• •That's Where It's At

[Coty Adelaide Cosette Hale]

There was nothing quite like New York at any time of the year but especially when the cool, wet, white snow covered the ground. There were obvious pros and cons to the colder weather, of course, but Hale took things like that in stride. She couldn’t exactly do her parkour training outside but she’d found a gym that had space for that particular activity and welcomed all levels for it. When the snow started to stick to the ground, Hale headed indoors for those particular exercises. But she would always pick jogging outdoors on a path over staying stationary on a treadmill any damn day of the week. She really didn’t understand how people could use those stupid machines. They looked like hamsters on a wheel, running and running and getting absolutely nowhere. If she was moving like that, she wanted to go somewhere, she didn’t want point B to be point A.

So Hale found herself at the park at least five times a week in her thermal gear through the winter months to keep active. She always felt the need to keep moving, probably the conman in her not wanting to get caught. And three of those days found Hale jogging to the gym to get some parkour training in. Hale loved the freedom of parkour and in her line of work, her real line of work, it came in handy. If you could scale buildings, exits and entry points were everywhere, one just had to look for them. And Hale was one of the very few who had been trained by the very best in the world to see all the angles. All those militaries and spy groups thought they knew but the Hale family was better. No matter where she went, she cased the place and before she left, Hale always had a plan on how to rob the place and get away clean.

And it was looking like the very long con of stealing herself a new life was coming to an end a hell of a lot quicker than she had wanted. Still, ten years was a very long time, especially for someone like her. Hale knew none of her family thought she could stay away this long. And they were right. She’d been pulling jobs left, right and centre only twenty six months after she’d said she was leaving. Those she had told her uncles and father about but no one else, especially the cousins, who would have wanted in and JP. He already hated her for keeping the “life of crime” a secret and for having a past like that in the first place. She’d broken the image of her that he’d had. But the signs had been there for him to see! She had “reproductions” she had created herself all over her office and home, both of which he’d been to. She picked his pocket every single time they had met up for anything. And not once did he ever ask her how she’d learned that. Hale had given him the signs, he had just chosen to ignore them all. She was so lost in thought about that, about everything she didn’t give herself enough time to get out of the way of someone on a skateboard. She did have enough time to grab the armrest of the bench next to her, swing herself up and over it to land on her feet on the other side of the bench unharmed. Panting, Hale bent at the waist, needing a minute to catch her breath after the impromptu theatrics.

Tag || @open
Words || 623
Clothes || To follow shortly
Music || Dirt Road Communion --Chase Rice
Notes || <3

[tallon clement yves hale]

The morning after pulling a job always left Tallon with a buzz. He had never been able to fall into bed like most of the family and sleep a day away before celebrating a job well done. The priceless ring he had wanted was tucked away where no one would find it, and once the heat had died down in a few weeks from a criminal investigation he would take it back to his collection where it would stay. There was no real reason why he took it other than he had heard the owner boasting about it at a charity gala he had discreetly crashed the week prior. The owner had been a real playboy, raised on daddy’s money and wanted to flash that wealth to everyone who would listen. He had left with two women on his arm, but Tallon had left with an idea in mind and his wallet in his jacket pocket. From there he had gone on to plan everything and it had been one of the simpler jobs he had pulled in recent months. Rich kids never really thought about the safety of the things they were boasting about. The safe had been an old model that a monkey could probably have broken into, and the rich man child partied so hard and so often he usually forgot he had an alarm system. The night Tallon went in that hadn’t been the case, but it was still an old model that took seconds to disarm. The whole thing had been a joke for a man of his skillset, but the ring was worth it. He wished he could be there when the kid realised he had lost something with such value, but he had a feeling that by the time that happened the shiny heirloom would be somewhere only he would ever find it.

Tallon didn’t walk anywhere specific. He just walked. He needed to blow off the buzz that was coursing through his body. He wouldn’t be able to sit still until it was gone, and sleep was definitely out of the question. It wasn’t a job to be proud of, but it still gave him a small thrill. He hadn’t made his life by robbing stupid rich kids. However, the family of this rich kid were more than any other. Their bloodline was littered with plenty of big names and famous stories. He could probably do a quick internet search and find that ring sitting on someone’s finger back at the start of the eighteen hundreds, where a story began, but he doubted that was where the ring first came into the picture. It was a shame that it had ended up in the safe of a kid who didn’t even know what he was holding. That was why Tallon had to take it. He couldn’t stand to see beautiful things in the hands of those who couldn’t appreciate them. It was such a waste.

He turned into Central Park and kept his hands in his pockets. He exhaled and watched his breath form before him, dancing away in wisps with the cold morning air. After pulling jobs all over the world he was comfortable in any season or weather, but Tallon preferred Fiji best. It was, after all, the place he had chosen to make his ‘home’ if he could really call it that. Like everything else he let people see, it was another layer of his mask. It looked nice, it had all the charm he had, but it was another front. To those in cities Fiji was his summer home, and to those on the island he simply didn’t like the noise and fuss that came with living where he did business. Tallon’s sharp eye made out the familiar face of his cousin from across the way. He knew Hale resided in New York, but he hadn’t reached out to her because, well, he hadn’t needed her. Tallon operated alone these days after what had happened in Brazil. He called on extra help when he needed their favoured skillset and, as far as he knew, Hale was out of the game for the most part. He respected that choice, even if it was one he doubted he’d ever make. He kept his distance, but moved over as he spied the skateboarder coming closer to the blonde. He didn’t call out a warning or move any quicker, but just observed. When he was close enough, he spoke up. “Pas aussi nette que vous avez utilisé pour être , Hale.”

• • •

TAGGED! Coty Adelaide Cosette Hale
WORDS! 761!
OUTFIT! Smart Dressed Man!
LYRICS! Untitled - - - Jed Baronia
NOTES! <3

[Coty Adelaide Cosette Hale]

Hale wasn't as put of shape as she let people think she was. Sometimes it was just easier to let people's perception of her be all they saw. It usually worked in her favour since she walked through her apartment door too often with a handful of wallets tossed on the side table. She never played the good Samaritan with them afterward and why would she? She was hardly a good person at the end of it all. The only things not insured or covered, or able to be replaced was the cash and any photographs buried inside. Hale couldn't even tell anyone who asked what was in the wallets, she had yet to look inside unless she picked the pocket of JP or of someone she specifically targeted for a job; like when she needed a security card and the idiot kept it in their wallet and not in a lanyard like a normal person. She had to admit, it was a hell of a lot easier, though not nearly as fun, to pick a pocket. She'd been pulling those stunts since she was old enough to slip through crowds unnoticed.

Her mind was working overtime, trying to figure out how to plan her next secret job, plan her next assignment for her class and figure out when she would make her escape should she need to take one. Her life seemed to be crumbling down all around her and it was just a damn good thing that the school's information on her wasn't as accurate as they thought it was. She might have been trying to steal herself a new life but she wasn't stupid, she knew what she was about. And she knew to never use her real name for any paperwork. There were plenty of aliases out there with her face attached to them. And if she burned one, so be it; it was only too easy for her to create herself a new persona. When her uncle couldn't do it, she did it for the family, even now. Forgeries came too easily to Hale and it had been a ridiculous idea that she would ever truly give it up.

Normally she was so on top of her game, she wouldn't have even been on the same side as that stupid child, wasn't worth it, but with her mind running in a hundred different directions, she was a bit slow on the take. At least she still made it out of the way in time, and the look on her was just to make it seem like she was shocked, concerned and a bit out of breathe though she was none of those things. Maybe a little annoyed that she'd grabbed the bench wrong and nearly twisted her wrist but other than that, she was fine. It was all a show she enjoyed putting on. She knew Tallon was there before he spoke, whether it was her keen sense or family knowing family was nearby, she didn't know and she didn't care. "Qui me prenez-vous pour, une marque?" She asked as she straightened up and flashed her signature smile her cousin's way and tossed a wallet at him.

Tag || tallon clement yves hale
Words || 531
Clothes || To follow shortly
Music || Dirt Road Communion --Chase Rice
Notes || <3

[tallon clement yves hale]

The simple tricks bored Tallon. It had been why he’d distanced himself in the first place. Seeing great minds resort to petty crime had turned his stomach and he refused to be like them. His father had tried to explain why they had to go quiet, vanish underground until the heat had entirely gone, but Tallon wouldn’t hear it. They were greater than that. They didn’t need to survive on pickpocketing and targeting vacation homes. He had refused to stand by and be a part of that, and now he didn’t regret leaving when he did. He had secrets across the globe, treasures stashed where no one would look for them. A few he knew hadn’t even been reported as stolen, though he couldn’t know for certain why. Maybe the shame of losing something that was priceless, or maybe because it shouldn’t have been theirs to begin with. He got a high from taking something from a fellow thief, knowing he was better than they were. Tallon took risks he knew the family would never have approved of if he went to them first, but that was the boon of running jobs alone, bringing in those necessary to do just what he needed them to do. He gave them their cut in cash or whatever they wanted, but sometimes they didn’t know the full take. Yes, it’s just this jewellery box…because I smuggled the doubloons out earlier.

It was every man for himself. Tallon still loved his family, and if they called he would answer. They taught him what he knew, but he had seen them fall. They had been marred in his eyes for that. Going at it alone had been his only way forward. He planned to take America now, and was slowly crossing the jobs off his list one at a time. He’d leave some breathing room for a while now, maybe just enjoy the scenery – and the women – that the country had to offer. Tallon didn’t do serious relationships, but he enjoyed company in his bed. He was silver-tongued and had little trouble charming the women. Occasionally the men had a problem with it should Tallon take an interest in their girlfriends, but a fistfight was just another thing to get the blood pumping, the adrenaline racing. Tallon could look after himself. If he couldn’t then he wouldn’t have made it this far in his life.

Tallon’s sharp reflexes allowed him to catch the tossed wallet with ease. You didn’t get sloppy as long as you were in the game. It was the difference between life and death, or freedom and a prison term. He flipped the wallet in his hands, glancing down at it before slipping it into his pocket. “Parlour tricks.” He said in English, with a smooth, flawless New York accent. He could do several variations of the American accent, and then about a dozen more global accents to suit his needs. French might have been his native tongue, but appearances mattered when it came to the con.

• • •

TAGGED! Coty Adelaide Cosette Hale
WORDS! 507!
OUTFIT! Smart Dressed Man!
LYRICS! Untitled - - - Jed Baronia
NOTES! <3

[Coty Adelaide Cosette Hale]

Hale had done many things in her short time on Earth. Most of which involved detailed or specific lies meant to create a persona that would get one member or all of the crew past security; if there even was any. She should have played a more behind the scenes role but Hale was good at deception, just like the rest of the family. She loved making people believe she was something else, someone else. She felt that thrill go through her at being someone she wasn't. In another life, maybe she would have become an actress, dazzled the world with her skills and abilities. But then she wouldn't have been a Hale. She would have been some Susie Shumaker with a boring as hell life and equally dull friends. Sure the videos on the internet all appeared like these celebrities lived amazing lives, always off travelling the world but they were sitting on boats and beaches, swimming with dolphins and drinking Mai Tai's poolside.

Hale had done all those things before the incident and she'd done them all with the added bonus of stealing her way through the world as well. She was more than a thief but that would have been the title if the law ever knew about it. "Maybe but parlour tricks in my city is better than knocking off Javier DeCotas and bringing Ricky with you. You know he runs his tongue." She told him with a shake of her head, disappointed in her cousin. The family had been warned off most outside help, mostly because they were all idiots or had loose tongues and enjoyed telling the tales of their exploits. After what they all called "the incident" happened, outside help for anyone who wanted to continue in the life was just what they'd needed to do. But much like everyone else, Hale was getting bored. She'd never stopped, despite swearing up and down to the one man outside the life that she had. She had lied about just about everything else, she could add one more and not feel guilty about it.

Her entire life, her whole existence was based on perfectly detailed lies. "Besides which," she started after a second or two of the quiet. "La sécurité de Javier est une blague. Un débutant pourrait le gérer." She could do a dozen different accents as smoothly as anyone else in her family but when it came to these sorts of conversations, she preferred her native tongue. There were not many around who spoke it and the ones that did and overheard apparently assumed she was a writer in film. Hale thought they were all idiots, overhearing something like that and just assuming the best. But that was why her job worked so well. People just assumed the best in others, even when they said they didn't because thinking the conversation they're overhearing about a couple of attractive people robbing some unknown name is a plot to a movie, or might one day be was easier than thinking they're actually planning to rob someone in broad daylight. Those kinds of conversations happened behind closed doors or during clandestine meetings in seedy back alley bars at midnight.

Tag || tallon clement yves hale
Words || 533
Clothes || To follow shortly
Music || Dirt Road Communion --Chase Rice
Notes || <3