Society

It's finally heeeere!

Thief:

Name: Camile Harisson

Age (17-25): 19

Gender: Female

Known as: Cash

Appearance: Cash is 5'5'' with long red hair that she usually ties back. Her brown eyes often seem sly or mischevious and her lips are almost always sporting a very slight, lopsided smirk. She walks straight and has a very quiet, quick step.


Personality: She's extremely sly and seems to love getting into trouble. She can be quite the charmer and is a tad on the greedy side. Though she doesn't talk too much, when she does it's often to make a snide or sarcastic remark, or perhaps something that is actually extremely useful. She lives for the thrill and takes risks. She can never, ever refuse a challenge and is an extremely sore loser. She can be extremely secretive and has a tendancy to give very brief explanations when others ask questions about her. If she likes you, it would be hard to tell until you get yourself into a load of trouble, in which case she does everything in her power to help you. She's secretly a hopeless romantic, though she doesn't let this side of her show.

Background: Cash lived with her father, uncle and grandfather, traveling around Asia. Her uncle and father were theives, and her grandfather was one retired. Her uncle and father taught her all they knew about sneaking around and the sort, and her grandfather taught her her studies and such.
When she was 13, her grandfather died. When she turned 15, her father and uncle took her and moved to Atopolis.

Strengths/Likes: She's incredibly sneaky and quite quick on her feet. She has a sharp mind and an extremely good memory. She rarely gets lost and finds it easy to backtrack. She's quite the charmer when need be (or when she wants to be) and can smooth-talk her way in and out of things easily. She also has resources, which she keeps secret. She's tied to a lot of money and has an extremely high amount of trusted contacts. (Meaning she also knows way more than she probably should)
She loves rain, the dark and sneaking around. She misses Asia, but she enjoys what she does. She loves reading (surprisingly) and tries to stay away from romance when she's around other people. (Nobody really understands why she keeps her romantic side a secret)

Weaknesses/ Dislikes: Her greed can get the best of her sometimes, which lands her in a lot of sticky situations. She has a tendancy to lead people on (though she doesn't usually realize when she does) and has made a lot of male-enemies over the years. She also has an extremely firey temper that she finds hard to control. Due to an injury from when she was 8, just under her left kneecap is extremely weak. If you hit her there hard enough, she's down.
She also suffers from extreme dizzy spells, which she often blacks out from.
She can't stand it when people try to pry at her or when it's too hot outside.

Theme Song: Anberlin - "Godspeed"

Up For Love: Yes!

Other: She secretly hates her accent, and wishes there was some easy way to get rid of it.
She has a pet capuchin monkey named Beanie. Beanie's trained in all the arts of theivery and was actually her grandfather's capuchin's baby.

Oooo... I claim the last boy thief spot! I'll post my profile later... I have an assignment to hand in tomorrow and its only half done!

(We're starting. Profiles will still be accepted.)

Tuli

I beamed and nodded and gazed up at my father lovingly. In the ballroom, there was too much press to act like we were strangers. It was the seventh time I've seen him in seventeen years. Must be some sort of record. We were in the downstairs area of the Atropolin Museum of Fine Arts, 'praising' my father's newest finds. Old DaVinci and Van Gogh and Picasso that I'd steal a few weeks from now.

"Father, I'm going to see a piece in the gallery," I whispered, touching his arm so the press wouldn't think we'd recently had a fight, or that I was surprised at how his arm was plumper than the last time I'd seen him, about three years ago. He nodded and gave me what he must have thought was an endearing smile. It creeped me out.

I stepped quickly into the hall. After several yards, I was upstairs and submersed in bluish darkness. I unvelcroed the waist of my skirt, which is flowy and light weight, and in which I can't run, leap, or tumble. I stuff it in the bag I'd been hiding and do a few stretches, now in a skin tight one-piece, with a rather ridiculous top half (sleeveless and sprinkled with silver dust, ew) but very functional pants. I tear off the god-awful stilettos I'd forced myself into and shove them on top of the skirt. Sliding into some heel-less boots that don't make a sound on the floor, I sped up the stairs.

My target's the first artwork I see. It's an extreme close up, a straight on view of a hummingbird's head, so vivid my breath catches. But in the next second, I'm twirling off the bolts, having disabled the security an hour before. I rolled up the print, nice and tight, I'm reaching down to my bag-

-and something cold, hard, and chafing tightens around my wrists. I see a dark head in the corner of my eye, and then a chuckle.

"You practically glow in the dark!" A guy's voice, definitely. One I've heard.

"Davey Ramone, take these off me right now."

Davey **Past tense or present? You switched **

"Not a chance, Tuli," I grab the painting, and begin to work on the frame, "I need this more than you do."

"Doubt it," she counters.

"Seriously. I'm running low on cash, and I'm in the middle of trying to get this LP by the Stains from eBay...almost $300 right there, and the auction ends tomorrow morning," I explain this to her, and I can see her try, without much effort, not to laugh.

"Really? That's what you plan on spending your money on?"

"Not all of it. You're also going to dinner with me tomorrow night," I smirked at her, knowing that she'd probably play hard-to-get and reject me. Or, if she realized I had the foresight to know that would happen, she'd possibly agree to completely throw me off. Either way, I knew what to expect.

Tuli

"Not a chance," I repeat. "And that's Houdina to you."

I twist backwards and throw my arms to my front, then pull my leg in close, then kick it out. The chain of the cuffs snaps, and my foot follows through to Davey's throat. He chokes a little, and I don't feel an ounce of regret as I yank the print away and whack him with it. I shove it in my bag and drop a tulip petal on the carpet before taking off, not making a single sound. I leap off the railing and tumble onto the landing below, than out of the side door, out the fire escape.

The Steed is waiting, and I'm barely on it when Davey appears over the railing. He lands a little clumsily, but I can't comment under my helmet. I'm already roaring away, anyway. Out of this side street and away from the museum five seconds before the alarms are ringing.

I don't know what Davey's managed, but I can feel the print tucked against my leg and my bag still the same weight. Perhaps half an ounce lighter, even.

I don't see the beige paper fluttering behind me.

Can't post now, so could someone bring my charries in? Or just Jessie?

Houdina? What? I think as I walk out onto the sidewalk, massaging my throat. She'd kicked me! I wince as I swallow, testing to see how much it hurt. A bit, but not enough to really damage. I rejoice to myself; I'd survived a potentially lethal blow. I wonder what even motivated her to go to such an extreme. Shaking my head, I turn left down a road, one that leads to my tiny apartment. I look down at my shoe, seeing a piece of paper stuck to it. It had rained recently, but the paper isn't as soaked as it should be. I grab for it and turn it over in my hands, examining it. It's an envelope, the paper creamy, and the color...I guess someone would call the color "bone" or any of the other goofy names the upper-class are bored enough to call it. It looked kind of off-white to me. There's a name written in block letters, a very personal touch in today's world of Facebook event planning. Tulip Cosner.

The metaphorical light bulb lights above my head, and a faint grin spreads across my lips. The Boss may be angry that Houdina got the print--but he'd help me get some information on this girl.

-----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Anna

The interrogation room's dimly lit, and smells like day-old coffee. I wrinkle my nose as I open the door and head in.

A girl, known only to us in the force as Jessie, sits at the table. Her hands are folded in her lap, and she's staring down at them. According to the report, she'd been taking in for loitering outside a museum, armed with a box cutter and pen knife. Given her past, she wasn't going to pull them on anyone, but perhaps use them for nabbing a Van Gogh.

"Jessie, you're not under arrest," I speak, as condescendingly as I can, to the girl. She's my age, but she's not nearly as mature. The whole Goth look just screamed angsty young adult, and I wasn't going to take any of it. I'd grown to have little patience with anyone, but especially the goths, or the cheap-o emo imitations. "We just need to ask you a couple questions, and then you're free to go."

**That okay, sakin?**

**Thanks**

~Jessie~

"If I'm not under arrest, then let me go," I said flatly. She didn't seem to be as tolerant as some of the other cops had been.

"Questions first, then freedom," she answered. I sighed, sliding down in the seat and crossing my arms.

"Speak," I said, voice softer than I needed it to be. I wasn't going to be shaken by these walls I'd been in so many times. I wasn't going to be lost in the many memories I'd had from this place. Just get the questions over with, and I'll be out of this dump, I told myself. You're not gonna fall apart here, in front of them.

>Sorry it's not long, I just got back from a church youth gathering thing, and I'm in an emotional state<

Davey

"Yeah, the name...Tulip Cosner? Ring any bells?" I whisper into the mouthpiece of my Android. I much prefer texting, but the Boss was very particular--phone calls only.

"Hm. The Cosner name is fairly well known. I'll get back to you with some information. If I don't call you in twenty minutes, call me."

"Right, sir." I hang up the phone and answer some messages. It's going to be a long and boring wait, so I blast The Clash, singing along. "Rocking the Casbah, Rock the Casbah!"

A few moments later, my phone rings. The Boss works quickly. "Hello?" I ask, turning the music down.

"Yeah, your girlie? I got some stuff for you. Got a pen and paper handy?"

I write down her address and phone number, tucking the paper in my pocket. Running off to her apartment now would be foolish, so he decided he'd pay a visit to her tomorrow or the day after.

---------

Anna

"If you could kindly tell us what you were doing outside the museum on Main Street with these a box cutter and pen knife, we will gladly let you go," Anna said, smirking.

She was convinced of Jessie's guilt already.

Tuli

"Evening, Robert." I said, nodding to the elevator boy. He smiled winningly and clicked my floor. I liked Robert. he never questioned me, even when my top half was in a evening gown, my bottom half was in spy-gear pants, I had a lumpy black bag over my shoulder, and a canister strapped to my back.

I yawned and tossed the canister on the couch, changing swiftly into a loose t-shirt and even looser sleep pants. Splashing the evening's makeup off my face, I set out to the kitchen.

"Rubes? Ruby? Rue, come on," I called. There was the sound of claws scratching floor, and then two opalescent eyes were staring into mine. I scratched Ruby's back, which arched, and started recounting tonight's event to her.

"See, the gala really was nothing much. Dad gained some weight. But when I got into the gallery- it was so cool! Rue, you would've loved it. There were a lot of things to climb, and lots of textures. I was rolling up the print -you might freak out over it, it's a bird- and then that Ramone cuffed me. I got out though, kicked his throat. I got away on the Steed, and I still have the print."

I'm being rather smug, I know, but allow me some slack. I've got a cat with the attention span of a squirrel on Red Bull and a virtually mute elevator boy to talk to.

~Oscar~

I paced the small office restlessly, giving the espresso machine an occassional glare as it slowly heated up. The ridiculously cheap low-quality thing always took about fifteen minutes to get ready in the morning, which was sixteen minutes more than I could stand.

Twenty minutes later I was the proud holder of a steaming cup of coffee, and considerably more awake. But still bored. My gaze flickered to the interrogation room, where I knew Anna was interviewing a suspected art thief. I'd been specifically directed by Anna not to enter the room at any point - she'd mentioned something about my poor interviewing technique, or something like that.

Still... an art thief. It wasn't often that one of those was ever caught. Surely it'd be ridiculous for me to miss out on the opportunity to assist with catching one, right?

Decision made, I picked up each of the three coffee cups surrounding me, then made my way over to knock on the interrogation room door with my forehead. Moments later, I was greeted by an unimpressed Anna. "No." she said flatly, starting to shut the door. I slid in before she could lock me back out, smiling guilty at her as she sighed at me in resignation. "What do you wa-"

"Coffee?" I offered cheerfully, holding out a mug towards her. Anna narrowed her eyes, pointedly ignoring this gesture, and I turned to the suspect with equal mirth. Evidently the caffeine had begun to sink in.

"What are you trying to do?" the girl scowled at me, sliding even further down her seat. My eyes widened innocently as Anna turned to me with an irritated expression. "Yes, Oscar. What are you doing?"

"I'm just offering coffee. Common courtesy, nothing more. What makes you think I could possibly have any ulterior motives?"

Jessie sniffed disbelievingly, rolling her eyes. "You're an investigator, you're all always after something."

I smirked slightly, placing each of the cups down and giving Jessie a thoughtful look. "Is that so?"

"Yes." she answered defiantly, glare hardening but still not meeting either the gaze of either Anna or me.

"Well, why don't you tell us about the last time you were investigated, if you happen to know so much about the proceedure? You seem quite the expert." I sat down beside Anna, staring expectantly at the girl opposite.