hatesdeerstalkers | IC INBOX FOR DAYBREAK

...

[Therion wrinkles his nose, but carefully lifts one sleeve of the shirt for a better look at the thing. After what he saw during the Grimm attack, he's curious. Does the damage seem like it should've been fatal to whoever was wearing this shirt?]

[Not really - a lot of the rips and cuts are focused on the arms, though there are some stains on the torso from bleeding and a few minor tears. Painful, but survivable.

...Of course, there are other ways to die that won't leave rips and marks on a shirt, but, regardless, this doesn't look like it was looted from a corpse.]

[He breathes out and mutters to himself--] Getting paranoid, dealing with all this magic crap.

[Anyway, he leaves the shirt alone after that and moves to the desk. Computers always have some value, and most people these days have online access to their bank accounts, but Therion knows he's no hacker. He'll grab it if he can't find anything else, but there are still avenues to explore. He starts with the desk drawers, studying them all briskly and methodically: first, another check for trap wires or alarms, a look inside (after an unlocking, if necessary), and finally a search for hidden compartments. After all, if he had valuables to protect, he'd want to keep them close where he spent the most time. Just in case.]

[No wires or alarms, but Thereon is right - in a hidden compartment in a seemingly empty desk drawer reveals a small panel, where about 2000 Euros lay in a small bundle of 100's.

The rest of the drawers are simple, and only have minor things (paper, pens, computer acessories, little odds and ends, and a bag of molasses candy, strangely enough. There doesn't seem to be anything else of interest.]

[Well, hello. Pleased, even if it's not the ridiculous stash of antiques and jewels he was imagining, Therion helps himself to some--but not all--of the money, and to the candy, too. He may not be a starving waif anymore, but old habits die hoard. I mean, hard.

After resetting everything just as he found it, he shoots a quick glance towards the door to ensure he's clear to keep snooping. No mother-lode yet, after all.]

[There doesn't seem to be any noise coming from behind the door, so he's free to keep snooping.

...for now.]

[Nice. The dressers get the same treatment, too, then. Congratulations, Moriarty, now at least one of your students knows what your underwear looks like.]

[Well, you now know Moriarty is a briefs kind of guy instead of boxers. Other than that, it's mostly boring in most of the dressers - the normal kind of stuff, though he'll find another 2k in US dollars this time tightly rolled up in a specific pair of pants.

However, two drawers have false bottoms. One leads to a shitton of knives: everything from larger, sharp cutting knives to throwing knives are here. Another has an assortment of Guns - Mostly pistols, but there's also a rifle with a sniping aim attachment on it. All of them are properly maintained and loaded, and...don't have the safety on...?]

[Aha. What have we here? A secret armory is much closer to what Therion was expecting from the faculty here at Daybreak. He looks over the guns without touching them; firearms aren't his thing, and, honestly, so many of them just lying around, ready for use, makes him nervous. On the other hand, the knife collection warms his heart like a call from an old friend.

He was cautious enough portioning himself a share of the professor's cash, but a missing knife's far more likely to be noticed, no matter what he does to hide the theft. Still, after some deliberation, he takes a couple throwing knives and one more blade on the smaller side. He likes them easily concealed, useful for many a purpose.

He holds it briefly up to the light, admiring the edge, and then tucks it away. He has money, he has weapons--it's amazing how a little retail therapy can make Therion feel so much more like himself. He stands and makes sure everything's secure before he turns.]

[And as he turns -

There's suddenly someone in front of the door. The man who lives in this apartment, Therion's math professor - James Moriarty, quietly grinning at how content the young man in front of him seemed.

How did he get there without a single sound? Well, it was obvious, really. Not needing to breathe removed a lot of the noise associated with humans, though he made sure to start again once Therion had turned around.]

Enjoyed yourself, hm?

[He says it so lightly that it would be easy to imagine him as a bemused grandfather having caught a grandchild going through his old things, instead of a victim catching the culprit mid-theft.]

Take a seat - it appears we'll have to have a chat.

[To his credit, Therion doesn't jump out of his skin so much as tense up, primed to bolt, charge, or go for the knives. He dismisses each thought just as instantly. Moriarty's an unknown, and in Daybreak's magic militia, Therion has to assume all such unknowns can wipe the floor with him. Escaping, even if he could, won't help; he's stuck here. He's well and truly caught. Again.

His alarm turns quickly to bitterness, but if the alert and wary way he watches Moriarty is any indication, he hasn't quite given up on himself.]

...I'll stand, if it's all the same to you.

[He'd rather be on his feet, between the man who caught him and his well-kept arsenal, thanks.]

I'm not used to others being able to sneak up on me like that. Am I losing my touch?

[Moriarty IS an incredible shot and aim, but most likely Therion could have taken him out, if he needed to. He hasn't exactly learned any offensive magic, after all.

Still, Moriarty laughs, and leans against his door.]

I'll Stand as well, then! Hm, but - don't worry about the sneaking up part. I have...experience in being quiet, is all.

[Let the young man take what he wants from that.]

So? How much did you take?

[Cool, cool, cool. Therion's between Moriarty and the weapons, Moriarty's between Therion and the most convenient avenue of escape. The professor must know what he's doing, amiable as he acts.]

Just pocket change.

[A combined thousand, maybe, from the two cash stashes he found. Oh, and the three knives. But he's sure Moriarty saw that.]

For someone who'd splurge that much out of pocket on one day's event, you keep a pretty minimalist home. Guess you weren't kidding about low living expenses.

[It's not his first time coming home to a thief, that much is certain.

Though if this was the past, Therion would be dead, instantly shot through the forehead by one of the guns on his person. But - this isn't the past, and he is a mere professor here, so he just chuckles at the comment.]

Pocket change and some knives, hm? Ah well - feel free to keep it. I can merely get more, after all.

[....What?]

Though - you're quite the adept hand at this sort of work, hmm?

[A different, less comfortable sort of alarm blooms in Therion's gut. If Moriarty were just taunting him or fishing for information, that'd be one thing. But compliments, of any kind? Generosity?

Very subtly, Therion shifts his weight backwards.]

If you say so.

[Bringing up the professor's own dot dot dot... 'experience' in creeping up on people is too obvious a hook, and just confirms what they both know: like recognizes like. If Moriarty thinks he's good at 'this sort of work,' he must have some frame of reference with which to judge.]

You seem awfully understanding given the circumstances, Professor.

[Ah. The clever sort, too - good, good. He's already noting details that he's happy to see in a young thief, and he's noting the faint traces of alarm.

Off balance...or perhaps a past bad experience with people offering generosity at first? Too early to tell, but -

Well, continuing to be friendly won't hurt for now. With a laugh, he decides to answer Therion's unasked question.]

Well, I've had to do things in my past that aren't exactly good to bring up in...polite company, shall we say. More than that, I'd expected a visit from you, to be quite honest. After all, I did lay the bait during the paintball matches.

[His grin...Turns a little sharper, a little bit more...like a spider's, in a sense, as his tone takes the cadence of a teacher.]

First lesson - always properly scope out your targets before hitting them. Especially when it's more than likely that they baited you out with the right things said in public.

[Therion has to hold his tongue. He knows that, and the insinuation he needs a lesson as basic as that adds insult to his already-injured pride. Problem is, he can't deny that Moriarty's right. Goaded by his previous failures and chafing under what was looking more and more like a sugarcoated death sentence, Therion jumped at the first seemingly golden opportunity--like some green, rookie pickpocket. Like a damned fool, really. Darius would've bitten his head off for this.

Caution tempers the desire to snap back to a glower. Maybe it's caution he could've used earlier and avoided this situation entirely, but it's still welcome enough now. Therion knows he's not out of the woods yet. Moriarty's not the first person he's seen wear that kind of smile, and he can't see yet why he would have laid a trap for someone like him.]

Noted. [Dry, dry voice, arid as the desert.] This the kind of class I should expect homework from, or...?

[Ah, good. He didn't bite back, despite being clearly irritated at the simple, almost insulting tip he'd given.

That told him that there was enough there to work with - to meld, and to teach, without being discarded instantly.]

Hahah! Only if you'd like it, of course. But -

[He shrugs, short and quick.]

- It is more that I wish to help those who work in the shadows. So much of the students here - and the teachers - work in much louder overt ways. Yet, these methods will not help everyone - and for those who work in different ways, I would seek to reach out to.

[And then, he does something unthinkable.

He moves away from the door, sitting down on his bed - giving Therion a clear shot to leave.]

But it is ultimately your choice. I am here to merely make the offer, if you wish to take it - and if you don't, or do not wish to believe me, well...I won't force you, nor will I report you. You are a student of this campus, and I placed the money and weapons in the hopes that you would come in and take them.

[He smiles - kindly, yet with a clear iron core behind it.]

However...I hope that at the very least, you consider my offer.

[What the hell.

Therion's eyes flicker to the exit and back, disbelieving. He's... going to let him go? Without getting some kind of deal out of him, without any kind of punishment, without... anything? Without taking back the money?

Hearing that Moriarty laid them out for him on purpose, like some kind of... gift and test all in one, makes the skin between his shoulderblades prickle very unpleasantly. You can't trust gifts. But it's not like Therion's just going to give them back, either. He needs them. They're useful. He just knows they must come with strings attached. Why won't Moriarty just lay it out for him now? What should he expect later?

He studies Moriarty intently, trying to find answers without having to reveal any of his own questions, but he can't see anything there but kindness--and not a weak kind of kindness, either, but an informed, unafraid one Therion doesn't understand.

Unconsciously, he weaves the drawstring of his hoodie around and between his fingers. A tell. But finally, he drops his gaze.]

...I'll think about it.

[Time to BOY SCAMPER OUTTA HERE, glancing back once in the doorway to make sure it's no trick.]

[It's absolutely no trick - Moriarty merely smiles and waves as he leaves, full of nothing but that kindness that shows no weakness, only firm confidence.

Still, he can tell that the boy is genuinely considering his offer - but experience has caused him to be cautious. Much like all of his kind, of countless young thieves who were brought into this life due to their circumstances.

So, he'll let Therion go - for now.

But now, he will never truly leave the web of the Old Spider.]

IC INBOX FOR DAYBREAK

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