Elyadre Velding
you can't prove anything
Terminus
To say Elyadre maintained a sense of urgency in just about anything she did would be to spit in the face of any inkling of truth. Some may call it laziness, others, more accurately, would simply acknowledge it as a lack of sense of danger. It served her well in the instances she felt compelled to lift items that might not have been hers to begin with. After all, who would question the individual who wasn't unnerved by confrontation? Surely, it was a clear sign she had nothing to hide rather than that the consequences of getting caught didn't scare her.
The sensation was perhaps a double edged sword. After all, she'd gotten away with it so many times, surely consequences didn't actually apply after all. Either way, it was how she moved with confidence in the undercity of Terminus, pace even after she'd bumped into an unfortunate (and admittedly, rather dashing) fellow. Any awkward fumbling was more from making accidental eye contact, actually seeing the individual rather than keeping them faceless as quick fingers took advantage of bumping into him. "So sorry, I wasn't paying attention." She'd offered in explanation, personable voice being of one who was frequently caught unaware - both the undeniable truth and a fantastic cover.
And she'd continued on her way, thinking nothing more of the interaction. Her plan was to repeat the process one or two more times as the mod struck her and then find somewhere to see what goodies she had uncovered. Rinse, wash, repeat.
To say Elyadre maintained a sense of urgency in just about anything she did would be to spit in the face of any inkling of truth. Some may call it laziness, others, more accurately, would simply acknowledge it as a lack of sense of danger. It served her well in the instances she felt compelled to lift items that might not have been hers to begin with. After all, who would question the individual who wasn't unnerved by confrontation? Surely, it was a clear sign she had nothing to hide rather than that the consequences of getting caught didn't scare her.
The sensation was perhaps a double edged sword. After all, she'd gotten away with it so many times, surely consequences didn't actually apply after all. Either way, it was how she moved with confidence in the undercity of Terminus, pace even after she'd bumped into an unfortunate (and admittedly, rather dashing) fellow. Any awkward fumbling was more from making accidental eye contact, actually seeing the individual rather than keeping them faceless as quick fingers took advantage of bumping into him. "So sorry, I wasn't paying attention." She'd offered in explanation, personable voice being of one who was frequently caught unaware - both the undeniable truth and a fantastic cover.
And she'd continued on her way, thinking nothing more of the interaction. Her plan was to repeat the process one or two more times as the mod struck her and then find somewhere to see what goodies she had uncovered. Rinse, wash, repeat.
