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Post by gypsy on Sept 7, 2006 11:52:01 GMT -5
*Anya tip-toed through the wings, having gained entrance by a side-door. The police had spied her, and a chase had ensued through the streets--but she hadn't spent years in Paris for nothing. She quickly evaded them and had run into the Opera to hide--a bold move they would not expect. She leaned against a set piece, panting from her run, her hair tumbling and wild about her face, and her simple, coarse bodice slipping from her heaving bosom before she remembered to hitch it up, pulling her sleeves back onto her shoulders. Her tatty patchwork skirt and petticoats hung only to the middle of her calves, which had made the running much easier, and pursuit much harder on the policemen who were not used to chasing down athletic young women. Anya leaned down and rubbed at her bruised feet with a frown and a sigh.* It could have been much worse. But now they'll be patrolling the area, looking for me, all night, hoping I'll come back to find my way back to the caravans outside the city. I'd better bunk here for the night...
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Post by Sydney on Sept 7, 2006 18:42:58 GMT -5
Sydney just had to scrub her "plans" for a target due to excess noise near her post. She disassembled her M16 rifle and placed it in it's case within seconds. She took out her switch blade and started to run--BUMP!
Sydney had run into some girl..."Who the hell are you?" She said angrily, threatening her with her switchblade that the girl's neck, ready to rip it open with one flick of her wrist.
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Post by gypsy on Sept 7, 2006 23:09:08 GMT -5
*Anya froze at the touch of cool metal against her skin.* "No one of consequence," *she said in low, steely tones.*
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Post by Sydney on Sept 8, 2006 18:36:43 GMT -5
Sydney peered at the girl for any sign of deception. Finding none, she retracted the switch blade and stood up. "Sorry about that. I have to take certain precautions in my line of work. I hope you'll understand." Sydney put away her switch blade in her pocket.
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Post by gypsy on Sept 8, 2006 21:38:02 GMT -5
"Oh, I do," *said Anya with a grin, pulling aside a fold of her skirt to reveal a slim dagger in a leather sheath hanging from her waist.* "A girl can't be too careful."
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Post by Sydney on Sept 9, 2006 14:06:40 GMT -5
Sydney grinned at the sight of the dagger. Hopefully, she had found an accomplis. "That's true. By the way, why are you down here?"
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Post by gypsy on Sept 9, 2006 14:13:49 GMT -5
*Anya shrugged.* "Need a place to hide out for a while. Seemed as good a place as any back here."
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Post by Sydney on Sept 9, 2006 14:22:16 GMT -5
Sydney sneezed. "True. But this place needs to get dusted." Sydney set down her case that contained her disassembled M16. "Exactly, what are you hiding from?"
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Post by gypsy on Sept 9, 2006 14:23:48 GMT -5
"The police,' *said Anya simply, with a shrug.*
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Post by Sydney on Sept 9, 2006 14:45:08 GMT -5
Sydney laughed. "Those losers don't know the first thing about catching girls like us. They think of us like some common burglers. They have no idea..." Syd looked around casually. "What did you do to get chased into this dump?"
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Post by gypsy on Sept 9, 2006 23:56:35 GMT -5
"Drew breath, I think," *said Anya dryly.* "I swear, I could belch and those bastards'd have me swinging from a noose before I could say 'excuse me.'"
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Post by Sydney on Sept 10, 2006 0:50:57 GMT -5
Sydney gave a snigger. She didn't have to deal with pathetic police in her occupation because it was all clandestine, however, she remembered how it was before. Sighing, Syd spoke. "So, do you steal or kill or cheat, or what?"
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Post by gypsy on Sept 10, 2006 16:28:38 GMT -5
"Steal and cheat, mostly," *said Anya.* "But nothing so droll today. Today was pure pandering." *She patted the inner pocket where she'd secreted her purse full of coins, making it clink satisfactorily.*
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Post by Sydney on Sept 10, 2006 16:50:09 GMT -5
Sydney laughed. "I'm kinda glad I didn't go into street crime now!" She joked.
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Post by gypsy on Sept 10, 2006 21:00:14 GMT -5
"I'm not in it by choice, anyhow, but it's the only way of life I know." Well, that's not true. But muddled memories aren't a life. They were probably all a dream. *She laughed at herself.* What kind of gypsy "remembers" waking up in a feather bed with a silken counterpane and embroidered nightdress...or even a nightdress at all? No doubt it's some childish daydream I've made real in my mind.
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