When We Catch a Criminal (Roscoe)

by **Eleazar Victor Syroin** on June 3rd, 2014, 8:21 pm

16th of Summer, 508A.V.

The streets were sweltering that warm summer afternoon, the dry heat of the day slowly melting away into a humid dusk as the people flowed in and out of the sunberthian streets. Hide amongst the madness Eleazar weaved in and out the bodies trying not to get trodden on as he went. The thirteen year old hadn’t quite hit puberty yet, stick thin with longish legs. He was barely hitting five and half feet in height, perfect for being over looked in a crowd. Still running through the river of bodies, the boy was heading for the Pig's Foot. Intuition and experience told him that after a day like today there was going to be more than enough drunken fools whose pocket's could be picked, cutting him a bit of slack from the usual hard fisted merchants

Passing by the opening of an alleyway, the street urchin absent mindedly glanced down in it only to stop in his tracks. Just over half a dozen men stood over a bleeding body that twitched and cried out with each kick they sent at it. They looked to be late teens early twenties in age, their victim's age being unverifiable from were the boy stood as their cold eyes and sadistic grins told him all he really wanted to know of the men. One of the larger ones stood away from his friends guarding what appeared to be their coats and bags as they continued reducing their victim to a whimpering pulp.

Now if anything Eleazar was smart, or at least not stupid, he knew to steal from a person that could break him in half was a death warrant. However what he knew and what he did, never seemed to match up every time. Turning down the alley way, the scruffy lad kept his footsteps light as he approached the man from behind. Jusging himself to be close enough, Eleazar couched down and lightly tugged open the nearest bag search it's contents. Nothing of interest; a few weapons, some letters and a tin of foul smelling herbal ointment. Wrinkling his noise in disgust, he moved on to the second bag. This one was harder to get to as it involved slowly dragging it along the ground toward himself from where is rested next to the guards feet. Luckily their victim's screams had the guard distracted enough that the man didn't notice the bag slide gracelessly over the earth under his nose.

Checking inside this bag a grin to spread over the young teen's face, now that was more like it. A small bag of mizas, an apple, a book titled 'Aunt Jess's home Recipes', a small fork and a drawing of a nude young woman. It probably would seem strange to anyone watching that he instantly went for the book rather than any of the other contents of the bag but Eleazar knew that some types od knowledge could only be paid for by literature, and that was worth more than any street thug's lunch or private pornography.

Holding the book to his chest, the teen fingers had only just gone to get the bag of mizas when one of the thugs looked up from beating the stuffing out of the soon-to-be corpse and spotted him. Both froze immediately. Noting his friend's sudden odd behaviour the guard followed his gaze down and round to the shrimp of a kid behind him. Springing to life, Eleazar shoved the bag of mizas into his mouth, teeth holding it in place as he jumped up. Sparing a sharp kick to the back of the guard's knee, the teen took off as fast as he could out of the alley into the thinning streets. Heart pumping in his ears, the cries of the thugs and thundering footfalls only spurred his legs on faster. The chase was on.

by **Roscoe** on June 3rd, 2014, 8:48 pm

It was just another day on the streets of Sunberth for Roscoe and his band of thugs. They were a small crew, no big flashy names, no trademark M.O., nothing like that. But they did well enough for themselves. A few victims here and there, enough to keep some coin in everyone's pocket. And in the end that was all that mattered, right? Ros often felt a little strange about being a common bandit, but he bid those thoughts to depart from him. It wasn't important for him to think what he was doing was right, or the best way, or anything like that. What was important was to keep his compatriots directed as their leader, that they might find and obtain all the plunder they could need or want for themselves. They lived a merry life, and they asked for nothing more.

On this hot summer day as they paced around the streets of Sunberth, they hunted for a good score. They still had enough Miza's to do well for a few days, but it was coming on time to 'replenish the stores' so to speak. Women and booze didn't pay for themselves, after all. They walked a usual route, meandering through the less busy alleyways or less taken streets, staying clear of bigger gangs that might take offense to their presence. They had been about the business of hunting for a good, solid target for hours already, and the sun was now high in the sky, the afternoon was just arriving. That was when they spotted him. Or rather, that was when Roscoe spotted him. His men were mostly incompetent at thinking based pursuits, though their muscle made them quite desirable as allies in a good fight.

Ros spotted the man move hastily through a street and turn down an empty alleyway. Everything about him suggested his worth as a target. He dressed nice- for Sunberth, anyways- he didn't look very rough around the edges, so probably an easy fight, and he had bags with him. Bags held all manner of things. Miza's. Food. Valuable items. It didn't take Ros long to decide that these goods would be worth liberating from their current owner, and as he gestured to his comrades, they quickly agreed. The man hadn't been paying attention to what was going on behind him as he walked through the alley, and by the time he realized there were multiple men upon him, it was too late. A swift punch to the back of the head by one of the men dropped him to the ground, allowing another to filch his bags off of him and set them to the side, then taking the coats of the rest of the men as they beat the man to a pulp. Roscoe stood back and watched, finding it somewhat entertaining, though he had been sorely disappointed that the man didn't put up a fight at all. There was nothing worse in the world than weak men who wouldn't fight. They deserved what this one was getting. They all deserved it.

The beatings progressed for a while, and Ros lost track eventually, letting his gaze roam to other things. Looking back into the street, he spied a shapely young woman, and let his eyes linger on her, perusing all the different curves her body offered to him, like an elixir to the eyes. She noticed and flashed a playful glance back at him, and he thought he spied a look of familiarity in her face. It wouldn't surprise him, as he'd had many a drunken night in Sunberth at this point. He'd expected that there were a fair few women he'd gone to bed with whom he had no idea of. He entertained the idea of this one for a while, enjoying the thought, and deciding he would have to have a chat with her when his work was finished.

However, that train of thought was suddenly interrupted when the men behind him began yelling like they'd seen something or been attacked. As Roscoe spun around he saw them scrambling to charge down the alley after a young boy holding what appeared to be some of their loot. This would not do. He quickly cast a glance back to the young woman, sending a wink her way before sprinting as fast as he could down the alley after his men, hoping they could catch up to this little petch and get their goods. As he made it out of the alley, he managed to catch up with his men and caught a quick glance of the young boy weaving in between groups in the crowds. Sensing the need to establish a plan in the moment, he barked an order at his men.

"Spread out and move slowly through the crowd, we can't all charge after him or we'll get ourselves in deep shyke! I'll chase him because I'm smallest, you all try to make sure he has no where to run if I can turn him around!"

With that said, he continued his charge, hoping their loot wasn't truly lost this day.

NaJu Word Count: 854

by **Eleazar Victor Syroin** on June 4th, 2014, 6:19 pm

The streets were emptying at an alarming rate as the tired workers took refuge in their homes or the local tavern. Shyke, why did it have to be now? Oh well done Elea,you really pick your moments, don't you? Let's piss off a load of thugs right when the crowds disappear. Nose flaring as he desperately sucked in air, the pages of the book chaffed at his bare arms. The thing was heavier than he first thought, seemingly becoming heavier by the chime. He could just ditch it but books were hard to come by in the lawless city. Who knew when he would find another?

Shyke. A quick glance Behind him saw only a single man pursuing him, it wasn't the guard nor the man that had spotted him either. Where were the others? Had they not given chase? No, nonsense they had been right on his tail as he left the alley where had they gone- Realisation hit the kid like a tons of bricks, they had split up to corner him. Like dogs hunting rabbits, or thugs hunting thieves as the case was.

Another quick glance over his shoulder told Eleazar his chaser hadn't given up yet nor looked like he would. He was one of the younger thugs, probably only a few years older than himself. This unfortunately ruled out any chance of the bastard getting tired from his old age and giving up. Heck with longer legs and a predator's glint in his eye, he was gaining on the teen. Panicking the thief, took a sharp turn sudden turn to his left, hoping to out manoeuvre him if he couldn't out run him. He needed to get to the docks, where his size would help him out.

Lifting a grubby nose to the air, the scent of salt drifted in from his right. Quickly taking the next turn in this direction, he zig-zaged through the tangled maze of streets haphazardly following the scent of salt. All the while he had to keep readjusting his grip on the book as it slowly slipped from between his sweaty hands, teeth clenched on the bag as saliva dribbled out of his mouth. Scaring a bedraggled cat out of his way, Eleazar hit the docks as the sun hung low in the sky. Jumping in between a couple barrels of what smelled to be fish, the kid rested for a few chimes before darting off again through a mess of rope and wooden crates that littered the dock. Hopefully he could lose his pursuers in here.

by **Roscoe** on June 8th, 2014, 5:38 am

As Roscoe gave chase to the young thief, he started working through some thoughts. He noticed that the boy appeared to have taken a book. It was interesting to Ros that someone would have gone for that, even as a secondary prize. There was food in that bag they had gotten, much more valuable than knowledge in this kind of a town. And yet he goes for the book. And there was the whole idea that some kid actually had the stones to walk up right behind a group of men like he had, while they were beating a man to a pulp, and rummage through their prizes. That was bold. This kid was cut from a different cloth than the street rats who picked your pocket or stole your bread at night. In another setting, he might have tried to bring him on board as one of his crew. But circumstances didn't allow for such wishful thinking at the moment. The kid had their mizas, and he was going to get away if they didn't take them back.

Fortunately for them, the streets were rapidly emptying. Everyone was making their way home, leaving the path to the target increasingly clear. With the danger of making any major messes now past, Roscoe threw his right hand up in the air slightly, beckoning his men to join him in the high speed chase they seemed to have going now. They continued to give chase to the thief, and Roscoe was gaining on him. At this rate he would have him in his clutches in a few moments. 'Just.... a little..... closer......' he thought to himself, trying to muster more speed. He wasn't used to having to run like this- usually they didn't end up at odds with the kind of people who could run away like this. His lack of experience in this kind of situation evidenced itself when the kid took a sudden left turn, giving Ros no time at all to react. He tried to turn to follow him but tripped, unable to slow himself enough to redirect. He slid on his feet and tumbled onto the dirt just past the alley, disorienting him and setting his ears to ringing. He was able to maintain enough wherewithal to yell at his men to "Keep after him!" but it still took him a full chime to get reoriented and back on his feet.

Recovered fully, he made his way through a nearly un-navigable network of alleys, guided by the gigantic mess of scattered, broken pieces of trash and some smaller barrels laying about everywhere. His men were so far from subtle that it pained him at times. They certainly got the job done when it came to dishing out a beating, and they followed orders exceptionally well, but there were some things he never could teach them. In any case, it worked out in his favor this time, allowing him to track them quite easily, finding them only a couple chimes later, searching barrels and the nooks and crannies of a particular alleyway.

"Oi boss, you alright? That was quite tha' tumble ye took back there." One of his men said, with a slight chuckle. He was bent over, looking through the contents of a barrel. Coming closer, Ros could see that the barrel was practically empty, save for a couple pieces of what looked like fruit in the bottom. He was livid at the fact that he was being so openly mocked, and even more frustrated that this man was so clearly wasting his time mucking about. Walking behind him, Roscoe spoke. "Hey, let me help you get a better look in there, buddy." With that said, he planted his foot on the mans behind and shoved, tumbling his upper body into the barrel and flipping it over, causing it the smash in several places as the man tumbles and flailed about. Roscoe was about continue berating the fool when he heard a slight shuffling from behind him. Quickly spinning around, he saw, on the complete opposite end of the alley, a small figure darting from a set of barrels.

"Get your petchin' arse out of there you idiot. All of you, come with me." Roscoe growled at them, frustrated that they not only managed to be completely wasting their time, but they hadn't even pursued the kid in the right direction. They quickly moved down the alley to resume the chase, and as they rounded the corner the overwhelming scent of a sea breeze greeted Roscoe's nostrils. The sound of feet on wood, the abundance of barrels, the rigging, the smell. The thief wanted to lose them here, at the docks. It was a clever idea, but Roscoe felt he could end things here.

"All of you, spread out and enclose the docks main entrances as best you can. If you see him, call out where. If he tries to get out, you stop him."

With that said, Roscoe proceeded into the docks, and began lifting up loose pieces of rigging, looking through barrels, checking anywhere he could think of for the kid. He didn't see the thief yet, but he was confident that he would before long. He had nowhere to run now. It was only a matter of time, and they didn't have anything better to do.

"I'll find you, you clever little bastard." He exclaimed as he searched.

by **Eleazar Victor Syroin** on June 12th, 2014, 7:30 pm

Bolting onto the docks, Eleazar made sure to avoid getting tangled in the loose netting about as he ran. The latest ship in was already resting safe for the night, a few weary svefra eyeing him as he went by. Couldn't blame them, the docks were a known hunting ground for some nasty types, especially as it grow dark. Crates helped give him a bit of cover as he set a course for the shipyard part, easily recognised by the lifting equipment and cranes towering into the skyline. Here the normal stacks of cargo were punctuated with large carts and wagons, large piles of wood and metal decorating the spaces in between.

A barnacled fishing ship was the current resident in for repairs, balanced neatly on top of the wooden supports as it awaited a new rubber up replace the splintering one adorning it, it's size splitting the area nearly in two. Glancing behind him, the kid saw a shadow move out the corner as he reached the edge of the boat. Ducking down, he was small enough to crawl between the supports pushing a bag like sailor on a book shaped vessel out in front of him as he squirmed after them on his stomach, scuffing his elbows as he went. Reaching the other side, he quickly picked up the book and mizas again, stopping for a breather. Sure he could run fairly fast with out falling provided the ground wasn't too rocky, but distance had always been a killer.

Breathing back to an acceptable rate, Eleazar set off again. Hopefully he had managed to ditch them by now or at least mislead them to another part of the docks. Either way there should be an exit from the docks near by, he could head out there and circle back around the edges of town, maybe get back to his apartment before night really started to set in. Booted feet moving briskly to where he could vaguely remember the exit being, this wasn't the first time he had had to race to the dock whilst being pursued and unfortunately probably wasn't the last.

Rounding the last pile of what might have been rigging once, the teen had barely taken half a dozen steps before a cry of 'Boss ;e Runt's o'er 'ere!' sent him scurrying back to the boat. Shyke. They had actually thought this through, which probably meant the other exits were covered too. Mind fresh with panic, he quickly sort out a place to hide. The easiest option was up the ladder into the fishing boat but it was also the most obvious. Although glancing around the next best thing was a pile of rope, haha like that would work, boat it was then.

Throwing the bag of mizas as hard as he could, it soared up, clearing the rail, hitting the deck with a clink, the book followed with a less graceful thud. Racing along to wooden ladder, precariously balanced against the side of the grounded vessel. Trying to race up the first three rungs only had him throw a foot through one of the holes, having his flail briefly in frustration as he tried to remove his foot. Succeeding after a few chimes only to lose his boot to gravity, Eleazar left it, climbing up the next eight rungs at a slower pace. Tumbling onto the deck, he used his bare foot to kick the ladder over and began to wiggle across the deck to collect his loot.

by **Roscoe** on June 17th, 2014, 12:48 am

"Come on out, friend. I promise not to hurt you too bad." Roscoe spoke to the barrels and netting littering the docks around him. He knew it was pointless to do things like that- if this thief had any intentions of giving up, he certainly would have done it already. No, there had been far too much of a chase at this point. He really wanted that loot. And when you wanted something that bad you didn't just give up because somebody asked nicely. Or not so nicely, as it were. Nevertheless, Roscoe kept poking around, searching eagerly for his prey. He was methodical and moved more slowly than others might have. He knew a place like this was rife with hiding spots for the smaller members of Mizaharian society. He could be in practically any barrel, under almost any rogue piece of netting. He had outwitted the dunces Ros called thugs and had effectively lost them. Of course it would take a healthy dose of wit and speed to make it out unseen with his men on the lookout- but then again, maybe it wouldn't. Ros became somewhat morose as he realized that trying to get his men to obey his tactical orders and having them actually be effective in carrying them out were two things entirely. They had already failed him twice in the last few chimes. Upon the- at this point almost guaranteed- arrival of the third failure, there would be some petching retribution.

At this point Ros realized the boy was likely not on this side of the docks. He looked off toward the docked ship that split the shipyards in two and realized he may well be searching in the wrong area. Moving quickly, he rushed toward the ship, hoping that his gut wasn't leading him the wrong way. Upon reaching the vessel itself, he didn't actually see anyone anywhere near it. This disappointed him greatly, as he was used to his gut leading him in the right direction. But you couldn't win them all, he supposed. Hoping he had just missed something, Roscoe doubled back toward the entrance they had used, redoubling his efforts and being damn sure to check even the places he was convinced couldn't possibly hide anyone this time. With each net moved, with each barrel opened, he became more and more frustrated. He wasn't used to having to deal with shyke like this. That's why they went for simpler targets in lower traffic areas. You didn't expose yourself to things like this in those places- at least, that had been his understanding. To add onto that, he knew it was risky being somewhere like the docks or the shipyard. Places of importance like this were about as far as you could petching get from operating inconspicuously. The last thing they needed was some petching Daggerhands or Sun's Birth coming for their blood because they stepped into their neighborhood.

Fortunately, it was only moments before his hopes returned to him. "Boss ;e Runt's o'er 'ere!" The cry of his oafish friend caused him to spin around quickly and look about for a sign of where the call may have come from. It was a distance away, but he could see the lurking figures of his men converging on the other side of the docks, well into the shipyard area. Out of the corner of his eye he also noticed a group of sailors- they looked like they might possibly be svefran, but he wasn't sure- sitting around at their ship, watching Roscoe with uneasy looks. He hadn't noticed them before, nor did he have time to deal with them now. He simply hoped they would mistake him and his men for members of a more feared gang and just stay out of his way. He didn't need a fight, and quit frankly he wasn't confident they were ready for such. Letting those thoughts slide back into the recesses of his mind, he darted off to meet his men.

He noticed quickly that they were moving right towards him as he made progress closing the distance to the docked ship. As he rounded the corner created by the ship itself, he saw what was going on. The boy had managed to get most of the way up the ladder onto the vessel. Shooting one of his men a mean look, the man began to climb up the ladder himself. He was about a quarter of the way up when the boy climbed onto the boat and gave the ladder a firm kick, sending it falling backwards and putting the man firmly onto his back with a loud thud. It was all Roscoe could do to keep from laughing, and he might not have been able to fight the urge were it not for the boy having his pay day. So he and another henchman grabbed the ladder and re-erected it against the ship.

"You," he spoke to one of the men. "Hold this firm in case he tries that trick again. And you two," He spoke to the other two, one of them still picking himself up off the ground. "Spread out. If he tries to get off the ship, you put a stop to it."

With that, he climbed the ladder, and upon beginning to climb up onto the deck, began to speak, whether he saw the boy or not.

"I have to hand it to you boy, you've lead us on quite the chase. But you're outnumbered, and we have you trapped. Just give up so we can call it a day, eh?"

by **Eleazar Victor Syroin** on August 2nd, 2014, 1:06 pm

Eleazar hadn't noticed that the man clambering up the ladder when he had kicked it away, so the loud thud had really started him. Frozen in fear, the young teen listened in as orders were issued all to clearly each raising his level of internal panic higher than before. Great he was petched. Over the edge of the ship was a nasty drop which would likely break his ankles, if not his neck, if he wasn't careful. But staying still wasn't an exactly option anymore either as the top of the ladder bounced back to where it had been, more securely held than last time no doubt. Oh Shyke! What was he going to do? Well the best course of action was still to put as much pace between whom ever was coming up that ladder and himself.

Jumping to his feet, Eleazar could already hear the steady voice of the groups leader rambling on at him. Hah, liar. 'Call it a day'? Sure, they would call it a day, right after they had dumped his scrawny little body in the gutter having done him in the moment the thief had let his guard down. Somehow that option didn't appeal to him. Eyes darting about the deck, the one booted figure soon located his two 'prizes'. The money was closer but the book was by far the more valuable. A few ticks were wasted as his head shot between the two before spider like limbs flailed their way towards the book.

Quick hands clung to the battered cover, hugging it close to his chest as he backed further away from the figure emerging over the top of the deck. The kid didn't have anywhere to run right now, so he would have to see what happened next. Maybe he would be able to get behind the man once he was up here or kick him over the rail. That could work. Either way Eleazar would have to get his knees to stop shaking first and maybe also stop that horrid feelings of sinking butterflies that came before tears and a runny nose. Shyke, when was the last time he had been as scared as this? Probably not that long ago to be honest, he wasn't exactly a brave kid, just a foolish one. Now full on cowering a good few feet away from the ladder, the kid bite his trembling lip hard as the man finally reached the height of the deck.

by **Avarice** on September 22nd, 2014, 10:10 pm

Succumb to Your Desires
.

Eleazar :

Roscoe :

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Flashback When We Catch a Criminal (Roscoe)