Traditions of the Trade

It was one of the those nights, the fourth in two weeks.

"I'm going out," he would say, before heading out into the night, doing who-knows-what, often coming back a few minutes before midnight or a good hour after it.

And it wasn't just during the days when he was at home. Somehow, Emmett had it set up that he needed only six hours of sleep to get himself up and about in the morning, often even less than that.

When asked, he simply stated he was 'out with the boys', whoever that was.

And so it was that predicament again.

63 was left alone, left to wonder just what he had been up to...

"Alright, see you when you get back," she said, not looking up from her book, "I'll be here waiting for you."

After he was gone she placed her book down, thoughts swirling through her head. It had been several weeks since she started living Emmett, something she was grateful for. He was nice and never spoke harshly to her and willingly let her feed off of him to live. But something felt off. for weeks now he would randomly get up and leave, not coming back until late. He often said he was with a group, but never said who or where their were going.

Soon the thought of it urked her to much, she had to find out. What better way than search his bedroom? Soon she was standing in front his door.

~I-I really shouldn't be snooping but...~ she began searching. At first there wasn't much... but then she started noticing things, lock picks, alarm hacking, ans various other thievery tools, "I can't believe it..." she wracked her brain trying to figure out why... the she realized, the apartment, the area he lived, even why he was there that time he found her.

She took some of the items to living room, planning to confront him when he came home.

Like last time, Emmett would arrive at around midnight, letting out a big yawn.

The sight of his hobby stuff out on display stopped him dead in his tracks.

"I-I know your probably upset with me..." her voice was shaky, afraid, "But I had to know...."

She curled up in the chair opposite the couch the layed the stuff on, her knees pulled up to her chin as she stared straight ahead, not looking at him. Her body was shaking a little as is was apparent that she was afraid of his reaction.

"...Have you hurt anyone?"

"Yes I have," he would simply tell her.

He wasn't angry, not one bit. Just a bit disappointed.

She continued to look straight ahead.

"Have you killed anyone?" She turned her away from him, hoping not to hear "yes"

"No, I have not." Hurt a few ones to knock them out, but never killed anyone.

She didn't look at him, looking away for the longest of time. Then she spoke, her voice cracking,

"How do I... how do I know you haven't?" She curled up tighter, her form slightly falling apart as sniffing could be heard, "Hurting others is something I never wanted to do. Every time I did I would curl up somewhere the sad creature I was and cry... begging for it to end..."

She turned to him, her eyes soggy with tears,

"How do I know I can trust you anymore?"

Emmett would look down, speechless. He couldn't look her in the eyes, even if he tried to.

Instead, he'd walk out of the living room and into his room.

63 stayed on the couch for the longest time, trying not to break down. Even now, just when she thought she found someone who cared all she got was a thief. someone who carried no honor or care for others.

She went to her bedroom, laying down and trying not to cry herself to sleep,

~I can't stay here... next time feed from him I'll leave...~ she surfaced the locket, opening it up and stared at the blank middle frame, ~I was stupid to think I found someone...~

The thief would reflect on his life, this hobby of his.

Wrote what he would throw away, told himself this had to stop. 

And then, he'd fall into his bed, falling asleep.

It was a gloomy morning, overcast and grey. Not a single bit of sunshine showed through the thick clouds that threatened to rain. 63 soon got up, making sure to grab necessary items she'd take with her that night after he gets back for her to feed off of him. Her locket, some money, a small stuffed animal she had bought. She quickly absorbed the items into her body, hiding them as she went about her daily business, making it a point to avoid directly tlking to Emmett should she run into him.

But Emmett was already gone; he had woken up early to avoid her, too. Nothing he would say would make a difference, so why bother?

The only thing he left for her to find in the morning was a note with her name on it and a hefty sum of cash attached.

63 was surprised when she found a stack of cash with her name on it, why would he leave it out like that?
She took it, also carrying it with her as she did her daily routine and visted the library and other places, soon arriving back at the apartment to wat on Emmett to get back.

The skunk would get home later than he usually does. A good hour or so late.

But coming late was the least of his worries.

When he walked in apartment, his clothes were ragged and torn at places, with cuts and scratches all over. His lower lip was busted and one of the eyes, flanked by a noticeable black eye, refused to stay open.

"I'm home." He'd nonchalantly proclaim.

63 let out a gasped when she saw him, immediately rushing over to help guide him to the couch,

"Y-Your hurt!" Her voice shaky as she inspected the injuries, "Who did t-his to you?" Befor he could answer she had already gotten the firts-aid equipment, starting to work on cleaning his wounds.

"I'm fine," he'd tell her, mildly flinching as she's cleaning his wounds. "I just fell a couple of times."

"Someone did this to you," her voice sounded different as she spoke, "I'm tasting other people's blood on you like you've been punched," her hand was in its liquid form, slowly trailing along his face to clean it while not irritating the wounds. The same was to be said as her other hand checked other wounded areas, finding that they weren't fall wounds.

"What happened?"

"I said I'd stop," he'd grumble. "Not steal anymore."

The so-colled friends showed their true colours when their best and their brightest wanted to retire.

Seven against one.

He ran for his life and they didn't press persuit. Lady luck won't be so kind next time.

"Stopping wasn't worth you getting hurt, nothing is worth that," her voice was slightly calmer but still upset. Her hand that was on his Face now gripped it a bit as she forced him to look at her, her eyes slowly starting to go black as she stared into him, "Now tell me who did this to you," her voice was a lot more confident and angry sounding, "I won't stop asking until I know your safe." Too make a point her other arm snaked around his body, not tight as to avoid hurting him, but just to detain him.

"I'll deal with them," he proclaimed. "Don't get yourself involved."

Stopping was worth the beating if it meant he'd gain her trust again.

He brought this on himself; her tagging along would just leave her injured.

She stared at him intently, her grip tightening a little as she did. She let out a sigh as she let go of him, finishing up attending to his wounds.

"Please... don't get hurt again,"  she sat down next to him, her form starting to deteriorate, "Promise me you won't get hurt again," she locked her now black and greens on him, waiting for his answer.

"I can't promise that," Emmett would say, plain and simple. He'd open up the drawer and put on one of black jackets.

Taking a key from nearby keychain, it would rapidly transform into something akin to a sword when he held it. He gave it a few practice swings, holding it against his shoulder by the dull side.

"I'm heading out."

63 loked him, full well knowing she couldn't stop him. Not without hurt him at least, and she didn't want to do that.


"I can't stop you... just.. be careful ok?" She walked up to him, wrapping her arms around him, "I not losing someone again..." she let go, turning  without a word and went to her bedroom. 

~As soon as he leaves, I'm following him,~ she thought as she curled up on the bed, listening for him to leave, "Gotta be careful when I... when...  I... I'm.... Hungry....No.... Not him.." she shook her head, trying to keep her mind straight, "I'll hold myself together until this is over."

She look into the mirror, looking on as she saw her eyes had already gone black, her feral side was surfacing.

She was just hoping to hold it off as long as possible...

Emmett walked out into the night, trailing his fellow thieves and former friends, back to their hideout - the attic in an old, decrepit building.

One of the more tech-savvy of them managed to get some electricity running there and the rest of the organisation started from there, adding new tech bit by bit. They first took interest in him for his ingenuity and his strange weapon. Lately, it was just challenging each other to go for a more risky target than the next.

They had all the rights to feel offended, even betrayed when he announced his retirement. He was willing to part with them in peace, have them go their separate ways.

Not anymore.