every ghost town looks like paradise to me [open]

[Cecily van der May]

"Really?" Cecily sighed and rolled her eyes as the lowlife thief took off in a sprint, having realized that his blind date was actually a bounty hunter assigned to his case. With his name and a mugshot from a previous arrest, it had been easy to find the man on social media. From there, it was simple to locate, from his check-ins, the club that he frequented, and with that information, the rest was child's play. Cecily was on a nickname basis with every bartender in a twenty mile radius of her little apartment outside Hollowhill Grove. With one quick phone call, the arrangement was made. A message was relayed to the scum about his "secret admirer," and the hunt was in motion.

Cecily was good at her job. If the criminals had any idea how good she was, perhaps they would spare her some trouble by not attempting to run, but of course, they never did her any such kindness. Despite having donned stiletto boots for the date, Cecily was forced to run after him, navigating around the intoxicated masses on the dance floor, eyes on her prey so that she wouldn't lose him in the crowd. Thanks to a mix of booze, adrenaline, and desperation, few noticed the sudden chase scene, and most blinked once or twice before continuing right on with their decadent activities. It wouldn't have made a difference if they stared anyway. Cecily was very skilled at the art of tuning out her surroundings, especially when she was closing in on her target. 

Before she had even come close to being out of breath, the criminal was in handcuffs, not that it really mattered. Had he been an athletic man and able to outrun her, he would have run all the way to his car, only to spot the inconvenient bright yellow tire locks on his wheels. Cecily was always prepared, but it was still a bit fun to make them run for their lives when they thought they had a fighting chance. The ego-bruised thief was put in the back of Cecily's low-profile sedan, and a few insults later (mostly unoriginal, a few remarks about the number of penises she must have seen to get into her position), the loser was safely deposited with the proper authorities, and Cecily had the rest of the night to herself.

After picking up her check, Cecily was back in her car and rather disappointed that the assignment had been so quick. Three years into her profession, it had been a long time since anyone had given her a challenge, and the chases were getting shorter and shorter, forcing her to make unwanted decisions about what to do with all her free time. Glancing at the clock on the dashboard, she knew one thing for sure: nine o'clock was far too early to go home, where it would be quiet and peaceful and would give her far too much freedom to wander in her thoughts. With the left turn for her apartment being only two streets away, Cecily knew she had to make a decision quickly, so without another thought, she put her turn signal on and U-turned back in the direction of the same club she had been in for her "blind date." Sure, those people had just watched her chase her date down in a tight dress and heeled boots, but hell, they had good whiskey. 

"Single malt scotch, on the rocks," Cecily ordered as soon as the bartender saw her, her face half-buried in her palm.

"Back already, Ceci? That's got to be some sort of record. Why the long face?"

"Hopelessly addicted to the adrenaline, didn't get my fill, I suppose," she answered with a half-smile. 

"I knew it." The bartender smirked as he poured the drink. "You did turn twenty-one since I last saw you, didn't I?"

"Yes." She winked. He laughed and pushed the small glass over to her.

"On the house." She thanked him with a smile and a tip of the glass before turning to look at all the people dancing without a care in the world. She smiled at them and thought of joining, but her glass was still full. Still, it was nice to just watch their wild movements and listen to the blaring music with its pounding base. Just that did as much as her drink to take the edge off of being alive, dull her consciousness so that she could slip into a space where nothing mattered, and she didn't really have to think.

[Branton Applegate]

Once again, Branton had found himself wandering around the dance floor in some random bar. Moving into a group, then sparking up conversation that held the people's interest just long enough for him to swipe their wallets, empty them, and place the now emptied wallets back before they noticed. A rather handy talent, but just like magic, extremely easy if one only knew the right tricks. Which him being the jack-of-all-trades he was, made it all to easy as he cleaned out people's pockets. Humming a merry tune while he walked away from his latest victim. He navigated his way around the swarms of alcohol filled clubbers. Careful not to accidentally bump into someone, and start a scene. The last thing he needed was some drunken idiot trying to beat his face in. 

Now normally, Branton tried to follow a set of guidelines that he had learned from his days in the circus. he should never stay around in the same area after pick-pocketing three people. He was suppose to retreat from that place for minimum of two weeks to give people enough time to forget his face. It was one of those golden tricks that helped make the job easy. Today however, he decided to ignore the lessons that had been pounded into his head. He wanted to see how far he could get. He needed a challenge to see how far his skills will get him in one night. And it surely wasn't helping that he could feel how fat his greedy little wallet had gotten as he walked toward the counter. After ducking underneath someone's arm he sat himself down on one of the stool. Spinning himself around, and resting his elbows on the counter he looked around the room. Studying each person he saw, and rating how difficult it would be to steal from them. 16. 28. 9. 31. Frowning he let out a disappointed sigh. Just as he was about to get up and leave. Something caught the corner of his eye. 91! 

A sly smirk made it's way onto the magician's face as he eyed the black haired woman. She was dressed similar to rest of the people, including himself, but there was something in the girl's eyes that set her apart from the common folk. Whatever it was it reminded him of a lioness he once saw at the zoo. Strong, fierce and graceful. Branton always did wonder if a fox like himself could outwit the mighty lion. 

"I'll have what the lady is having." Branton said to the bartender, sliding into the stool next to girl. Earning him a disapproving look from the man as he poured his drink. Giving him a cocky smirk in response, he took the glass and tipped it to the man. Sliding him some of the bills he had swiped earlier. "So, did you scrap you knees when you crawled out of hell?" He asked bluntly. Bringing the glass to his lips, and tilting it back just enough to make it look like he was taking a drink. Even though none of the whisky went into his mouth he was good at making it seem like it. Letting out a refreshing "Ah" he set the glass back down. With fingers still on the rim while the rest of his hand hovered over it. The lighter that rested in his wristband becoming much more noticeable with such readily available fuel nearby. Tearing his eyes away from his hand, he looked back at the girl next to him. His bright emerald hues seeming to glow behind his choppy brown bangs. 

[Cecily van der May]

People-watching was a regular habit for Cecily. Standing in the crowds, blending into the scene, absorbing the energy, yet always more of an observer than anything. For a long time, she hadn't truly felt like a participant in life as it happened all around her. As often as she left her apartment and engaged in the conversations and made acquaintances, quite some time had passed since she had not felt like an outsider, an "other," and most of the time, that was perfectly okay. Losing the one person she loved most and, in the process of trying to save that one person, abandoning everyone else she cared for as well, had the effect of giving Cecily a phobia of meaningful relationships. In her philosophy, if she built no bridges, then she would never have to watch them burn.

That night was no different. Leaning with her back against the bar, head slightly tilted back, Cecily appreciated the mind-numbing music as it pulsed and throbbed through her body and smiled at the lively dancing crowd. Forever an observer, Cecily put her expert-level people-watching skills to good use, letting her eyes rest on one person at a time while she made up their stories in her head to occupy herself.

Middle-aged man in the grey suit. Banker by day. Wild, spastic dancer and mild creeper by night. Works tirelessly to provide for his family and just needs to let off a little steam.

Underage girl in the tiny jean shorts and gold glitter bra. Stripper with a heart of gold. Genius-level IQ, which she hides because she thinks it's a turn-off to potential customers. Working to pay the ridiculous tuition at the top university where she was just accepted. Wants to be a neurologist.

Young man with green eyes and choppy brown bangs. Apparently steals from drunk people for a living.

Admittedly, Cecily did not have to exert her imagination so much for that last story, as it didn't seem to be fiction. With Cecily curiously watching, the young man flittered about from group to group. His eyes met with their eyes, yet his agile hands navigated into their pockets. Cecily was part appalled, part amused, but mostly impressed. Her attention quickly drifted away from every other member of the crowd and focused on this one man as he did his unique dance of debauchery. She was so focused on his careful movements, on every precise maneuver, that it took her longer than it normally would have to notice that he was coming towards her, threatening to obliterate her rule of always being an observer. She made herself keenly aware of herself, the man, and the space that they occupied, just in case he tried to work his little party trick on her.

"I'll have what the lady is having."

Cecily couldn't help but chuckle a little, as it had been a long time since anyone had called her a lady, mostly because the only men she was around most of the time were the criminals she lugged into custody. Rather than avoiding his gaze, she brazenly let her eyes linger on the man's tone physique and handsome boyish face, and for once, she almost welcomed the change of pace from watching life happen around her.

"So, did you scrape you knees when you crawled out of hell?"

Cecily let out a low laugh from the back of her throat, tilting her head back a little at what she wasn't really sure was a pick-up line. "No, I actually scraped them falling for you. Got a band-aid?" she coquetted with a little wink. Brazen flirtation from a beautiful woman tended to catch men off-guard, she had found, and though she doubted it would work very well on this particular man, she figured she would take any minor advantage she could muster. Even as she replied to him, Cecily made sure not to take her eyes off the man as he sipped his drink, and she resisted raising an eyebrow at the refreshed-sounding "aah." Whiskey was hardly refreshing. Delicious to some, perhaps. Strong, definitely. But it wasn't exactly a cold iced drink on a summer day. Her suspicion was confirmed as she noted that the height of the liquid in the glass had hardly decreased at all, indicating that he had either taken a very small sip, or he was screwing with her. Either way, she could not count on his accuracy to be dulled by what little alcohol he had consumed if any.

[Branton Applegate]

Having been as preoccupied as he was, Branton hadn't noticed that his prey had been watching him, long before he had noticed her. It wasn't until the brunette had slide into his stool that he figured it out, and it had put him in a foreign place. For once, Branton's game had sky rocketed in difficulty. The match had just started, and already his potential moves had already been severely reduced. Although, Branton was careful not to let this show as he took the drink. "Not the best way to start off I suppose?" He said, a playful smirk forming on his boyish face, in response to her chuckling at being called a lady. His illuminate gaze not being avoided, feeling her eyes take in his appearance. Something that flustered the young man, but he didn't let it show on the outside as he kept an iron-clad grip on his exterior posture. 

His smile seemed to broaden once had heard her laugh, even if it was small, as he flirted with her. His body naturally slipping into the same routine. Smile at the appropriate times, blink three times a minutes, change his posture every so often to appear more natural, etc, etc. To the majority his behavior wouldn't seem odd, but to a special few, they'd be able to see through his guise. See that the magician was only reenacting a very well rehearsed play. 

However, for a very brief moment, Branton slipped when he had let out a refreshing "aah". His inexperience with any form of booze having gotten the best of him. He doubted the lioness next to him would have noticed, but there was no point in continuing with the facade now. Shrugging his shoulders, he willing accepted the fact that his own two mistakes had left him with a rook and bishop handicap. "Hm, I might." He muttered under his breath, his hands patting his pockets. Only for him to seemly come up empty handed. "That's odd I could of sworn I had one." His expression contorted into one of thought as he tapped his chin. Until finally he appeared to have remembered, his fingers snapping to outwardly show this. "Miss can I see you hand please?" He asked as he extended his own, his fist tightly shut. 

Once she had given him her hands, he carefully takes it between his two. His open hands over the back of her's, and his fist in her palm. Slowly he leaves what appears to be an egg in her hand as he carefully glides her fingers to close around it. "Now when I saw now I want you to crush the egg." Each word coming out very slow, and clear as he pulled his hands away. "Okay... Now!" If she had crushed the egg, there would be no yolk, or any of the nasty insides that spilled out. Instead, only pieces of the broken white shell, and a band-aid in the middle of her palm. "Is that what you were looking for?" He said with a pleased smirked on his face.