The Nightingale Conspiracy [IC]
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August 13th, 2013, 01:39 AM
Lean Mean Roleplaying Machine
Join Date: Feb 2012
Natalia Alden – Maverick Manor
As the group of five were waiting for Raymond to enter the audience chamber,
sat with one leg crossed over the other, leaned back rather comfortably-looking in her chair with her arms on the armrests and her long hair draped over the back of the chair she was sitting in. She slowly glanced left and right to look over the others that had arrived almost alongside her and were waiting as well before looking ahead again, silently considering the different personalities of the ones around her.
As Raymond entered and started to introduce the group to each other and he reached
, she smirked softly, waving her hand faintly in the air. “I’d –prefer- Thief actually. Take as much pride and joy in your work as I do, it’d almost be a crime not to be called as such.” She continued to listen to the others being introduced, raising her brows slightly at the introduction of the Charmeleon named Dominic.
He can’t be much older than twenty… hmm. Interesting.
She turned back to Raymond as he continued to explain, though the talk of freedom and liberation quite frankly started to bore her. Sure, people should live the lives they wanted to, but it was just tedious to be getting a speech like this. She was fairly sure that if she hadn’t owed him anything, and if she didn’t think she’d be able to make a profit off of this, she wouldn’t even be there.
Speaking of, as soon as Raymond let the projector screen fall and the light shone onto it,
’s ears perked and her head tilted a little to the side at the announcement of them going to rob the national bank, of all places. Her lips twisted into a smooth grin as she folded one arm across her chest, the other resting on top of it as she scratched her chin thoughtfully.
I’ve always wanted to get into that place. Though I’m not sure if Raymond would even want the money inside… seems to me like he’s more focused on making a statement than getting rich… or, at least, richer than he already is. Ah well. I’ll just have to make up a few plans of my own.
As Raymond invited everyone to come with their own ideas,
broke in as the first, her smooth, calm voice sounding almost playfully soothing. “I, personally, am all for this target to be our first. I’d suggest we do it stealthily, rather than bursting in, guns blazing. Both considering how unrefined of an approach that is, and… well, the size of our little ‘revolutionary’ group.” She paused for a moment, glancing at the others before speaking again.
“I think we should hear plan A before we start trying to think up plan B and plan C. Who knows, maybe you’re actually onto something, Ray’.” She gave the Accelgor a sly smile and a wink before resting her elbow on the chair’s armrest, and then placed her chin in her palm, waiting for the others to chip in with their thoughts.
When does a man die?
When he is hit by a bullet? No.
When he suffers a disease? No.
When he eats a soup made out of a poisonous mushroom? No!
A man dies when he is forgotten.
Last edited by Sir Bastian; August 13th, 2013 at
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