(M) Bay Water Bandits IC (Lea and Siks)

[SikstaSlathalin]

Despite being cross with her before the young Mage couldn't help but smile a little at Libby's antics. She always liked a pat on the head for things and despite how hard she was on herself she earned a lot more than most girls in the Bandits Most find a niche and work it to death, a Turtledove, a Bludgeon, a Wet Girl, each job had set list of requirements and standards. Most he came across liked their lot and stuck with it. But Libby was always the first to volunteer for something new and that often meant Whistler was dragged along despite liking his lot in life and wanting to stick with it.

But once you get a live in partner, you're a team til death do you part, kinda like a marriage. Even breaking up a working team was a rare occurrence. Rike hated the paperwork needed to assign a new complimentary partner, so aside from the sex part (normally) a partnership in the Bay Water Bandits was a marriage. Though he's had partners he's had sex with, those were fun assignments.

Whistler was already on the bed and watched in amusement at Libby's reaction to it. He was told he sleep talked, but wasn't sure what she might've heard that she didn't already know.
"Yea same room, but never same bed. Sleep talking aside I have a habit of cuddling bed partners and pillows are no match for a Mage." Still he would do his best to respect it after giving it a few kicks more to her side. He likes sprawling out in his sleep and he knew the pillow would interfere with that. He lifted his pan pipe and dusted it off. "If you think this is awesome wait until you see the bathroom, it's nothing what we had at HQ. Has an actual hot water setting and a single toilet that isn't an ice cold bucket." He settled into his side and adjusted the waistband on his boxers before he reached into his bag and pulled out a couple of his puppets. A small male and small female pair he calls Elly and Icarus. They were his go-to infiltrators, but were also his best dancers. Every night he practiced his art with them and it was something Libby always liked so he'd give her a show like she gave him one.

He placed the small puppets on the pillow between them and began with a slightly darker sounding song. The small dolls were surrounded with soft blue light the color of Whistler's eyes then came to life and began dancing a kind of waltz together.

[Leanna]

Warm and content, Libby watched on in silence as Whistler fetched his pipe and puppets. She had always loved his displays of magic (in spite of her shallow jealousy of it); so as the room began to shine with blue light, the half-elf grew ever more attentive. Instinctively, she grabbed on to the pillow in between them and hugged it tightly, just as Whistler’s show began.

As she listened, she found herself drifting away, her mind wandering into some distant land of memories past; memories of the family that she once had. It had been a long time since she had felt anything much akin to safety, but the mixture of music and memory was invoking just that. The half-elf was soon drowning—in the sound, the cosiness, the wellbeing—and enjoying the mage’s exposition immensely. His song was comforting to her.

“You play so well, Whistler,” she finally said softly, just as he was finishing up. But you know that already, she inwardly mused, her body and mind beginning to feel the weight of sleepiness. It had been a busy day, but what a significant day it had also been. She felt like she was finally on the sort of job that could actually get her noticed. “Play another,” she then requested after a yawn, her speech becoming groggy with exhaustion as her lids began to feel as heavy as lead.

It wouldn’t be much longer now.

Sleep would soon take her.

[SikstaSlathalin]

The Mage chuckled around his pipe and began playing a lullaby to put his partner to sleep. The song wasn't very long, but it didn't matter Lea was asleep before he even got half way through the lullaby. He watched his puppets dance in a slow kind of sensual dance with each other. He closed his eyes and began to picture himself and Libby dancing in place of Elly and Icarus. Holding each other close enough to share body heat looking at each other with more than just the eyes of friends and partners. He's had girlfriends before, but none lasted half as long as his partnership with the now snoring Half Elf. It was different with her, and now they're married even have the official license if someone asks. But she wants to impress Rike more than be Bart's loving wife. He sighed shaking the worry from his mind and focusing back on picturing himself and Libby dancing.

It was one of his secrets, but he didn't know if it was one of the secrets he supposedly said in his sleep. It wouldn't matter anyway, Libby wanted things to stay professional and as much as it annoyed he would respect it for a bit, but he was sure it wouldn't stay that simple. He finished the song and put his pipe and puppets away. Moving on silent feet he did one last check of the apartment making double sure everything was locked and secure. He clicked the last light off and climbed back into bed. It was warm so he would just sleep on top of the sheets, scooting down he looked at Libby and let out a small smiled before leaning down and kissing her lightly on the lips and whispered.
"Good night my lovely wife." He laid on his side and despite the pillow between them he draped his arm over her side and placed it on her stomach pulling both her and the pillow close before sleep finally got him as well.

[Leanna]

The Next Morning

Wake up! sounded the familiar voice of Libby, beckoning the still-sleeping Whistler from alongside the bed. The half-elf was already showered, dressed, and ready to go; and now sporting a very different type of outfit than the one that had been assigned to her by the disguise department.

She had no idea why Rike thought it would be a good idea to make her wear a dress while on a job (and don’t even get her started on that long, blonde monstrosity). How did he expect her to do any proper sort of work while being so... frou frou?

Thus, the night before, Libby had made an executive decision while they were doing their shopping: she was going to sneak in a few bits and bobs that were not on the list, and tried to do it all under Whistler’s nose.

Libby’s Unauthorised Purchases:

1) Casual ware which offered more free range of movement;
2) Types of wigs that she felt were more suitable;
3) Miscellaneous items that would remain a secret for now.

Of course, she wasn’t exactly sure what Rike would think about her taking liberties on changing her disguise to suit her own fancies, but... what he didn’t know wouldn’t hurt him, right? Besides, she would still get the job done (and probably even more efficiently than if she did things exactly his way). Rike would have no choice but to promote her! Then everyone would really and truly respect her ability to be a bandit, instead of telling her things like

You’re not cut out for this life, Libby.

I said wake up! was soon repeated with increased fervor, a moment before the half-elf seized her pillow to whack Whistler in the face with it.

“I can’t decide which one I like best.”

Libby then proceeded to pull out three different types of wigs from her hidden box beneath the bed, each varying in cut and colour: there was a short brown bob, a wavy black shoulder-cut, or straight red that fell to her clavicle. She soon was trying on each one, modeling them in order to glean Whistler’s opinion on her new disguise.

“Which do you prefer?”

As Libby stood there awaiting a response from the mage, memories from the night before began to involuntarily infiltrate her mind, causing a bit of a nervous flutter in her tummy. She didn’t know what to say to Whistler about it (or if she should say anything at all); nor did she afford him any sign that she had even sensed his light affections. But she had, even while asleep. She had sensed everything and, admittedly, enjoyed it. But it also made her a wee bit nervous.

“And I hope you slept all right,” she stammered on, trying to avoid any awkward type of silence as he considered her. Truth be told, if Whistler had slept well next to Libby, than he truly must have the patience of a saint. She had learned some rather nasty habits while living in the orphanage—as most comforts were precious commodities there—and she shared a single bed with three other children. You had to take everything you could get, without asking, before others took everything from you.

For instance, the half-elf had a tendency to sprawl out wildly, slowly seizing more and more of the bed—until she had claimed practically all of it for herself. Then, Sleeping Libby would hijack the blankets, twirling them around herself until she looked like something akin to a hot dog. She was also known to kick and elbow (all while asleep, mind you) anyone who tried to take back any bit of blanket or space on the bed. So poor Whistler was in for a nightly fight with Sleeping Libby and her hostile, subconscious takeovers of any beds she slumbered in.

“I slept really well, actually. Feel fresh as a daisy.”

[SikstaSlathalin]

One thing Whistler was always good at was sleeping like the dead. Once he was out he was out, he held onto Libby despite her flailing and kicking. But sometime before dawn he had awoken to go to the bathroom and came back to her being flipped around and across the bed her tank-top pulled up to just under her breasts. It was a nice sight, but the young mage was tired and just pulled the shirt down and flipped the lithe Half-Elf around to her side of the bed before he flopped back onto his own side.

He slept soundly until his wife pelted him with a pillow. Mumbling he rolled over and sat up his eyes blinking owlishly as Libby held up three wigs for his opinion. It took the Mage a few seconds to gather his wits then pointed to the brown one. "Everyone saw you with long blonde hair yesterday, going from that to short brown hair might be more believable than the other two. Best think up a good excuse though wifey. I slept well enough you're quite warm ya know? Might have to cuddle you more tonight."

He chuckled lightly as he stood up and looked at the alarm clock. He had an hour until he was supposed to head to work and the interview. He looked at Libby's current outfit and nodded slightly. "Well, I hope you like the uniform you'll get from the diner more than the dress Rike gave you. Best hang it up at least, we might need to dress nice someday." Grabbing some slacks, socks, and a tank-top and headed for the bathroom. "Don't forget your wifey duties to make breakfast Elisa." He said before he shut the door and began getting cleaned up for the day.

[Leanna]

The lady bandit gave a dismissive shrug to Whistler’s comment about the blonde wig, and secured the short brown number tightly to her head, instead.

“I think a cut and dye is a good enough explanation, ye?” she questioned rhetorically, before fetching one of the wigs to playfully place on Whistler’s head. “You try wearing that thing all day, and see how you like it. It’s itchy as all hell.”

Regarding his eventual comment on the warmth of her body, Libby gave an incredulous smile. She tended to get abnormally warm as she slept, which was a little something that she had never had reason to tell him about, yet.

“Oh. About that,” Libby began to confess. “Sorry if it was a bit much. My body radiates more heat than normal while I sleep... er, releasing energy that I absorb throughout the day. You know how I’ve told you how I can see, smell, hear, taste, and feel things more intensely than... uh, a normal person?”

Libby paused, awkwardly.

“I experience sensory overload. It’s sort of an elf thing,” she admitted. “My mother has—er, well, had it. You know how minds dream to avoid an overload of cognitive information? Well, my body does the same thing. To deal with an overload of sensory information it... well, you felt how warm I was, ye? My skin heats up and releases it all through radiation.”

The half-elf had always just figured this phenomenon she experienced was something akin to a computer overheating due to excess of power. Ah heh. Yeah. Something like that?

“I don’t try to understand it. But I suppose I’d be a great cuddle buddy in a snowstorm.”

As to the mage’s mention of breakfast, Libby gave an upward eye roll before letting out a sigh that blew the tawny fringe of her wig slightly out of place. Of course he wanted her to cook breakfast. Whistler loved being tended to just as much as Libby hated tending.

“Fihhhhhine. But only because I’m eager to get this job rolling, and we’re likely to be walking out that door sooner if I just agree to chock something up for you.”

With that, Libby left Whistler and made her way to the kitchen to prep up some breakfast for her partner. She had already eaten (only a piece of fruit), but she figured Whistler would have a bit more of an appetite than her skinny self.

Gah, she thought to herself as she cracked some eggs into a pan. I hate cooking and handling food. Rike knows this, so why did he put me in a diner?

She was beginning to question whether her boss was purposefully giving her tasks and outfits that she did not like. Hmmm. Perhaps he was testing her?

[SikstaSlathalin]

Whistler was in and out of the bathroom quickly, he just had to shave, put deodorant on, dress, and comb his hair into a manageable shape, though being as short as it was that wasn't a hefty task. Once he was ready he walked out and smiled smelling the breakfast. He chuckled watching the skinny Half-Elf move about the kitchen. He knew she hated cooking and handling other people's food, and it was part of the reason he asked her to do it. Coming into the kitchen he kissed her cheek smirking.
"Oh such a nice wife you are. And I don't mind you releasing pent up heat while you sleep, was nice. Especially after I moved that pillow." He winked at her then moved to the fridge and poured two glasses of milk and placed one besides Libby before he put some bread in the toaster and set it on light and crispy.

He sipped his drink then grabbed their files flipping them open and pulling out their IDs and cards. He got a new wallet and the girl next to him got a long zebra print clutch wallet. He put his partner's cards in and handed it to her smiling. "You got a nice pretty wallet there Elisa." Libby hated almost all girly things, so Rike putting all these girly things on the list for her was just massively amusing to the Mage. He then began putting his own wallet together while he waited for the toast.

[Leanna]

Hmm. Milk. Ew.

“Thank you,” the half-elf murmured, receiving the glass from him, hesitantly. She couldn’t even remember the last time she had drank a glass of the stuff, if she was honest. The idea of consuming such a liquid always seemed rather odd to Libby—and it smelled vile, as well.

“Nothing like a tall glass of bovine-udder-juice in the morning,” she remarked in a bit of playful sarcasm. The stuff was made for calves and not people, in her most humble opinion. “Hmmmm. Fresh out the cow tit.”

Oh, fuck it. Here goes nothing.

Wanting to send a nonverbal cue (specifically of c’mooon, let’s go) to Whistler, Libby triumphantly began to down the entire pint of milk in a single gulp, even as the mage began dishing out his snarky remarks about the zebra print wallet.

He was teasing her again. The half-elf gazed at her partner with a bemused side-eye, all while she gallantly made her attempt at polishing off the milk. And she was so close to succeeding at this, when...

Bleeeeeggghhh!

Leaning over the sink, Libby proceeded to spit out the remaining milk, unable to convince herself to swallow any of it. Her sensitive nose just could not get past the repulsive cow-udder smell.

“Milk, 1. Libby, 0.”

Libby gazed up at Whistler, now sporting a milk mustachio and a look of raw disgust as he sipped away at his glass of bovine-udder-juice. She shuddered a bit at Whistler’s apparent enjoyment of the drink before deciding to combat his teasing with a bit of her own.

“Perhaps Rike just wanted to see me in a dress,” she implied with an amused half-smile, returning the mage’s wink tit-for-tat before she stubbornly seized the ugly zebra print wallet from his hand.

Gah, she was so eager to just get this show on the road. The anticipation of the job was increasing, and she could barely restrain herself from just pushing Whistler right out that door.

But Libby digressed, offering her friend one more innocent smirk while deciding to wait, patiently.

[SikstaSlathalin]

Whistler chuckled at her words and her reaction to milk. "Well guess you Elves like Goat's milk or something, and you did look good in the dress, but I'm sure if he just asked you'd dance around in skin-tight leather for him." The toast popped up and the quick handed Mage quickly buttered them and handed one to Libby before he scooped out the eggs she was making and made a rough sandwich out of them with some shredded cheese and ketchup.

Drinking the rest of his milk and wrapping his breakfast sandwich in a napkin he grabs a set of keys off the wall and spins them around his fingers before tossing them to Libby. "That's your house key and the key to the dead drop where we'll get our orders and where we'll drop off intel we gather. It's the mail box two blocks south of here outside of your diner." He plucked a second set down and dropped them into the pocket of his slacks.

He quickly locked down all the windows, grabbed his bag of stuff and headed back for the door. He noted her sitting patiently and smirked. "Come on dear wifey we need to hold hands downstairs, on the bus, and until you get dropped off at your work." He slung his bag atop his shoulders and held his sandwich in his right hand while holding his left out to Libby.

[Leanna]

Setting the toast aside, Libby wrinkled her nose skeptically at her ‘husband,’ who was soon sauntering to the door of their new abode. For better or worse, Whistler had always been a rather blunt individual. Still, despite being well acquainted with this part of his personality, the bandit herself was a bit taken aback by one of his comments.

Is that what you think of me?

“Oh, yes. You are so right. I’m one of Rike’s floozies,” Libby remarked offhandedly as she made her way over to the puppet-master, giving him no clear sign as to whether she was joking or not. “How else do you expect someone like me to get notoriety in this joint?”

It was common knowledge that within the Bay Water Bandits there were certain female members who made obvious attempts at utilising their bodies to gain status within Rike’s organisation. Whether they actually succeeded in this endeavor with him was a bit of a blurred line, however, and heavily surrounded by rumour.

(But to Libby, it sure seemed as if these more raucous ladies were promoted rather quickly within the Bay Water Bandits, a coincidence that did give cause for wonder. Albeit no one seemed to know the actual truth, thus everyone whispered out slightly different opinions on the matter.)

But Rike would never see me like that...

Truth be told, the half-elf’s own peculiar feelings towards Rike were a bit more complex than what Whistler had inferred them to be. At its core, these feelings were rooted in the need for some sort of centralising figure in her life; him somehow filling a void that had caused her pangs ever since the incarceration of her parents, and her subsequent relocation to the orphanage.

...whether I want him to...

So who was Rike to Libby?

...or not...

To Libby, Rike was a guardian to the vulnerable; but also a daunting figure who had an air about him that commanded respect. His very pores seemed to ooze power, it seemed, although this demeanor was also muddled with a charm that made it easy to overlook any passing feelings of mistrust that she may have had towards him and his sometimes-shady tactics.

This made him something of an enigma to her; an enigma whose approval she deeply craved, desperately and even piteously so. It was this sort of presence that her life had lacked ever since she had been robbed of her true central support system: her family.

...

...

...

As Whistler prattled on, Libby listened intently.

“Okay. Got it. I’m ready.”

She pocketed the key set given to her.

“I’m going to go all out, I promise.”

She grasped his extended hand, tightly.

“Because, you know, not all of us are so lucky to be gifted with magic like you. Rike looks at you and sees his very own golden goose,” she chimed on, essentially hinting that Whistler himself was like a pet to their infamous boss. Though, it was an honour he had earned, she supposed. Everyone knew that he was one of Rike’s top-earning thieves.

In fact, before Libby had even arrived at the Bay Water Bandits, the mage held this reputation, so their jobs were seen more as his jobs. As far as others were concerned (or so Libby thought), she was just the help, even if Whistler’s returns grew ever-higher once she was paired with him.

“You’re a valuable resource to the Bandits.”

Libby paused for a moment to eye him, warmly, genuinely.

“Bartholomew.”