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Can you hear the magpie?
IP: 24.34.193.115
Posted on September 15, 2013 at 11:15:14 AM by Alistair

It had been with much squirming and protesting that he had escaped from the clutches of the healers. Alistair had never actually had women treating him and since it had been women he had not been comfortable and fidgeted quite a bit. Their medical techniques were much more advanced and nicer than those he was accustomed to. Too nice, almost. Everything was so perfect and pristine. He didn't belong there. A too white bandage stood out against his tanned skin, hurting his eyes to look at. A few of the healers had offered to rid him of the pain and scars, both inside and out, but Alistair had refused. It would be a good reminder of stupidity and gave him motivation. It had taken a while for him to convince the women that he wouldn't need the help, but after a time they gave up trying to change his mind. His shoulder was forever a reminder to not give up. If he gave up, everything would feel hopeless and pointless and that caused pain. So much pain. The boy couldn't hear to go through it again. By the time he'd finished explaining to the healers, a good majority of them had glazed over looks in their eyes or confusion plastered over their face so he just gave up. A heated arguement insued that it be didn't want to be completely healed than he'd have to have a bandage to hold it stiff. Eventually Alistair had been badgered into submission and consented to that and no more. One of the physicians had suggested he stay to rest, but that was where the teen drew the line. It was the middle of the day and he was in a castle full of strange people who wanted to keep him in an infirmary for "observation." a few nurses attempted to force him onto a cot and flailing and squirming followed. The only thing anyone observed after that was a tall boy running away as fast as he could.

The castle itself was like the Maze. Not neccsarily in size, but more so in the way one could quite easily get lost if one was unfamiliar with it. Alistair lost track of all the turns he took and the numerous hallways he'd run through. At last the boy stopped to breath. He highly doubted that anyone had come after him. H wasn't worth their time. People had better things to do than chase after a stubborn seventeen year old that no one even knew. Later, someone would probably complain that there was a pest strolling around the palace, but until that happened the pest had free reign. Besides, he just wanted to do some exploring. And maybe some stealing. But only little things that no one would miss. A misplaced brooch, gathering dust in some forgotten drawer. A lost cloak clasp that had long since been replaced, and maybe if he was lucky, and knife or dagger of some sort, left laying around to take. Things that were unimportant. Things people wouldn't mind being taken. And even if they did, "finders keepers, losers weepers." Alistair never took big or significant. He wasn't that greedy or stupid. He managed to keep his kleptomania under control most of the time. Though, when ever he would walk by something that shone, it caught his eye and taunted him. More often than not he was drawn to the shiny object, earning him the nickname Magpie. It was not one he liked and you had to be very, very close friends with him to be able to call him that without earning a slap.

It was for this reason that the raven haired boy stood before the armoury. The swords that neatly lined the walls; the armour scattered around the room, gleaming in the light. His fingers twitched. He could do this. He could walk past without taking anything. It was all in his head. But it was so pretty, so easy to take. There were so many weapons, surely one or two wouldn't be missed. The price of theivery lay heavily on the boy's mind. He ran the risk of being caught and even for someone who lived here it was undoubtedly bad to be caught. Alistair didn't even want to think about the punishment for an outsider. 'Deep breaths. You can do this.' Alistair breathed out. He was not going to fall to temptation today. Some other day he would though. Just... Not now when he was vulnerable. Long legs prepared to step forward when the commotion reached his ears. The scot turned away from the armoury, facing the hall in the opposite direction. A woman's scream had caught his attention. The teen's eyebrow raised. What on earth was going on there? A faint "sorry" echoed down the hall. It was probably just an accident. Someone had bumped into the woman, that was all. Nothing was wrong. Alistair assumed he was just on edge about being mistaken for a spy sneaking around the castle or something. Before he had a chance to continue down the hall, a figure came sprinting towards him, guards a few paces behind. Another thief? Too late did Alistair realize the boy was coming straight for him. He attempted to move but too slow too late and the boy barreled into him with everything he had, sending him flying across the room into a pile of armour with a crash. A cry escaped Alistair as his right scapula smashed into the hard metal an he sat, slightly dazed, in the heap. The boy gave him a grin before slamming the door and bolting it. The key creaked in the lock before it clicked, shutting the boys in. The kid was a few years younger, about the same age as the boy from earlier, perhaps a year or two older. His dress was much finer and cleaner than Alistair's own, which looked like rags compared to this fellow's. He was clearly someone of importance and high social standing. Or he just had lots of money. Emerald eyes gleamed as the boy introduced himself. "Tristan." he said as he extended his hand. Finally, someone with manners. Alistair blew a bit of hair that had fallen over his green eye up before reaching to take Tristan's hand. Even though he was ambidextrous, he had always been more inclined to use his right hand and he did so now, reaching only half way before his shoulder throbbed. Wincing, the arm retracted and Alistair offered the left hand instead. "Alistair." he replied with a smile.

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