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Post by Fionn Mac Cumhaill on Mar 13, 2008 1:42:35 GMT -5
A New Day "Dia duit ar maidin," a much older Crimthann Farraideach said, nodding to the clerk at the small service station. "Conas ta tu?" He asked, with a pleasant smile. Crimthann stood at about 6'1 to 6'3, depending on the camera angle. Slightly long brown hair crept down over his neck and shoulders. He was a pale lad with bright green eyes, which right now were fixed on the bored-looking shop attendant. The attendant sighed, pushing her hair out of the way. "An bhfuil bearla agat?" She asked in a somewhat annoyed manner. "Ta!" Crimthann said, still grinning despite her ruining his fun. "What's the matter, love? Don't like Gaelic?" "Haven't spoken it since I was a small sh**e." The girl said. "I see." He said, looking around the store, before looking over the counter, behind the clerk. "Is the milk back there fresh?" The girl glanced behind her at the coolers, then shrugged. "I'll check." "Thanks." Crimthann said. Once the girl turned around, he jammed a handful of the small merchandise --foods, candy, so on-- into his pocket. When she came back, he was still smiling. "It's fresh. Good for a couple weeks." She said. "Ah, thanks. I'll have a quart." He said, reaching in his wallet and setting the money on the counter, taking the bottle and winking to her. "Thank you!" "Cead mile failte!" She replied, smiling back. He opened the quart, stepping out and taking a drink. Then, he walked to the waiting car. Getting in, he drove about a block away. Inside, a friend of his named Ronan was waiting with a change of clothes. He exchanged jackets and gloves. The friend took the keys, and went out to Crimthann's car. Crimthann took a pistol from his friend, put on a balaclava and proceeded further into the building. The building was the back end of a museum. Inside, the curator was surveying some of her recent acquisitions. A few urns from Greece, a couple chipped and rusted old swords... But the prize was a platinum statue of a dog. The dog statue was made entirely of platinum, with red jems inlaid along the ears and tail of the creature. It was a dog from Welsh mythology, standing on three legs, the right front paw raised; pointing its nose towards the east. It was sitting on a dolly, having just arrived. The curator wasn't a terribly old woman, mid-thirties at best. She was a published author, and taught classes on archeology and history at the trinity college. Crimthann knocked on her door softly. She set an urn down, and walked over to the door, opening it. "Hello?" "Hello, miss curator," Crimthann said, raising the pistol. His "Am I interrupting?" "Oh, god!" She said, raising her hands to her face. "Just keep quiet, peachy, and I'll be out of here in a minute," he said, motioning with the gun for her to take a seat. Following her behind the chair, where he handcuffed both her wrists in place. Then, he put a piece of tape over her mouth. "Sorry about the informalities," he said, "Just coming to peruse the goods. See what we've got," He added, turning to the antiques in the room. He moved past the urns, gently picking up one of the swords, and then looking to the statue of the dog. He grinned. "We have a winner..." He muttered, glancing back at the curator who was mumbling objections into the tape over her mouth. He took no notice, and went to prop the door open. He came back and picked up the handle of the dolly. Glancing at the curator, he smiled holding up the pistol so she could see the butt, where the clip slid in. There was no clip in the pistol. He then rolled the statue out the back, to the car; and loaded it in with his friend Ronan. Crimthann and Ronan drove it to Crimthann's safehouse. Once unloaded, the two grabbed some guinness and Jameson's, and admired the statue. "How long until we can fence it?" Ronan asked. "Not long," Crimthann said. "We're going to Edinburgh tomorrow to meet the fences," he said. "Good news is, there'll be a lot of unaffiliated hands there. We ought to be able to get a proper unit going." "You're still wanting to go after the four treasures?" Ronan asked. "Too right, mate," Crimthann said, pulling on the chain around his neck, pulling out the softly-pulsing stone. "And we've already got one of them. All we need are names and locations." "And a few friends." Ronan added. Crimthann nodded. "Exactly," He said, pouring the whiskey into two shot glasses and handing one to Ronan. They clinked their glasses together. "Slainte!" The two said, then they knocked back the glasses and swallowed. A day later, the two were pulling a large box on a trolley into a hotel room in Edinburgh. This was going to be a large, large meeting of thieves. Deals would be made and hopefully, the stolen statue would be out of their hands within a couple of hours. More importantly, Crimthann thought as he picked a seat at the hotel bar, he could find a few spare hands to help him round up the four treasures of Ireland. Just as his father wanted; he would get those treasures. With a little luck, they would also get back at the bastard who stole the spear of Lugh and killed his dad. "Whiskey," he said, nodding to the barman and looking to the lobby, trying to judge just who was and wasn't a criminal. It wasn't terribly hard. The hotel hadn't seen much business before this veiled thief-conference and now people were swarming. It would certainly be an interesting time, here on out.
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Post by The Mammoth on Mar 16, 2008 22:13:48 GMT -5
Mordin was sitting in his home in Chicago in the U.S. when he received a call from overseas. He picked up the remote to his television, turning off the morning news, and picked up the phone. Assuming it was a job, seeing how he had just recently completed his investigation on a band of thieves robbing New York blind, he figured the next group on the list would follow soon, looking to hire him. What he didn't expect however, was a call from Ireland. "Mr. Delris. We have a situation we think could be to your... expertise..." The woman said, her soft voice one he didn't expect for a business call to a private detective. "Yeah?" He said, his gruff, raspy voice rattling off. "Not too long ago, a museum here was robbed. It was a... rather important item that was stolen. The thieves went for it and only it. And well... we have a feeling this is going to happen again." "What gives you the idea its not a fluke?" "Well... its one of 4 treasures of Ireland, as we call them. They're rather important to us. Someone years ago tried to take them, and it seems they were executed by someone inside their own group. They somehow made their way back to us." "Okay..." Mordin said, not convinced, but interested nonetheless, "So let's talk numbers shall we? 10,000 U.S. dollars per day, another 100,000 when the job is done. My regular rate." The woman was obviously annoyed at his expense... but he was the best there was... "How about 8000?" "If you want me to find these punks, its 10,000." "Then 10,000 it is." "I'll be on a plane in an hour. Be there by daybreak tomorrow." Mordin hung up the phone, prepared his breifcase, and grabbed his jacket. He didn't dress like a detective, which maybe was the reason he was so good at blending in. He wore jeans and a hooded sweatshirt in the winter, or jeans and a black T-shirt in the summer. He didn't often stray from that uniform. He wore a Brown overcoat, usually to cover the fact he was carrying weapons. On the drive down to the airport, he called in, finding a flight with two words, "It's Mordin." His flights were random, nobody knew when or where they were, but every airline knew him, and they knew he paid 10 times the highest price of the ticket so that they would keep quiet and get him a flight on command. Now that he got his ticket to Ireland, no doubt making some poor soul wait for the next flight due to a "computer error", all he had to do was spend some time at the airport, and on the plane... ---- The next morning he arrived, nobody recognized him, nobody knew him. He made d**n sure his face never showed up on the news or in the media. If they did, he made sure to never do business with that city, or country, again. That was reason enough to cause his face to be unrecognized by most people. His name, however, was something everyone who watched the news knew... After a few minutes at the airport, grabbing what little luggage he brought, he contacted the woman who had called, her name was Melanie, apparently worked for the law on the national level, looking to quickly put an end to these robberies. Mordin was curious why one theft led to such an uproar, and what could be so important about these items that they called him . "So..." "Meet me in the 24 hour coffee shop, southeast of you, in Edinburgh ((this is mainly because i know nothing about Ireland, so I'm running with the city you named )). I'll give you the directions..." As the woman rambled on and Mordin took down the notes of how to get there, he rented a car, and started the drive down.
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Post by Jess on Mar 16, 2008 22:23:58 GMT -5
Making his way through the crowd of thieves is Dominique, clad in his usual andydrognous garmets. Hips sway too and fro, barefeet daintilly toeing the floor with each tip-toey step he makes as he maneuvers his way through the crowd of thieves.
"Hey babe..." A nearby man says as he walks by, slapping him on the behind. Dom shakes his head, and despite the high-picthiness of his voice states firmly and clearly; "I'm a man." And continues on. It doesn't take too long befre the dainty slicer finds himself in a similar situation.
"Hey there princess, want to go get a drink sometime?" The man is debonair, charming, and good-looking despite Dom's own personal tastes. Dom sighs again, "Look dude, I'm a freaking man. Please, go hit on someone else 'Kay?" He shakes his head and mutters some curses in Elven before continuing on through the crowd.
Then another man wraps his arm around his waist and scoops him up, "Well... Hello there..." Dom's face turns beet red as he shouts, "I'M A MAN!" As loud as he can, just in case some peple didn't quite get the pictue. The place gets quiet, as he indignantly crosses his arms and stares on the man holding him. The man blinks, "Ya serious?" And Dom shakes his head with a sarcastic, "Yeah." Before he mutters something else in elven.
The man shudders and drops Dom to the floor, "I gotta drink somethin'..." Is muttered before he heads over to the bar- leaving poor old Dom there on the floor, confused, violated, and hurt.
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Post by Fionn Mac Cumhaill on Mar 17, 2008 16:10:40 GMT -5
(Edinburgh is in Scotland. >_>. )
Crimthann finished his whiskey quickly. The statue of Cwn Annwn would have to go pretty quickly. That'd net them a good chunk of money, but they'd need to get more to begin searching for the treasures proper. They'd need to nab a few team mates while they were here trying to fence the statue. He pulled on the chain around his neck, exposing the softly glowing stone that hung from it. He narrowed his eyes on it for a second, thinking.
He blinked, looking over his shoulder when he heard a bit of commotion. He cocked his head as a drunkard dropped what was apparently a somewhat distraught woman, but in actuality a miffed elf lad, to the floor. Crimthann laughed a little bit.
"Oi, lad," Crimthann said to the irritated elf. "Best pick yerself up before another drunkard does it fer ya," He said, raising his empty glass towards the ambiguous fellow.
Crimthann then shot a warning glance to the drunk who had been talking to the elf. When the drunk got another bottle, Crimthann spoke. "Suggest Y'fook off while Y'still have the legs T'carry you, mate."
The drunk eyed Crimthann wearily, and stumbled off.
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Post by Jess on Mar 17, 2008 18:03:07 GMT -5
Dom picked himself up off the floor and swatted the dust off of his pants and sides, "Grrrr...." He growled idignantly at another passers-by who gae him a significant glance. Seemed his little outburst helped stop the drunkards...
With a sigh he pushes a loose strand of hair behind a pointy-ear and walks over to the bar to take a seat next to the man who had spoken to him earlier. As the woman behind the bar approaches he places an order for some Ginerale with a slice of Lime. With a nod the woman moves off to make the drink.
"Thankyou for the help..." The lad says, offering the other gentlemen a hand, "Dominique... computer hacker extraordinair." The introduction is simple, and spoken with the typical elven grace that has come to be expected from them.
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Post by The Mammoth on Mar 17, 2008 21:43:13 GMT -5
((oops. Sorry, i'm a dumb American. Lol. Assume that he was sent there, and thats where he landed, i'll continue my characters part in a few posts. I went to public school, we learn sh** about other countries, and I never really looked into it either sorry again!))
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Post by Fionn Mac Cumhaill on Mar 17, 2008 23:42:07 GMT -5
(No worries, I'm a dumb American too. xD. I went to Edinburgh for a theatre competition. >_>. I just know the stuff about Europe because we do a bit of traveling.)
Crimthann cocked an eyebrow. "Hacker, huh," He started, taking the elf's hand and shaking it firmly. He quickly tapped the bar for another glass of whiskey. "M'name's Crimthann. Pleasure T'meetcha, Dom," He added with a small smile.
A hacker? A hacker extraordinair, no less? That could come in very handy on a job... Especially a bank job, which is what Crimthann felt they would have to pull next.
Crimthann picked up the newly filled glass, turning back to face the bar.
"Hate to bring business up so soon, but... What do you know about bank robbing, Mr. Dom?" Crimthann asked, glancing towards the Elf with a curious expression.
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Post by Jess on Mar 18, 2008 0:21:35 GMT -5
Dom crosses his legs, "I know that your not getting in the vault without first taking out the information network bound to the security... and I also know you can't do that without first taking out a layer of defensive firewalls set in place to stop /me/ from getting in." He pauses and offers a smirk, as his drink arrives. "I also know that I'm the only man here capable of doing it..."
He effiminately reaches over to flick at the umbrella in his drink, before wrapping serpentine fingers about the stem o cradle the wine glass itself. He tips the cup back to take a drink, running his tongue over his lips to get the taste of the lime. "So... whichbank are you planning on robbing and why?"
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Post by Fionn Mac Cumhaill on Mar 18, 2008 1:54:07 GMT -5
Crimthann cocked an eyebrow, looking the elf over. Poor lad. Looks like a girl, sounds like a girl, and acts like one to an extent. Had Crimthann not been sober enough to have heard the warnings before, he may have made a pass himself. He grinned at the comments. This one has spirit. That's promising. "The only one here capable," Crimthann repeated.
Crimthann took a small gulp from the glass. "Well, to be honest, we haven't picked a bank yet," Crimthann said. "But we're in need of a fairly big sum of money..."
Crimthann looked to the door as his only partner of the moment, Ronan Doyle, walked in. Ronan had hidden the statue away, to await the sale.
"I know it doesn't sound good," Crimthann said, looking over to Dom. "But if you're the best there is, then we bloody well want T'have Y'on our team."
Crimthann waved Ronan over. "That's M'partner, Ronan," Crimthann started. "We've got a... Vested interest in findin' some treasures."
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Post by Crow on Mar 18, 2008 2:20:11 GMT -5
Nearby Kojiro drained the last of his drink as he heard the news about a heist. Maybe this is somthing to get into.... He thought to himself. Screw it.... He walked over, pushing a strand of his purple hair out of his face. "Hey, you guys should really be more quiet about this kind of stuff.You never know who's going to be listening in at the time!"
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Post by Da Pwny on Mar 18, 2008 6:31:38 GMT -5
*i'll post a profile tomorrow... d**n computer flocked up on me and now I have to start on it all over again, and i want to get this post in while there's still darkness outside >.> so yeah... be going to sleep after this is on the page...*
"Who indeed..." a lady sitting nearby cooed to herself rather quietly under her breath, inaudible to anyone but one sitting right next to her. Oh yes, she had been listening... she'd been here all afternoon, in fact, waiting for something interesting to pop up. Watching the elf get flustered by drunks making passes at him was rather entertaining, but there was something else she was looking for; it was fact that the piece that the news stated had been stolen would be going to a nearby museum, but what was not commonly known was that the piece that would be on display was, in fact, a fake created to look and weigh exactly the same as the real one... which just happened to be heading to Daciana's private collection before it so conveniently turned up missing...
And now her own plot was ruined because some thugs were out to make some quick cash. Who they were, however, was a mystery. And she so desperately wanted to know so she could congratulate them herself on a job well done... right before planting a few bullets in their brains or stabbing them in the back, or something similarly gruesome and demeaning. The point was, was that the Romanian Wolf did not like having her preciouses touched, especially not by filthy hands... And thus why she was here, upon a hunch.
Word was in the underworld that some daring Scotsman or Irishman (she never really could tell the difference, except in name and a bit of their speech) had gone and done it, but that didn't narrow her search down much... until now. This fellow caught her interest, especially considering the description the curiour had given... but until something significant was stated, she would stay put, with her nose in her book, half-reading and half-listening... Her slitted eyes played back and forth between her read and the small group forming, safely hidden behind a pair of slightly-tinted reading glasses, which were light enough not to attract attention, but dark enough to make it hard, if not impossible, to tell where her eyes were from a distance...
The fact that she was only listening, and not particularly watching, made it a bit easier... Her hearing was rather keen, though not exactly supernatural by any means. The only thing physically supernatural was her eyes, the one thing she could not compress and the only thing she actually physically hid when necessary... She simply waited it out for now, knowing that one of her many 'rats' would soon come to her with the information she needed and could actually use...
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Post by piñata on Mar 18, 2008 11:42:05 GMT -5
Kaitlyn heard the effiminate Elf's protests and smiled to herself. She sat down on his other side, flipped her long black hair back, and said, "Thank ye. Usually I'm the one bein' hit on the most... ye saved me havin' to bust some heads." She was just trying to make him feel better... if someone had hit on her, she would be in their hotel room by now, and busting heads would be the furthest thing from her mind. But most of these people had already had her, so she got ignored at these things a lot more than she used to.
"Name's Kaitlyn," she added, extending a hand Dominique's way. "Most people call me Flirt, though. I overheard yer a hacker... that's somethin' I'd like to learn. Think y'could teach me?" She had also overheard something about a bank heist, but she didn't want to let that on just yet... better to be invited to join the team, than to seem desperate. Besides, if any of these jokers were actually players in the Irish underworld, they would recognize her name.
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Post by Jess on Mar 18, 2008 14:38:03 GMT -5
((o.O I feel a bit...overwhelmed atm.))
Dom smiles, taking another sip of his drink while giving Ronan a sidelong glace. And then more and more people start pouring into the conversation. "T-thankyou..." He says, setting the wineglass down with a shaky hand as people became accosting him with information.
The elf gulped down his nervousness as he waved off Kojiro and looked at Kaitlyn. Hey! Its the Faeire girl... "Hey you..." Is all that he says, as the bartender approaches him and closes up the space. More swear begins to drip down from his forehead as claustrophobia settles in.
His chest starts heaving a little bit as his breathing becomes short and shallow, "I...c-can...teach..." A nod. "Is it g-getting hot in here?" He tugs at his tube top a little bit but otherwise his breathing gets a bit worse. To...many...people...
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Post by Fionn Mac Cumhaill on Mar 18, 2008 15:02:10 GMT -5
Crimthann cocked an eyebrow, glancing at Kojiro. "Look around, mate. I'm not particularly worried 'bout cops in this place." He said.
Ronan on the other hand looked at Kaitlyn, narrowing his eyes on her. "Kaitlyn?" He asked. "By me Jaysus, yer that Faery!"
Crimthann looked to Dom, then around at the group. Jaysus, people gathered quickly. "Jaysus, got a bit group here...." He muttered. "Let's move out of the bar, yeah? Somewhere more private," He started, then pointed to Kojiro. "Since random fella here is apparently concerned for our privacy."
Ronan nodded. "Look, we've got some opportunities if any O'you are interested. If Y'are, C'mon. If not, then fack off."
With that, Ronan started out of the bar. Crimthann finished his whiskey and stood, running a hand through his hair and quickly looking about the room before starting off after Ronan.
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Post by Crow on Mar 18, 2008 15:06:42 GMT -5
"Well hell, wasn't expecting a crowd like this.....Besides, you can never know. Once I was talking about somthing similar and some undercover cop walked over and pointed a gun at my head!" He followed Crimthann out.
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