Post by connorspaulding on Dec 26, 2010 12:18:49 GMT -5
Connor eyed the house warily.
It was a dark night, moonless, and a thick layer of clouds had blown in from the north to obscure the dim light of the stars. That same wind had kept up fairly steady, filling the night air with a soft, constant whoosh that would cloak any other sounds, like those of a man creeping quietly along over the well-tended grass. All in all, it was a perfect night, and Connor knew that--with this being the night after Christmas--he'd be sure to find all sorts of goodies inside that mansion.
Rich people always got the best stuff for Christmas, after all.
Smiling to himself, the professional thief continued on, letting the anticipation of the job to come keep his senses sharp. Moments later, Connor found himself pressed right up against the western wall of the main house, and though he still felt the keen excitement he always did right before a job, he also felt a strange bit of unease as well. This had just been too easy... What kind of people lived here, anyway? He hadn't even come across any basic security measures: no alarms, no guards, no attack dogs, nothing. Rich people always had some sort of safeguard between their wealth and the outside world...
Connor shook his head. You just couldn't figure some people...
Looking around, he spotted a low window and crept toward it, giving it a thorough once over. Again, nothing. What the hell kind of mansion was this, anyway? Furrowing his brow, Connor reached out and flicked the window glass, ready to bolt at any sound of alarm. Nothing. Okay. Biting his lip a bit, the man slowly began to raise the window up, again ready to take off if it came to that. Nothing. Of course. Chuckling, Connor slid the window the rest of the way up and, grabbing hold of the ledge, he pulled himself up and in.
Once his feet hit the floor, Connor dropped into a crouch. He'd known places like this to have pressure sensitive panels on the floors beneath windows, and if he had to dive back out and run for his life, he wanted to be ready. But, just like everywhere else on this strange estate, there was no sign of alarm. Man... This was just too weird. What'd these people rely on to protect their stuff, anyway?
And, as he took a preliminary look around, Connor had to admit that they had some very, very nice stuff...
Alright, time to get down to business. Connor knew that he'd find some great items here, particularly right after Christmas, but at the same time he knew he had to mind his own personal standards: never take anything that looked like it had significant personal value to anyone, never take anything that appeared to be some sort of family heirloom, never take anything that was obviously for children. Connor wasn't in this to hurt anyone, not really... Just to snag a few items of value that people this rich really didn't need. And, as usual, he wasn't armed: no gun, no blade, nothing.
If he was caught in the act, he'd turn and run. If he couldn't run and the police managed to nab him...? Well, he'd do his time, or at least as much of his time as he had to before he busted out. It'd happened before, he was sure it would happen again.
Standing up, Connor began, to walk lightly around the house, perusing various things and mentally calculating their value. All the while, the thief made sure he knew at all times where his exit was. He'd go back out through the same window, and trace his own steps back off of the estate. After all, he knew that the path he'd taken to get here was alarm-free, though he doubted that he'd managed to find the one safe path to the house...
Anyway, back to work...
((Alright, this is open to pretty much anyone who would be at the James' place the day after Christmas))
It was a dark night, moonless, and a thick layer of clouds had blown in from the north to obscure the dim light of the stars. That same wind had kept up fairly steady, filling the night air with a soft, constant whoosh that would cloak any other sounds, like those of a man creeping quietly along over the well-tended grass. All in all, it was a perfect night, and Connor knew that--with this being the night after Christmas--he'd be sure to find all sorts of goodies inside that mansion.
Rich people always got the best stuff for Christmas, after all.
Smiling to himself, the professional thief continued on, letting the anticipation of the job to come keep his senses sharp. Moments later, Connor found himself pressed right up against the western wall of the main house, and though he still felt the keen excitement he always did right before a job, he also felt a strange bit of unease as well. This had just been too easy... What kind of people lived here, anyway? He hadn't even come across any basic security measures: no alarms, no guards, no attack dogs, nothing. Rich people always had some sort of safeguard between their wealth and the outside world...
Connor shook his head. You just couldn't figure some people...
Looking around, he spotted a low window and crept toward it, giving it a thorough once over. Again, nothing. What the hell kind of mansion was this, anyway? Furrowing his brow, Connor reached out and flicked the window glass, ready to bolt at any sound of alarm. Nothing. Okay. Biting his lip a bit, the man slowly began to raise the window up, again ready to take off if it came to that. Nothing. Of course. Chuckling, Connor slid the window the rest of the way up and, grabbing hold of the ledge, he pulled himself up and in.
Once his feet hit the floor, Connor dropped into a crouch. He'd known places like this to have pressure sensitive panels on the floors beneath windows, and if he had to dive back out and run for his life, he wanted to be ready. But, just like everywhere else on this strange estate, there was no sign of alarm. Man... This was just too weird. What'd these people rely on to protect their stuff, anyway?
And, as he took a preliminary look around, Connor had to admit that they had some very, very nice stuff...
Alright, time to get down to business. Connor knew that he'd find some great items here, particularly right after Christmas, but at the same time he knew he had to mind his own personal standards: never take anything that looked like it had significant personal value to anyone, never take anything that appeared to be some sort of family heirloom, never take anything that was obviously for children. Connor wasn't in this to hurt anyone, not really... Just to snag a few items of value that people this rich really didn't need. And, as usual, he wasn't armed: no gun, no blade, nothing.
If he was caught in the act, he'd turn and run. If he couldn't run and the police managed to nab him...? Well, he'd do his time, or at least as much of his time as he had to before he busted out. It'd happened before, he was sure it would happen again.
Standing up, Connor began, to walk lightly around the house, perusing various things and mentally calculating their value. All the while, the thief made sure he knew at all times where his exit was. He'd go back out through the same window, and trace his own steps back off of the estate. After all, he knew that the path he'd taken to get here was alarm-free, though he doubted that he'd managed to find the one safe path to the house...
Anyway, back to work...
((Alright, this is open to pretty much anyone who would be at the James' place the day after Christmas))