#basso thief

[katabay]

thief babyyyyyy

some of these are a follow up to the last thief post I made (the bottom comic is a day after the basso breaks garrett out of jail scene) but the rest of it is just. thoughts. ideas. the clock tower and the immediate snaps of change and slower but equally inevitable turn of events. aughhhh

⭐ places I’m at! bsky / pixiv / pillowfort /cohost / cara.app / tip jar!

[karrasyne]

hmmmm sketch

[supervillain-smut]

Hiya! I've got a hurt/comfort idea for Garrett for you. Recently, me and a friend watched arcane and she cursed me with the image of Garrett dropping down onto basso's desk after a bad night, the same way jinx does with Silco. The crows in my brain decided they needed a more fleshed out version of the idea so I decided to go to my favorite writer

-☠️

Aw, I'm so happy to hear I'm your favourite! That's so sweet! :>

... I hope you like the angst I'm gonna hit you with >:).

Basso grumbled as he swept up his shop. Stupid guards trashed the place before dragging him away to the Keep. He cursed under his breath as he picked up broken pieces, before hearing a caw.

"Oh shut up, Jenivere you... Oh. Right. Bird's gone." Basso muttered defeatedly. He hadn't realized how much he'd miss the intelligent finger-pecking feathered nuisance of a carrier pigeon. He'd bent over to pick up something that had rolled under the shelf before he heard a familiar thud onto a table behind him.

Of course, it didn't stop him from jumping in his skin and hitting his head on said table. "Jesus, Garrett you... you alright?" Basso paused his irate tangent upon actually laying eyes on Garrett. The usually stoic and aloof thief was curled into a ball, hugging his knees to his chest, his face completely obscured, rather than leaning on the doorway, or sitting on the edge of the table, cockier than a rooster like he usually did.

"... I failed, Basso. I've failed everyone that's put anything worth something into me." Garrett spoke hardly above a whisper, just enough so Basso could hear him. It was very, very rare that anyone saw Garrett on his worst days. Basso would see him on not great ones, and they'd talk. But he'd never seen him like this. Basso stood up, leaning on the table next to Garrett.

"I failed Erin. I was supposed to mentor her, teach her. I thought I was doing okay. She's gone now. Because of my mistake. She's dead because of me. I've been failing at my job. The one thing I'm good at. Now I don't even know if my hand'll ever work the same again. I just had to go after that safe." Garrett produced his injured hand, wrapped with bandages; blood was still evident in the centre of his palm as he waved it dismissively before tucking it back under his cloak.

"I failed you. Should have come back with you. Hell, I got you in trouble in the first place. Just being around me seems to be... toxic, nowadays. Even..." Garrett lifted his head finally. His eyes were red, puffy, and brimmed with tears, his usual charcoal around his eyes ran like a noble woman's mascara; he'd been crying for a while. Garrett stared at Jenivere's cage, his tears finally spilling at the reminder of his favourite bird dying in his hands.

Garrett bowed his head again, hiding his face behind his knees, his shoulders softly shaking with what Basso could only assume were silent sobs. He even cries quietly. Basso finally kicked into gear, his shock of seeing Garrett so vulnerable and... almost broken, worn off. He tucked Jenivere's cage behind the desk, before patting Garrett on the back, gentler than usual.

"Garrett, Garrett, Garrett... The best thief in town, the one everyone knows, yet no one ever sees. The man who can break into anywhere and steal anything. My most trusted friend. You have any idea how many bad days people have? How many people are lost per day? You are the cause of a lot of those bad days, for a lot of people, in one night. Now you're worried about it?" Garrett raised his head to look at Basso as he spoke. He wasn't good with this kind of thing, or used to it, but he'd be damned if he couldn't at the very least try for Garrett of all people.

"Buddy, you've never failed me. Every single job I've given you, you've done flawlessly. Every single one. You even busted me out of a collapsing prison in one piece. And Erin? That was her fault, Garrett, not yours. Girl was stubborn to her core, didn't listen to no one. You told her the sky was blue, she'd say it was turquoise. She chose to do what she did, and to not listen to you. Ever. And you never gave up on her! You lost an eye for her, man. Nearly lost your life trying to save her from her mistakes." Garrett glanced around the room, his tears dried as Basso spoke and put a hand on his shoulder, shaking him gently for emphasis on his words.

"Jenivere wasn't your fault, either. And I miss her too, believe it or not. But your best quality has always been your resilience, that stubbornness to never quit and always find a way to make it work. You will find a way out of this, because you have to. If not, this whole place will fall apart, and we'll never make a living. So, take your time. Have your bad day." Basso reached under the counter for a bottle of booze, and poured himself and Garrett a shot each. "Have a drink with me for those we've lost along the way, and I'll see you tomorrow?" Basso raised his shot to Garrett, waiting for his response.

Garrett glanced at the shot, then at Basso, before grabbing it and raising it along with Basso, a small smirk on his lips before they each downed their shot. "Yeah. I'll see you tomorrow, Basso."

[fr00tb0wl]

Been a slow week for art, so have some pieces that have been in the works for a while (AKA: MORE character sheets for the funni Thief AU)

[kenaigamesgallantly]

I wish Basso and the merchant in Siren's Rest a very SHUT UP I'M TRYING TO RECORD GARRETT'S VOICE.

[nightingaletrash]

I made one joke comparison between the Ocean House and Moira Aslyum and now I'm thinking about vtm x thief...

Garrett Jr is a Toreador. He's the least and most Toreador to ever Toreador because he's no social butterfly and doesn't take the best care of his own appearance, but his gear and armour are masterpieces and he craves all manners of beautiful things to stash away in his haven. He's also got that sense of Humanity often associated with Toreadors - he dislikes needless killing and prefers to keep his harm either temporary (such as knock outs) or indirect (via stealing). His disciplines would be Celerity and Auspex.

On the flip side of that, Garrett Sr is a Nosferatu. He can appreciate the value of a piece, but cares nothing for hanging onto it. He's just out to cover his rent and have a good time. If he has a thing against killing, it's for convenience's sake and professionalism rather than any concern for humanity. He just wants to be left alone. His disciplines are Obfuscate and Potence, though he put a point into Animalism during his alliance with Viktoria.

Erin fits the temperamental Brujah mold pretty well. She's impulsive, angry, defaults to violence and killing even when there are other options, and she's very passionate. She feels very strongly and very deeply, especially when it comes to the people she cares about. Unfortunately her anger makes it easy for those feelings to provoke strong reactions from her, for good or ill. She's got the good old one-two punch of Celerity and Potence, and puts some points into Presence later on.

The Queen of Beggars feels like a Malkavian to me; her cryptic phrasing, withholding of information, apparent ability to disappear/teleport at will, supposed power to see through the eyes of the beggars and rats, and her overall role in the story fits Malkavian pretty well. Her title feels like it'd be some kind of jab at the Ventrue. Auspex and Obfuscate are her preferred combo.

I think Basso is a Nossie; he's an information gatherer, the guy who gives out the jobs and lets others get on with it. His partnership with Garrett is novel considering that a Nosferatu and Toreador are usually at each others throats, but they make for a good team when it comes to thieving. He's got Obfuscate and Animalism, with Jenivere being his famalus.

[commanderauri-art]

Really need to hop back onto my Thief fic. This would take place after Garrett basically returns from the dead. Elizabeth starts to hear rumors that the thief has returned and were further confirmed by Basso. She decides then to visit the clock tower and see for herself. There are so many individual scenes that I want to write! I may just end up doing that and then connecting the dots later.

Pose credit -> @adorkastock

[chicago-geniza]

Thinking about Body Thief thanks to The Posts and keep repeating "nun pussy got me acting unwise" in a basso voice with a French accent

[taocc-updates]

”Oh, you like Taocc? Name every character.”

BET.

edit: I added the vague number of total characters listed. We’re at about 270, and I’m still adding characters.

(*By technicality

**formerly/no longer active/no longer acknowledged by the narrative as existing

***exist as of like ten seconds ago

I will only be including characters recognized as part of Taocc by more than one person. Characters will be vaguely grouped together however the frick I feel like and with only the vague suggestion of transitions. A character must have a tangible role that still has effects at the time of posting to be counted. I’m not counting all the deactivated characters from OG Taocc, for example. I am referencing the updates blog list as well as my following for this, because the challenge is to name them all, not to name them all by memory. Animals barely count sometimes when I feel like it.)

Gangle, Ragatha**, Pomni**, Kinger**, Zooble**, Caine*, Bubble**, S-Gangle, Shadow, Kaufmo, Sproingle, Unnamed Abtractions*, Easton West, Northa West, Lonn Gitud, Lattia Tudor, Felicia, Caleb, Zachariah Woods, Zombie anon, Simon Mallory/Silhouette/Aleksander, Isaac Brennan/Mix, Elida Doyle, Alice Mallory, Nikolai Harrison/Carbine, Artemis/Kepler, Calamity/Cassandra, Remnant, Sami Harrison, Yelena, Daniel, Artem, Charles/Plague Doctor Anon, Dialtone/Drias, Ilas/Amalgam, Trevor***, Archie***, Abigail***, Stella***, Paisley***, Espresso the Cat, Edward/Pharaoh, Abayomi, Clown Anon, Colorbine, Helpful Anon, Waffle Anon, Sparkler Anon, Kumo, Kopi, Violet, Stitch, Chance, Nightmare, Arthur Pendragon, Verie Pendragon, Mercutio, Juliet/Assassin Anon, Aokigahara, Dunite, Rocky, Rusty, Ryan, Dunite’s Parents, Deedee, Usagi/Usa, Icia/Ice anon, Fred, Odette/Odysseys, Samuel, Mytha, Celio, Basso, Vaga, Nova, Hexe, Slynn, Yume, Yume’s Mother and Father, the Protector, Ramona/Rae, Mirobelle, Ramiro, Achilles, Dime, Aklatan, Latte, Alexander (kingdom edition), Mocha, Switchboard, Ace Zeppelin, Damsel, Levi, Nathan, Myau, Nya, Mynou, Dusk, Jessy, Amelia, Jessy’s mother, Fynn, Joy, Ciana, Apollo, Virgo, Aster, Lance, Raina, Flare, Citrina, Citrina’s sisters (the only named one is “Jade”), Nymn, Nymn’s ex, Fae anon, Clara, Chip, Alpen, Unnamed Zodiac Angels, Kade, Feris, Pixel, Vanessa, Unnamed Arcade Worker 2/Mike, Conny, Shairo (deceased permanently), Hans, “John Smith”, Gun Pirate (lol), Unnamed Drunk Pirate, Unnamed Jar Lady, Unnamed third pirate with a gun, Dalia, Mikey, Anderson, Toga, Abstraction Anon, Quin, Blaze (Squiffer edition)/Zephyr, Skeleton anon, Mage Anon/Tanya, Camara, Avian, Sign Anon/Steven, Origami Anon/Octavia, Tea Anon/Kitsune/Katrina, Simon (Bookend), Seer anon/Sarah, Umbra, Arrows anon, Bow Anon, (Other) Bow Anon, Hex, Sun, Moon*, Sigil, Insanity, Dusty, Lantern/Eternal Flame, Eternity, Darkis, Infinity, Entity, Ember, Unknown, Juko, Lilo, Bob, Hammer, Mallet, Fox anon, Teleporting anon, Nuffle, Pyxel, Thanatos, Tiger, Siam, Sabrina (Sun’s daughter), Taika, Sisu, Quest, Tip, Stranger, Radio, Shelly, Astrion, Gaia, Aella, Electricity anon, Conspiracy anon, Bap Anon, Eve.chr, Phoenix*, The Dragon of Abyss, The Dragoness of Sky, Lemonade/Lewis, Reverie/Guidance anon, Unnamed Autumn Season, Unnamed Winter Season, Neb, Cardlan, Minimi, Entity (Backrooms edition), Casper, Manna, Pamela, Eden*, Grif, Trudy, Pen, Paper, Sophronius, Acacius, Milo, Drunk anon (deceased), Scissors anon, Thief Anon, Void anon, Cupcake anon, Chaos Enjoyer Anon, Thyme, Angst anon, villain anon, “Lucy”, Simp anon, Comax, Pickle gifter anon, pickle stealer anon, fish anon, deus ex machinanon, mail anon, foundation anon, lost anon, dropkick anon, Bug anon, Paranoia Anon, Rocket launcher anon, Kyubey, Mimic, Rodger, Ludvic, sunshine anon, anger anon, Frazzle, Wade, Loyal anon, Loyal Servant anon, the cookie run cookies lol, Felicia (top hat edition), Tophat, Greenie, Red(?), The Polygon Bees (TM), Eepy anon, Ethan, Dark, Void/Ollie, DJ, Star, Mercury/Marcus, Elysia/Evangeline Elizabeth Ambrosia, Blaze (Planetquest edition)/Brandon, Jasper, Callista/Leilani, Ursula, Ari, Lumiel/Lark, uhhh…I think that’s it

did I do it do I freaking win

Someone please count how many characters there are (there should be one comma per character if that helps)

Edit: Nevermind, I did it for you.

This is a vague number, the actual number is higher than this, maybe about 270-300

[umbra-borealis]

I'm not saying self shipping or oc x canon is bad not at all, but I will call out the Thief community on its lack of gay stuff which I find funny and odd cause out of all things out there Thief feels incredibly fruity to me. Yall ever rescue your homies from a burning building? Yall show me that and expect me to be normal about that? You expect me to NOT assume Garrett is a lil fruity with Basso? Cmon.

Not even a little bit of the forbidden relationship trope with a watchman or something? Shit am I the only one who has lore to justify this man being trans? man you guys are lucky I can't draw humans for shit because of all the queer bullshit I would introduce to the tags.

[blackjackkent]

As the last of the Sharran animated armors falls into a clattering pile on the marble floor, the door at the far end of the room slides open.

Rakha squints at the enormous, hulking undead monstrosity that stands within; it squints back at her appraisingly for a moment. Then it steps aside and lets her pass into the room.

At once she feels another shiver of muted recognition. This is another laboratory - like the one she saw beneath the House of Healing, or in the tangled memories which the noblestalk conjured in her mind. This one is a little different than the others, though; it smells of blood and death, yes, but also something more sterile and clinical. Embalming fluid, she knows instinctively.

The hulking undead ogre stands in one corner. Several other smaller undead march up and down, scurrying about at the orders of the man at the center - a stocky robed figure. It is the man from the vision, the man who was controlling the skeletons outside - his scarified face is unmistakable. His face and chest, bare under the robe, are smeared with blood. Before him lies the half-dismembered form of another skeleton.

He looks up as Rakha comes to a halt in front of him, and smiles coolly.

"Finally, we can talk face to face," he says. He has a deep basso growl that was somewhat masked in the communication through the skeleton outside, and he sounds oddly pleasant, as if they are conversing on a random street corner and not in the depths of a Sharran temple, surrounded by zombies. "Not just any True Soul would have succeeded in following my path through this place," he goes on conversationally. "You should be pleased."

Rakha frowns. "Balthazar, I presume," she says slowly. As always on meeting a new face, the beast stirs in her head - but it is cautious here, wary of striking. And Rakha herself is wary too.

If he does know her, he seems to have lost interest in that fact almost immediately; the flash of recognition is nowhere to be found now. He will not provide her the answers she seeks - at least not without coercion. But this is the man Z'rell sent her to find, which means helping him will lead her to the Nightsong, the artifact that is the barrier to Ketheric's mortality. She does not want him dead - yet.

Once he has served his purpose, she will drag what he knows from him and then end him with the others, for the hand he had in the worm in her head.

"Z'rell sent me," she says, calm and flat and noncommittal. "She thinks you're in danger of failing your master."

For a moment, deep anger flashes through Balthazar's face. "General Thorm...?" Then his expression smooths over, replaced again with that casual smile. "Rubbish. Everything is at hand here. Z'rell merely envies the General's faith in me. I am in the midst of a grand strategy."

He grunts thoughtfully and looks Rakha up and down for a moment. "But you're here now, and I may be able to put those limbs to work." His eyes narrow. "You know what's at stake here, I take it?"

Rakha considers several possible answers before settling on the one most directly connected to her immediate goal. "Z'rell spoke of a relic," she says. "In your notes, you called it the Nightsong. They were... interesting."(*)

Again that flare of rage - more potent this time. "Interesting and private," Balthazar snarls. "Give me one reason why I shouldn't have my creations kill you right now, thief."

Behind her back, one of Rakha's fists clenches, readying a bolt of fire in her palm, but she stands her ground and looks back at him coolly. "I had Z'rell's permission,"(*) she says.

Balthazar hisses out an irritated breath. "Z'rell exceeds her authority," he growls. "But fine - I'll overlook your transgressions this time. There are much grander things at stake."

He rocks back on his heels and his eyes half-close; his voice softens with a sudden lyrical satisfaction. "The Nightsong is my finest creation. If I never exceed myself, I will still die happy." His eyes flick open again and his voice hardens back into a disdainful snap. "Not that I ever intend to do something as gauche as truly dying, of course."

He looks her over again, then her companions. "Now, given your prying nature," he says - suddenly all business, "I have work for you as a scout. The Nightsong lends the General his strength, his invulnerability. It must be recovered before his enemies attempt to exploit it."

Rakha allows herself a moment of satisfaction at the knowledge that she is, in fact, one of those enemies, and will take great pleasure in exploiting the Nightsong with every scrap of skill she possesses. But her face shows none of this.

"You need my help?" she says calmly.

"I do not need you or your help," Balthazar sneers, a trifle defensively. "But you are here in spite of that, so I may as well make use of you." He jerks his head to indicate the door behind her. "The Nightsong is close, but the way is barred and Shar's dead are... uncooperative. Clear the path for me - by blade, cunning, or whatever it takes. I will remain here until you have succeeded, or fallen."

Rakha smiles very faintly. The facts of the situation are obvious - Balthazar has lost control of this relic to the Sharran forces that still inhabit this place. He needs to recover it before Thorm finds out. This explains both his defensiveness and his urgency.

It also, though, means that his urgency is now also Rakha's - it does her no good if the Sharran forces get ahold of the Nightsong either. They need to find the relic so that they can use it against Ketheric; it can't be allowed to slip out of reach.

Shadowheart seems to be thinking along the same lines. "I'd trust this gasbag about as far as I can throw him," she murmurs, only audible through the tadpole connection that binds them. "Which isn't far. But perhaps better to play along for now."

Rakha nods almost imperceptibly, never turning her eyes from Balthazar. "I'll see what I can do," she says.

(A/N: Amusingly, Shadowheart immediately disapproves here even though SHE JUST TOLD ME TO GO ALONG WITH IT. Wyll also disapproves. Look, there's a plan guys, okay? Just stick with the plan. Apparently Wyll actually approves if you go straight to combat with Balthazar here, making this one of the few scenarios where he would prefer Rakha to go beast-mode and she is the one doing otherwise.)

Balthazar smiles coldly. "Do not fail me," he says, idly returning to work on the half-built corpse lying in front of him. "If you do... you'll join the ranks of my creations and be forced to try again."

-----

(*) Shortened these lines slightly to be more in keeping with Rakha's speech pattern.

[nightingaletrash]

Basso: no one told me so I'm gonna tell you, but the worst part about getting old is needing to piss fifteen times a night

Me: ...you tell all your thieves about your pissing habits or is Garrett just special?

[dimmeddown]

Holy shit I just found an unfinished Garrett/Basso thief amv from 2015

[commanderauri-art]

Thief Lock and Key ch 2

“Where’d you disappear off to?” Erin asked in a searching tone as he entered the clock tower at long last. Looking up, Garrett could see the girl had braced her hip against the banister of the top landing peering down at him with a half smile on her face. Her hood was pushed away from her head and pooled around the back of her neck revealing dark brown close cropped hair. The dark circles under her eyes stood out against her light skin. Like him, she didn’t go out during the day much if at all. The younger thief arched her eyebrows at him in a silent question as Garrett slid the door closed behind him.

“Saw an opportunity to make a quick bit of coin and took it,” Garrett replied simply. Erin merely rolled her eyes as he made his way up the stairs, his footfalls soft against the aging wood.

“Riiiiiight,” the girl replied, drawing out the syllable as she walked over toward the open window their carrier birds flew in and out from. “You saw an opportunity to fuck with the Watch during the day and took it.”

“You could say that,” Garrett allowed as he neared a display case and opened it up to gently slot a unique and beautiful looking diamond ring into one of the red velvet slots before securing the case once more. “Any word from Basso?”

“All right. Keep your secrets.” Erin stuck her tongue out at him before leaning against the open window sill, rifling through the various little boxes no bigger than her pinky. “Ah, yup. He’s got another client job. Ol’ Ritchie Chambers claiming some dusty tome of his got stolen by the Baron. Says to come to him for more details. Another here’s asking for an update on the Baron Dreyfus job you took up a few days ago and this one… Oh, this one I can handle.” Erin held the little box between her thumb and forefinger, rocking it back and forth.

“And which one is that?” Garrett went to snatch the box from her hand but Erin moved it quickly out of reach. He had to admit Erin was getting faster and more adept since she’d tagged along with him. After a moment’s pause, Erin chucked the box underhanded to him. Garrett plucked it out of the air and glanced at the tiny scrawl written on its surface.

“Lady Marimond is in the middle of moving her belongings to her third husband’s house past Riverside. Client’s asking a pretty penny if we, more namely I, steal a silver hand mirror encrusted with supposedly very precious diamonds along with a pair of earrings. They also added they’ll pay extra for any additional piece added to the collection,” Erin explained as she hopped off the window sill just as another small bird flew in. She landed in the spot Erin had just vacated and bounced away, a slip of paper wrapped around one leg.

“Jenivere, I was beginning to wonder where you’d been off to,” Garrett remarked in a soft voice. The bird hopped into his waiting palm and held relatively still as he unfurled the message she bore.

“Who’s it from?” Erin asked, attempting to peer around the taller thief’s shoulders.

“Basso. Says the Baron’s increased the number of guards around the manor. This has to be the third time in the last four months.”

“It’s probably due to some distant relative he’s got living with him now,” Erin said with a shrug as she helped herself to Garrett’s stash of extra supplies. “Don’t worry. I’ll pay you back. And yeah. Some cousin or niece or whoever moved in a few months back. Where’ve you been, Garrett? Living under a rock?”

“I don’t normally keep up to date on who’s living with Baron Northcrest. Most of it’s idle gossip anyway. You know better than believe most of what you hear.”

“You’re no fun.” Erin nabbed a bundle of arrows and stuffed them into her quiver. “Rumors going around say she’s some sort of weird eccentric her parents pawned off on the Baron. That she’s completely unmarriable with a hunch back and a bad eye. They say she’s also got a sizable dowry but no man back home would take her.”

“Why bring her here then?” Garrett asked after letting Jenivere go. The plucky bird flew up into the rafters to preen her feathers and settle in for a quick nap.

“Nobody knows. Ever since her carriage arrived, nobody’s been able to spot hide nor hair of her. Baron’s keeping her under lock and key since she moved in. The intrigue’s piqued a few mens’ interest but those who’ve gone in for one reason or another to speak with Baron Northcrest still haven’t spotted her. I’m half tempted to scale the walls myself.” She waved off the pointed look Garrett shot her way dismissively as she finished pilfering his supply stash. “I know that look. I won’t. I won’t. All right.” Erin patted her clothes down before pulling her hood back over her head. “I’ll be paying Lady Marimond a short visit. Have fun speaking to Ritchie without me.” Without so much as backwards glance back, Erin vaulted up the window sill and began to scale down the tower’s wall quick as a lizard.

“I don’t know about that girl sometimes though the Baron’s mysterious guest sounds interesting,” the Master Thief said to himself. “Should see what Basso has to say about her. Not much in this city gets by without him hearing about it.” After restocking his quiver from his steadily dwindling supply, Garrett left through the same window Erin had exited and made his way over to the rooftops to the Crippled Burrick.

—-

“Who you askin’ about? The Baron’s cousin?” Basso looked up from the ink stained ledger on his desk at the thief standing before him. Basso’s office was situated directly below the tavern. Conversation drifted dully down to the pair as Basso scribbled something onto the paper, swearing quietly as the quill spilled black ink over the page. “These damned quills. Ever since they switched to a new supplier, I swear, they haven't been the same since!” He continued his mutterrings as he tore the page free and began to copy over his work onto a fresh page. “I’m puttin’ in a complaint the next time I need to stock up. They’re shit!”

“The girl, Basso,” Garrett said, annoyance leaking into his voice. Raucous laughter could suddenly be heard through the ceiling just then, drawing the thief’s attention upwards briefly before settling back on the portly man. His clothes were in desperate need of a wash.

“Right, yeah. Yeah.” Basso finally pulled his attention away from his scribbling. “I don’t know all of what to tell ya, Garrett. Like Erin’s said, girl’s been a recluse since comin’ here. Don’t know if it’s due to the Baron or a quirk of her’s. Some of my boys think they caught sight of her leaving the carriage when it first pulled in here but apart from that, nada. Why the sudden interest anyway?”

“Call it idle curiosity. Anyway, you’ll both have your answer by this week’s end.” Basso arched a furry eyebrow at him askance. “Ritchie Chambers claims a book of his somehow made its way into the Baron’s possession. He’s asked that I return it to its rightful owner.”

“Oh, that old sodden pisspot.” Basso laughed and shook his head. “Better make sure it’s actually something of his this time, yeah? That man would lose his head if it wasn’t attached. When you stop by his shop, tell him still owes twenty gold pieces the last time he was here. This ain’t a damned charity.”

“I’ll let him know you said hi,” Garrett replied, offering up a rare smile before tugging his face mask into place and slipped out the back.

“What? That’s not what I said, Garrett! Garrett? Damn him to hell,” Basso called out but the thief had already vanished.

—-

“I don’t know why you and that mead head Basso never believe a word I say! I’m telling you the Baron stepped into my shop three weeks ago asking about some dusty tome or another, wandered about when I wasn’t looking and left without buying anything. I entered my private back room and the novel was gone! I know for a damned fact that arse head stole it. He stole it!” The short, stocky man with oversized glasses sliding further down his beak shaped nose flapped his hands animatedly as he paced back and forth in front of Garrett. The light affixed to the ceiling in Ritchie’s back office flickered twice before steadying itself.

One look at the desk crammed into one side revealed crumple papers, invoices and newspapers littering its surface and spilled onto the carpet which didn’t look much better. There were ink blots everywhere and it appeared to have not been cleaned in some time. A hutch hugged another wall and, through the slits, one could make out piles of books hidden inside.

“I take it reporting the stolen book to the Watch didn’t conjure up any favors?” the thief asked in a dry tone as his gaze tracked his new client. Given how short the man was, Garrett could clearly see a bald spot that had been poorly combed over in an attempt to hide it on the back of Ritchie’s head.

“No, they didn’t. They just laughed me out of the building,” Ritchie Chambers replied indignantly as he halted his pacing for a moment to readjust his suspenders. “‘What does the Baron have need of a book on flowers, anyway?’” he continued in a mocking voice, supposedly imitating one guard he’d spoken to. “Flowers have many medicinal properties and the Baron was specifically asking about a certain strain of poppies. I admitted I did have a book like the one he was searching for but, I will repeat, it was not on sale! That means jack all to Baron Northcrest.” Chambers let out a huff and placed both hands on his hips, tapping his shoe in a rhythmnless beat.

“Do you at least have a book similar to it so I know what I’m looking for? I’ve heard the Baron’s library is vast and going in blind won’t do me any good. The less time I spend there, the sooner you get your book back.”

Chambers darted towards the hutch and yanked open its doors, the hinges squeaking loudly in protest. He rummaged furiously around until he located a tome that looked similar to the one that had been stolen. He then shoved it into Garrett’s hands and stepped back, crossing his arms over his chest.

The thief glanced at the man before peering down at the novel. He ran a light thumb over its surface, tracing a part of its title in the process. It had clearly aged some, one corner was moth eaten and the pages were slowly turning yellow. “‘Dr. Russeou’s Guide to Everything Medicinal?” Garrett read the title out loud, giving Chambers another look. The stocky man just shrugged.

“It’ll look just like that minus the words,” he explained. “A large golden poppy is emblazoned on the front and an eye on the back. It’s about this thick, maybe a few pages less, and the fabric is a blood red color.”

“And you’re positive that’s the one Baron Northcrest stole,” Garrett said, sounding rather skeptical as he handed the book back. Ritchie took it and cradled it to his chest, frowning at the thief.

“Yes, I’m sure. I know there was a mix up in the past but that tome is mine. I’ve reached out to other blackhands but most either passed me by despite the price or laughed in my face then tried to rob me blind. Master Thief, if you’re able to retrieve my stolen property, I’ll double my asking price.”

“I have been meaning to upgrade my bow. Add an additional fifty gold coins and you’ll have yourself a deal.”

“Done,” Ritchie replied quickly. “When do you think you’ll have it back by?”

“Week’s end. I’ll need to search the manor. Extra guards will be patrolling the grounds. They’ll be covering my usual entry points.”

“All right then. I’ll await your return, Thief. Hells, if you can take back any other books from that bastard, please do. He deserves his comeuppance.”

“Politics doesn’t really concern me as long as I get paid,” Garrett said over his shoulder as he left the bookkeeper behind. He only had a few days to monitor the patrols and search for openings in the guard. This was going to prove an interesting challenge.

—-

The week had proven to be rather uneventful. After recovering from her first day of sword play, Elizabeth fell flat on her bed. The day before, she’d slipped out of the manor, keeping mostly to Stonemarket, and had stepped into the Burrick for food and ale. The place had proven to be full of gossip, most of them involving the affluents in their gilded houses and the remaining bits centering around her. She’d done her best to keep from laughing at their ridiculous theories and imaginings as she ate her meal and returned to the manor shortly after with her shopping clutched in hand. There’d still been no word on the Master Thief and she’d been tempted to ask the tavern keeper if he’d heard anything but she didn’t want to stir up any suspicion.

How do you search for someone who doesn’t want to be seen? Even asking around the manor’s guards hadn’t revealed anything of note. The man was a ghost, aided by the spirits. Bestowed upon were skills one was given if they made a deal with the devil. It was hard to keep from rolling her eyes at their tall tales. From the brief interaction she’d had with him, he was merely a man. A skilled one at that but just a man. Rolling over onto her back made her wince. Her arms felt leaden. The trek upstairs had been difficult and she knew she had to wash off but that meant leaving behind her comfy mattress.

Lottie was away downstairs looking after dinner business. Apparently the Baron was entertaining yet another batch of guests and she was to remain out of sight. Fine with her, Elizabeth detested formal dinners. Having to wear a corsets for an ungodly amount of time and taking only tiny bites as was seemly for a woman while the men tore into their meat like savages. Then came the polite conversation. How was she doing? What hobbies did she partake in? How good was her sewing? Did she have a husband yet? Why not? Oh, child, one does not marry for love. Love matches are a rare thing! One marries for wealth and riches and influence. Elizabeth let out a snort and heaved herself up and off the bed, hobbling into the bathroom.

Turning the water to its hottest settings, she poured a bit of scented oil and salts to ease her sore muscles and waited until the tub finally filled to the brim. She hissed as she entered the steaming water and sank in until it rose up to her chin with her hair floating around her like kelp. It didn’t take long for her to hear the Baron’s guests arrive and their voices echoed up the landing though she couldn’t make out their words. It didn’t interest her much as she let the warm water work its magic.

She must’ve dozed off for sometime as rolling thunder jerked her awake. Elizabeth floundered briefly and winced at the crick in her neck. How long had she been asleep? The candle on the sink counter had only melted down to just over the halfway point and the water was still somewhat warm. Her shoulders and the top of her head were not. After dunking her hair and washing off quickly, Elizabeth pulled the plug and wrapped herself up in a soft towel then, once dry enough, changed into a robe before making for her room and into her night clothes. The oils left her skin soft and a floral scent clung to her damp hair as she loosely braided it and threw it over one shoulder. A flash of lightning illuminated her bedroom momentarily prompting her to pull the curtains close and then slip into her nightgown.

After hanging her towel and bathrobe to dry, Elizabeth peeked out her door. Inane conversation could be heard faintly. Clearly, their guests were still here. Sleep was still far from her reach and she hardly felt like drawing. What she really wanted to do was get down to the library but how…

The servants’ stairway! Grinning a little at the idea, Elizabeth left her room quietly as she could then padded down to the far end of the hall when she pulled open a small two foot wide door. The staircase inside was just as narrow but it would take her directly down towards the library level and, thus, into sanctuary. After nearly slipping twice and smacking her shin at least once, she finally made it to her destination. Lights were still on here but were spaced out far enough to allow deep shadows into their gaps. The hearth was cold but it seemed someone had placed in a few new logs since she was last here. After getting some kindling to catch flame and tossing it onto the wood, she very quickly had a hot, roaring fire.

Settling into her favorite old recliner with a tall back and plush cushions, Elizabeth picked up the book she’d last been reading and let out a content sigh. Nobody would bother her here. The guards were aware that if she were away from her room, they’d find her on this level or out in the gardens, weather permitting. While she mourned the loss of a hot cup of tea, Elizabeth did not fancy leaving her spot unless absolutely necessary. Plus, she’d just gotten to a very steamy scene in her novel. Nothing could pull her attention away unless it was an act from the gods. Or a thief.

She couldn’t quite tell what it was exactly that drew her attention from the pages but it was enough to make her glance up in time to see a shadow move to the side no more than fifty feet away from her. Her movements stilled immediately and she didn’t dare breathe as she waited. There it was again! Now she was certain someone was down here with her. Whether it was her shadow from the week prior or someone else entirely, that remained to be seen. The fire had since died down to nothing more than burning embers, allowing the darkness to cloak her in its embrace. Elizabeth was quietly grateful for slipping into a dark gown and foregoing slippers despite her feet getting cold on the way down.

She waited for the shadow to dart out of sight before moving from her seat. While she didn’t have her dagger, there was a fire poker at her disposal which she very slowly eased out away from its fellows. Elizabeth stepped back around her chair, makeshift weapon in hand and waited for movement to show her where this shadow was. She had her answer a few short seconds later. A bolt of lightning flashed, blanketing the room in white light through the long, floor to ceiling windows. In that split second, Elizabeth could make a dark cloaked figure perusing the shelves. It had to be her shadow, she was sure of it! But what in the heavens was he doing here?

A job. He has to be carrying out some sort of job. Why else would he be here? Certainly not looking for you, some plain looking woman from Riverside.

Steeling herself, Elizabeth figured this would be the best chance she’d get at maybe an answer or two. And perhaps seeing the fire poker in her hands would show him she was most certainly a threat. Or so she hoped. Elizabeth really only had a day’s worth of proper training. This man here had a lifetime of experience working against her but perhaps it’d still give him enough of a pause. Elizabeth walked on the balls of her feet, stepping softly, carefully across the old wooden floors. She’d walked amongst these shelves ever since she first arrived. She knew where most of the creaky planks were. To be safe, though, she kept to the rugs as much as possible as she closed in on her quarry. Whenever thunder cracked the sky, Elizabeth used it to her advantage to get even closer until she was maybe two meters away from him.

The thief was standing before the dying fire, the dark red-orange glow catching on his armor. He was looking for something, muttering to himself in the low rumble of a voice.

“Dark red cover. Poppy on the front and an eye on… the… back. Well, what do we have here?” That matter of fact statement almost made Elizabeth lose her nerve and drop the poker until she realized her shadow wasn’t speaking to her. He was talking to a… book? Her head cocked to the side as he lifted the novel up from the mantelpiece and examined it carefully, his long fingers stretching across the cover and traced the image carved into the front. “It seems I owe Mr. Chambers an apology. Northcrest really did have it here. Go figure.”

Something in his tone very obviously indicated he was about to slip out the same way he came in. She was going to lose her chance! Before she could change her mind, Elizabeth took in a breath to prepare herself and leaned forward to poke the Master Thief in the small of his back. Even through the cloak and leather armor, he could definitely feel it. She watched him carefully lift up his arms, the pilfered tome still held in hand.

“You know, it’s not just anyone who can sneak up on me,” he remarked, glancing at her over one shoulder. The one eye she could see was studying her rather closely. It was almost like he could see right through her. Resisting the urge to wrap her arms over her chest to word off his piercing gaze, Elizabeth fixed him with a look.

“Yes, well, that’s what I get spending most of my life invisible. Now. Put the book down. You and I are going to have a little chat.” She tried to sound intimidating but she could hear much past the sound of blood rushing through her ears.

“While you hold a poker to my back?” The thief huffed out a laugh. “I don’t think so.” Elizabeth opened her mouth to shoot off a retort when he dropped the book and suddenly wrapped his cloak around the sharp end of her makeshift weapon. She then felt it yanked hard out from her hands. The metal cut into her palms and knicked her left hand in the process. Before she knew it, the poker had been turned around on her. Their roles now reversed, Elizabeth very, very reluctantly held her arms up and gave the Master Thief a withering glare that would have sent a weaker man running. “You really need to work on your stance. Footwork can certainly save you in a fight,” he quipped. Elizabeth’s eyes narrowed a fraction. It was like he was enjoying this and it infuriated her all the more.

“Noted,” she replied through gritted teeth. Damn him! There goes that failed plan.

“So, is this the famed cousin of the Baron Northcrest that I’ve heard so much about? Hm.” His head tilted a little to the side as he peered a little closer. “And the plain Jane from Glimmer Lane. Who would’ve guessed you two were the same.”

“You don’t get points for your shitty rhyme.”

“Your words wound me.” The phrase was said with a bit of dramatic flare but the fire poker never wavered from her body.

“Give me the poker and I’ll show you how much that can really wound you,” Elizabeth bit out. The smile she gave him bore more of a threat than kindness.

“It's a wonder you haven’t yet found a husband, isn’t it? With that tongue of yours, men should be falling over themselves after you.”

“Oh, for fuck’s sake. Not you too. Just because you got me away from those halfwits last week does not mean you get a say in my damned love life!” Elizabeth nearly shouted as she took a step forward in anger, her arms down at her sides. Her fists were clenched tightly and shaking just a little. “I’m not some sow to be put on display for everyone and their damned mother. Let alone some blasted thief!”

The thief in question appeared to wince in mock sympathy. “Touched a nerve there, didn’t I? Sorry, sweetheart.”

“Fuck your apology, Thief.” Elizabeth let out an explosive sigh and rested her hands on her hips before giving him yet another signature glare. “Keep aiming that damned thing at me and I will scream,” she threatened.

“Doubtful. You would’ve done so the moment you first saw me.” His eyes crinkled ever so slightly above that half mask. He was very much enjoying getting a rise out of her.

“You wanna bet?” She bent at the waist just so and peered up at him with a mirthless smile.

“I only ever bet on things I know I'll win.” That tone he used was deliciously dangerous and sent a thrill down Elizabeth’s spine. Her lips parted as she angled her face slightly away from him when the lights shut off, covering the entire manor in darkness. The sound of the generator powering down reverberated throughout the lower levels before being overwhelmed by a woman’s scream of fright followed by male cursing.

“What did you do?” Elizabeth hissed, whipping around to face the thief. Frankly, she was surprised he still remained standing there.

“That wasn’t me. The storm must’ve blown out the breaker.”

“I don-“

“Miss? Miss Elizabeth! Are you down here?” A guard’s heavy footsteps could be heard as he shouted near one of the landings across the library. Elizabeth went to respond when she was pulled rather harshly backward by her shadow and closer to her reading chair. She felt her dress being bunched tightly in his hand while the other angled the poker enough that she could feel the end prod her side.

“Get rid of him,” the rogue growled out in a warning tone. At the moment, it hit home with Elizabeth on just how threatening this man could truly be. For the first time, she felt fearful of him. If truly pressed, he would kill her.

“I-I’m fine, Charlie!” Elizabeth finally called out after clearing her throat twice. “Just a little startled is all. W-what happened?”

“Storm, miss. Musta blown out a breaker or somethin’. We’ve got someone workin’ on it now!”

She could hardly hear the rogue breathing behind her. Had he not been holding onto her dress, she would’ve suspected he’d disappeared.

“Perfect, thank you!”

“Will you be all right down here in the meantime, miss?”

Oh, for fuck’s- “Yes, Charlie. I will be! I’ve enough firewood to last me through the night. I’ll wait until the lights come back on to head upstairs.”

“All right, miss. They should be back on momentarily.”

Neither relaxed until the guard’s footfalls could no longer be heard. Once he was well out of earshot, Elizabeth ripped her gown from the thief’s clutches and stumbled backward a few steps until there was ample space between them. She was grateful the lights had gone out and the fire was nearly gone as she was certain her face was bright red from embarrassment and anger.

“All right. He’s gone. You’ve got your chance to leave. Now go,” Elizabeth bit out, wrapping her arms around her middle. A soft dull thunk could be heard landing away from them. The thief had tossed away the poker, keeping it well out of reach from the both of them.

“You really didn't scream,” her shadow remarked after a heartbeat. His eyes glittered eerily in the dark as he watched before stooping to pick up the discarded book he’d been sent to reclaim, such as it was.

“You’re still hung on that?” Elizabeth shook her head in disbelief. “Clock’s ticking, Master Thief. They’ll have the lights back on shortly and the grounds will be covered in guards.”

“In a minute. Would you have, if the guard hadn’t shown up?”

“You first. You failed to answer my question. Why should I answer yours now?”

There was that soft laugh again. “Word to the wise: any man you marry will snuff out that spark you’ve got. When you do pick one, make sure he can handle it. If not, he’s not worth keeping around.”

“Right. Like I’m going to be taking love advice from a damned blackhand.”

“Hey, I only call it like I see it. You’re a rare breed. Most women I’ve encountered run, mainly screaming, away when they first see me. You? You went after me with a fire poker and attempted to detain me.”

“Mmhmm. And we both saw how that panned out, now, didn’t we? Fat lot of good it did me.” Sarcasm was just dripping from her mouth. “Let’s not replay those events. Now, back to my question, Master Thief.” He didn’t seem overly inclined to dispose of her especially since she wasn’t impeding his means of escape. That did let her feel a bit more brave.

“You had asked why I intervened,” the thief stated as he brushed some errant dust that had collected on the book’s surface before tucking it away in a bag stowed on his person.

“Yes. What was I to you?” Elizabeth paced a little, eyes squinting at the dark man shaped blob in front of her. “There were three heavily armed men. You could’ve just left me there. Hells, most others would have.” She threw her arms wide. “So, why didn’t you?”

The thief seemed to make to leave without answering her but stopped. He drew in a breath then let it out slowly. “There’s a lot of bad in this world,” he began, picking his words deliberately. “There are days when I feel like I’ve seen it but then there’s something else out there that surprises me. I���m not exactly what you’d call a good man.” He laughed briefly but there was no substance to it. “But those men were going to do something inexcusable. I can overlook plenty but-“

“But that you couldn’t,” Elizabeth interrupted, drawing the rogue’s dark gaze.

“To put it simply, yes. It was reckless and certainly dangerous but those types of men need to be put in their places. Had you not been there, there would’ve been tumbling into watery graves.”

“I’ve… already let the captain in charge here know,” Elizabeth said hesitantly. “I made up some story about hearing a rumor and the captain went off to investigate. The man in charge of those cronies was likely suspended but I don’t know about the other two.”

“It’s better than nothing. Too many of those folks get away unpunished.”

“I’m well aware of that, Thief.”

“I also stopped because of you,” he added.

“Me?” Elizabeth guffawed and scoffed. “What about me? I was scared shitless.”

“You almost couldn’t tell considering the holes you were glaring into the captain’s face.”

“I wanted to claw his bloody eyes out but I think he would’ve sooner stabbed before letting that happen.”

“That’s a… safe assumption.”

“Don’t worry. I haven’t been down that way since you’ve warned me. I really don’t fancy a repeat meeting.” Elizabeth shuddered a little. “Something tells me those boys have not forgotten my face. Or maybe they have. Most do, anyway.” She’d glanced away toward the window just as another flash lit up the room. The mechanic was certainly taking his time repairing the blasted breaker box. A small gust of air brushing her arms was all that indicated the rogue’s presence. Elizabeth nearly jumped out of her skin when she felt his thumb under her chin and tilt her head back to face him.

“You give yourself too little credit, Elizabeth,” her shadow murmured gently. “I, for one, never forget a face.”

Faster than she could react, the thief pulled back and, with a wink, disappeared into the shadows blanketing that half of the library. Moments later, the lights flickered back on and the low hum of electricity could now be heard. Elizabeth was still staring off the way he’d left before she clapped both palms to her ever heating cheeks.

Oh my gods! What in the name of the seven hells-? He just- And I- Gods! For the next several minutes, Elizabeth continued to scream quietly inside her head. On her trek upward and into bed, after ensuring the fire was out completely, did the mental screaming continue. Come dawn, she was surely bringing Lottie in on what had just happened. Her handmaid was most definitely going to give her the scolding of a lifetime but certainly going to enjoy every bit of drama regardless.

Burrowing deep below the warm covers, someone had stuck a covered pan with hot coals to scare away the cold, Elizabeth replayed their interaction in her mind’s eye. The thief could’ve just been charming her in order to make sure his getaway was swift and clean but what if… No. No. She was not going to entertain that thought. Definitely, definitely not. He was not flirting with her. He was not! But what if he was? The implication caused her to blush ever more and Elizabeth yanked her comforter well over her head, drowning out the sound of rain pattering against her window.

It wasn’t until the following morning that Elizabeth realized she never answered his question. Something told her she and her shadow were going to be meeting again very soon.

[edireviews]

Segue minha breve análise de Thief para XBox One!

[adamwatchesmovies]

Slender Man (2018)

I’ll believe in magic wands and dragons before believing anyone would find 2018’s Slender Man scary. Based on the creepypasta internet meme (which generates as much confidence as the inspiration for The Emoji Movie), the film’s characters are so dumb you’ll be cheering for the supernatural entity to take them down. You'll grow cobwebs waiting. Even at 98 minutes, this thinly plotted film feels padded.

Best friends Wren (Joey King), Hallie (Julia Goldani Telles), Chloe (Jaz Sinclair) and Katie (Annalise Basso) playfully research “Slender Man”, a forest-dwelling supernatural creature whose appearance resembles a faceless man in a black suit, and is reported to steal children. After a forum-posted video begins to cause nightmares and other discomforts, they suspect there's some truth behind the internet legend.

I’m just going to go ahead and say it. I know Slender Man is a popular character among those too young to read horror novels but the character is not frightening. Firstly, it’s badly designed. It’s a faceless, thin man in a suit with a red tie… and tentacles coming out of its back! While the idea of it invading your psyche is frightening, we’ve seen that before. It was lame two years before when we were subjected to The Bye Bye Man. In 2018, 9 years after the creature’s popularization through the internet? Slender Man isn’t spooky at all. Secondly, even if it was the stuff of nightmares, the special effects that bring it to life are so awful there’s no way you can take them seriously. Third- and most importantly - the people we see trying to escape from it are so impossibly stupid you can’t relate to them, which means you can’t picture yourself as one of Slender Man’s victims. It's a death knell for any horror film.

Before you protest with a “But aren’t all characters in movies forced to make certain dumb moves for the plot to kick off?” understand that I’m not calling them dimmer than a dead lightbulb under two meters of garbage because they choose to “invoke” Slender Man through his internet video (a video that has an uncanny resemblance to the one we saw in The Ring). What I mean is that the four young women who find themselves haunted by visions of the apparition can’t decide whether they’re afraid or not. After Katie vanishes, her friends become convinced Slender Man is responsible - convinced enough to sneak out of their houses in the middle of the night and bring their most precious belongings as tributes to the child-thief. Chloe tears the only photo she has of herself with her deceased father. It's proof she’s taking this seriously but that doesn’t stop her from disregarding all of the instructions once the ritual begins. Then, when Slender Man begins live-streaming itself breaking into her home, she doesn’t even attempt to run away. She doesn’t even try to lock the door. She doesn’t even try to close the door! All she does is stare at the POV shot coming closer and closer to her, as if thinking “I can’t wait to see where this is going!”

I’m going to zone in on that Ring-style video as a clear-cut sign that this movie was made for the name recognition alone. It might've even been a "find-replace" script. We see “spooky” black-and-white imagery of abstract things, including an all-seeing eye. It doesn’t offer any clues on how to proceed, what Slender Man wants, how to beat it, or anything. The images we see certainly have nothing to do with the horrendously rendered nightmares of Wren giving birth to Slender Man’s baby. It’s just stuff thrown at the screen to kill time.

Directed by Sylvain White, written by David Birke and all thanks to Screen Gems, Slender Man is so inept you’d think it would at the very least be ironically entertaining. It isn’t. For the briefest moment, we get a glimpse of what makes Wren, Hallie, Chloe and Katie tick; a few minutes where they speak and act like real teenage girls. Afterward, you don’t learn a thing about them. They become dull slabs of meat for the monster to make disappear. It’s impossible to care about what’s happening, which means Slender Man will have you bored out of your skull. (January 7, 2022)