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From the moment that Charlie had spoke and had some time with her sire (the man she called her sire - despite him not being the one one to bring her into the fold), She had begun to feel better, perhaps it was just being around some with the same thoughts, the same outlook, just someone that was the same in many ways, had brought her back from the brink of hermitage. And because of that, she knew she had to drag herself away from her place, she knew that she had to come out of the matrix and go offline (no that she actually could with that lovely power she had acquired, but close enough) and actually do something. And that something of choice tonight? Thieving.

It was something that she had never been into when she was human, but it seemed with the powers she was getting, the talents she was picking up, it made being a thief just so easy. Like breathing - which she still did as habit. As she passed people, her hand would slide in and out and they would never even feel as she pulled all sorts of things from pockets. From gaming consoles, and money, video cameras, bracelets, necklaces, wallets galore. For her though, the best thing, was breaking into one of those tall buildings with multiple floors to raid and steal things in. And she had managed to come upon one of those.

The first time in had been a bit of a trial run she called it, but the second time she went in it had become ease. Listening for the guards, looking to knock out the computers the 'old fashioned' way before she would break down and use one of her many gadgets that would get her from point A to point B to point C and so on. This building seemed to be big on the corporate information. It was one of the things that she liked to find out, and with photographic memory, she didn't need to hold onto something long so she could always sell the information as well. She slipped into the always right in front of the door, knowing that she could hide in the shadows from the guards that were walking her way.

She glanced over and noticed the door, and unable to stop herself, she cracked the lock and when that door opened she saw the lovely necklace that was sitting there waiting for her. It was then that she heard the voices of the guards. They had heard the door unlock. She threw down one of the smoke bombs, grabbed the necklace and was quick to get out of the building as well as away from the block the building was on. Or at least to escape into the shadows. She just hoped that two fellow thieves she knew were also in the building would get away as well.

Charlie pressed herself against the wall, her clothes (a black leather jacket over a black tank top, black pants and her black high-heeled boots with studs on them) made her blend into the shadows, despite her pale skin that would normally seem to glow in the moonlight. That was another thing in her favor, there was no moon tonight, or if it was, it was hidden by the clouds. She looked up at the cloudy sky and gave a soft laugh once she knew she was safe, running a hand through her hair and then shaking out the long chestnut locks.

((Charlie's outfit))

Business was business. It didn’t matter how it was wrapped up, whether it was a dodgy backstreet transaction, a glitzy showroom exchange, or a simple click of a few keys on a website, the fundamentals of business were always the same. It was basically a trade: something that you want in exchange for something that I want. Business, trading, bartering, call it whatever you like, had been a cornerstone of civilization since time began. Farmers exchanged their apples and carrots for tools skilfully created by craftsmen. The farmers then cultivated the land to a higher standard and grew better crops, while the crafters ate an enriched diet so that they had the energy to produce superior equipment. Both sides benefited and the community grew in strength. Throughout the centuries, nothing much really changed, just the items that were involved. Commerce grew and grew, big corporations developed, stretching out their tendrils across the globe to trade with the far corners of the earth. Was there really any difference between the likes of Marco Polo travelling across Asia, trading with the merchants of China to bring new spices and elaborate silks to Europe, and the likes of Apple or Ford trying to sell phones and cars across the planet?

Business had simply developed, moved with the times and evolved to fit in with changing lifestyles. It was, however, essentially the same. Items were usually not traded with other items any more, but with money instead. Effectively the currency had changed from bags of wheat or rice, to minted coins, and now to plastic cards, but the principle was the same.

Business could be “clean”, all above board and legitimate, but it could also be murky with under the table dealings. Someone wants to watch the latest shows or blockbuster movies so he goes to the shop to buy a TV with his hard earned cash that he received from working as a cab driver, transporting businessmen to their next big meeting, or lustful couples back home from a romantic meal out in a fancy restaurant to a hotel room. The cab driver is simply providing a service that somebody else needs. The businessman in his cab is possibly heading to his meeting to secure a huge deal to supply a hotel chain with toiletries. The hotel chain needs the shampoos and shower gels to cater for the horny couple that is having a dirty weekend away behind the backs of their respective wife and husband. The male member of the cheating couple has spent hundreds on Champagne and the expensive hotel room in the hope that he will receive a night of blissful passion in exchange for his efforts. The cheating female was disappointed with the “service” that she was receiving from her husband, who was too busy away from home at business meetings selling toiletries to hotel chains, so invested in sexy lingerie with a view to making herself more desirable. Trades, deals, purchases… all business transactions of one sort or another, each with a goal in mind.

Back in the “real” world, Grant Stonehouse had been a legitimate businessman, working for a large corporation. Since winding up in Harper Rock, his circumstances had drastically been altered, but he still had his old business brain buried inside his toughened vampire skull. In order to survive in this strange new world in which he had wound up, Stonehouse needed to modify the knowledge that he possessed, and adapt his attributes to his new surroundings. The entrepreneur needed a plan, one that raised cash so that he could make a clean start and get himself back up on his feet. His fresh business model was effectively nothing new, just altered slightly from ones that he’d worked with before: find something that people need and provide them with it. The phrase “smell what sells” sprung to mind. In other words, do some research and uncover what was the flavour of the month. What were the must have items. The next part was, in principle, fairly straightforward. Get the items at a cheap price, and then sell them for a more expensive price. Profit was king. What was the cheapest possible price? Free, of course!

Stonehouse was no criminal, no expert bank robber or stealthy shoplifter, but needs must, and he certainly needed something to sell, something with which to trade. There were enough shady merchants lurking in dark allies willing to accept stolen goods without asking any difficult or incriminating questions, so breaking and entering buildings to plunder the treasure stored inside had become Stonehouse’s most recent business venture. He was methodical, carefully planning which building to target next. Moving around the various districts in Harper Rock would hopefully keep the cops on their toes, as they wouldn’t know where he’d strike next. He’d never hit the same building twice in a week, and would vary the type of establishment in an attempt to leave no obvious trail. One night it would be an office block, the next night a warehouse, mixing toys with tools to throw the police off the scent. Stonehouse’s next raid was to be on one of the tall office blocks. He felt strangely at home wandering around the corporate scenery of desks, spinning chairs, and meeting rooms, as it reminded him of his former life. However, his latest plan wasn’t going to work out exactly as he had envisaged.

Peering out of the sewer exit tunnel like a shy mole pooping out of its hole, Stonehouse scanned the tower that was to be burgled. It was a particularly dark night, with a pale moon lost among a sea of thick cloud. Perfect! Less light to illuminate him as he dashed for cover in around ten minutes time, with arms fully laden with loot. For a split second, something caught his eye and Stonehouse thought that he saw someone racing around the corner across the street. The shadowy stranger was almost impossible to make out, as they were dressed from head to toe in black, like some kind of urban ninja. Hawk-like eyes tried to follow the slender figure as it turned a corner before stopping. They were too far away for Stonehouse to be sure, but the physique of the runner appeared to be that of a woman. There was a shake of a head, allowing a cascade of hair to appear, leading Stonehouse to believe that the mysterious person was indeed a woman. But what was she doing? Suddenly an alarm began to ring from the office block, and several lights burst into light through the windows. Stonehouse contorted his face and stared at the woman in black. Had she just burgled his tower and stolen his booty, effectively throwing his plans down the drain? Curiosity may have killed the cat, but Stonehouse was no cat and he was incredible curious to discover the identity of the urban ninja. He knew that he had to follow her. Forget the goodies that lay waiting to be stolen in the other buildings, she was now the prize.

Charlie turned her head towards the sounds of the alarms, she knew that HRPD would be coming around the corner soon enough, so with a sigh, she lifted the hoodie that was attached to her jacket up, covering herself once more, looking as if she were just trying to fight off the cold night as she pushed away from the building, her head lowered, bits of her hair flowing out from the hood. Her chocolate eyes still watched the streets, should she see that the cops, their amber and blue lights dancing back and forth as they closed in. She could hear the sirens blaring. And for a moment she was beginning to think that she would have to duck in to another dark alley somewhere and tome back to the Den.

And with her breath held ever so slightly, she stopped and watched, and then her breath came out in a rush as the cops blew past her, clearly they didn't believe her to be the assailant that they were hunting. It was a good thing for her. She lifted her gaze a bit more and smirked as she watched the cops heading for the building, even from this distance, she could hear the alarms going on still. Her little raid on the building had been a tricky one, but one that had paid off. Granted, she had one of these pendents that she found already, and it was one that had paid off big time, so she was likely just to sell it in auction and see what price she could get for it.

She lifted the necklace out of its hiding spot in her pocket and smirked at it. The way the street light glittered off of it. It was definitely one that she had already, same pendent as the one that rested against her chest, same chain as the one currently around her neck. What it did she didn't quite know, but ever since she had found the first one, her luck seemed to be on her side, the buildings she thought would be crawling with guards didn't have nearly as many as she thought. Charlie slipped the pendent back into her pocket and then rested her arm over the messenger bag she had that was filled with the loot she pulled from the building as well.

With a sigh, she pushed her hood back down and reached with her free hand to pull her hair off her one shoulder, her head tilted slightly as she did. She almost looked like a wolf baring its neck to its alpha. However, she only played underling to Elliot and Pi, and she never felt that way with either of them because both of them made her feel like she was theirs despite not being of blood. At heart she was d'Artois. Charlie licked her lips and lifted her head, chin held high because the family she was part of (despite one or two she would rather see SRed forever) made her proud to be a part of them, because they seemed to be proud of her.

A smile danced across her face, and as she walked, she was already online, checking out the Auction to see what was selling and for what prices, and listing lots of things that she had in her possession now but did not need. Like a certain necklace.

Stonehouse remained motionless except for his eyes, like a sniper tracking his target from the bunker that was the sewer tunnel exit. Those attentive eyes widened as the urban ninja pulled some kind of necklace out of her pocket. It sparkled like a thousand stars under the glow of the streetlight as the woman examined its beauty before slipping it back inside her jacket. A look of frustration spread across Stonehouse’s face. He’d burgled a dozen or so buildings almost identical to the one from which the female thief had just emerged, but he’d never managed to swipe a fancy piece of jewellery like that. A few items of random office stationary and the occasional laptop if he was lucky, was about the sum of his loot. Stonehouse scratched his head, dwelling upon the fact that he may have just missed out on a golden bounty. He also wondered who the woman was, and how she had managed to pilfer such an expensive looking item. Either she was some kind of master thief, or she had some insider information about where to find such items. A final question drifted through Stonehouse’s mildly annoyed mind as his focussed eyes continued to follow the shadowy cat burglar: who was still inside the building to have triggered the alarms?

That was probably a question to be answered on another day. Right now he needed to find out more about the mysterious woman dressed in back, and hanging around in the sewer was not going to be of much assistance to his quest for knowledge. Besides, the place was going to be swarming with more cops soon enough. One squad car had already flown by, so it was almost guaranteed that another would be on its way. Across the street, the athletic looking woman reached inside her jacket pocket and pulled out something that resembled a phone. She began fidgeting with the gadget as she started walking away from the scene of the crime. Stonehouse knew that this was the signal to leave his hiding place and stalk the intriguing woman, as hopefully she would be distracted with her typing. He’d seen enough people wander aimlessly into other pedestrians, even lampposts, while messing around on their mobile phones, to realize that he had a window of opportunity to began tracing her steps. Stonehouse gingerly climbed out of the sewer and dashed towards some parked cars, aiming to use them as cover. He instantly felt like some kind of secret agent on a spying mission, tracking a super villain or deadly assassin. For the next few minutes, at least, Stonehouse was James Bond!

Although he had become adept at hiding in the shadows, and staying out of sight of others, Stonehouse was not necessarily the world’s greatest hunter. Evasion was his forte. The extent of his pursuit skills were pretty much limited to sounding out potential business clients at fancy social gatherings, or chasing attractive woman in nightclubs. He was by no means a boy scout or big game hunter, so he knew that he would have to stay on his toes at all times in order not to spook the leather-clad lady. Stonehouse trailed the thief with his eagle eyes as she turned a corner and headed into a dimly lit back-ally, putting more distance between herself and the cops. A burst of speed sent Stonehouse rushing across the street and to the corner of the alleyway. Peering around the stonework of the building, he saw the woman’s figure fading away into the distance. With a determined expression across his focussed face, Stonehouse slipped around the corner into the silent backstreet and continued his mission.

Charlie continued to walk along the sidewalk, once she had set up her selling price up she switched over to her playlist and thumbed through her music. Then she was playing her music, AC/DC pumping into her ears as she began to almost skip down the street. However, that skip didn't last long because a tone came through, she glanced at her phone and then sighed softly.

Tempy: 'Keep walking, I think you have a tail.'

She didn't stop walking, she kept her stride, humming softly to the music that continued to play despite the ever so often interval of incoming message tones cutting in here and there. She was being tailed, but by who she did not know. As far as she could tell, from the way she was tracking things digitally in her mind, she had not tipped off the police. So the question was, who was tailing her? Well, she would know soon enough.

Tempy: 'You've defineitly picked up a tail. Some dude, doesn't look like a cop.'

As she read that message, she sighed again and then responded to him.

Charlie: 'Keep an eye on him, I'm going to go around this corner, if he follows hang back.'

She then glanced up, slipped her phone into her pocket and started for the alley way, turning the corner, she began to walk towards a clear dead end. Then she glanced around and smirked, with all the buildings and almost all of the windows either boarded up or dark, she was sure that if needed to, she could super jump onto the surrounding buildings and get away, but first, she wanted to know who it was that was following her and why.

Charlie let out a breath and gripped the chain link fence that 'blocked' her way, lowering her head so that she looked as if she were disappointed that she had walked into a 'blind' alley. Now she only needed to stand there like a 'good' little girl and see what happened. Of course, if he attacked her, she could be in trouble. So just in case, her hand closed around the glock that she had hidden inside her jacket, preparing to pull it and fight back if she needed to. She really hoped she didn't need to though.

Grant Stonehouse loved an expensive tailored suit. The feel of the fine fabric on his fingertips; the way that the material followed the contours of his athletic physique; the general air of sophistication that came with being dressed in Hugo Boss or Savile Row's finest; all factors that drew Stonehouse towards his beloved outfits. However, not even the finest suits from the likes of Brioni - using Vanquish II cloth produced by Dormeuil - would cut it down in the sewers. James Bond wore Brioni suits, but in spite of that, the exquisite garments would not make the grade here. Harper Rock was not the elaborate set of a mega-budget movie; it was an urban jungle, full of ruthless killers, criminals, and crazy creatures. Practicality was often a better choice than perfection, and style was frequently trumped by substance. Despite Stonehouse being engaged in his 007-esque spying mission, tonight was such an occasion where sartorial prowess was thrown out of the window.

Stonehouse was wearing a dark green boiler suit with the word "Cooper's" embossed across the chest pocket in golden letters. He'd stolen it from a factory and used it ever since for his burglary raids. He kept reminding himself to pilfer another similar outfit, perhaps a jet-black coloured one so that he could blend into the night like a stealthy chameleon. The thief's costume was completed by a pair of sturdy work boots, which were ideal for trudging around in the sewer tunnels. Stonehouse wasn't interested in making a smart first impression if he encountered any security guards; he was concerned with getting the job done. At this moment in time, the stalking Stonehouse had a greater issue on his inquisitive mind: the mystery woman that he had witnessed fleeing the scene of an assumed robbery.

The female continued to twist and turn her way down dark back-alleys, as if she was trying to navigate a maze. Stonehouse trailed her, maintaining what he hoped was a safe distance so that she wouldn't spot him. Earphones, partially hidden by her flowing hair, were potentially occupying her auditory senses, giving Stonehouse the feeling that she wouldn't hear him. She kept bobbing her head down, fidgeting with her smart phone. Stonehouse wondered if the urban ninja was liaising with a colleague, perhaps an accomplice, or a fence to offload the stolen necklace. He needed to keep his eyes peeled in case the woman was part of a gang, and the other members were about to join the party.

A surprised expression spread across Stonehouse's face as the woman entered what appeared to be a dead end. Had she become lost in the labyrinth of the backstreets? Maybe she was distracted by typing on her phone, and had taken a wrong turn? Her hands messed with the chains that blocked her progress, and her head seemed to slump in disappointment at the realization that she'd messed up. Stonehouse grinned. The cat burglar, dressed all in black, was now effectively trapped, like a caged panther. Maybe Stonehouse's mission was going to be easier than he had expected?

As Stonehouse stared at the woman, sizing her up, he sensed that something wasn't quite right. The female thief had managed to seemingly break into a building and escape, with consummate ease, without attracting the attention of the guards, and had evaded any subsequent attention by sneaking calmly into the backstreets, not to mentioned the fact that she had acquired what looked like very expensive piece of jewellery. Yet she had walked like a sheep into a dead end pen. Stonehouse froze, contemplating his next move. Either the looter had made a basic error and she was mentally beating herself up about it, or she somehow knew that she was being tailed, leading him into a trap. Was she the foolish sheep, or was he the lamb to the slaughter? This game of hare and hounds had suddenly become more interesting. Fortune favours the brave, or so Stonehouse convinced himself as he stepped out of the shadows and advanced, ever so slowly, towards the woman.

Charlie let out a convincing sigh of annoyance as she gave the fence another shake. Then she turned, her eyes wide as if she were shocked to see him there, as if she hadn't expected to be followed, she even let out a slight gasp giving off the appearance that she had been shocked to see that she had been follow. It was something that she had picked up when she became a vampire, a talent of acting, to a point. The better she could act, the more convincing she was to whomever she came across. Normally though, it was cops and security guards she had to convince. So this one, this would be interesting. How often does she gain a tail that is like herself.

Letting the shocked look fade into something close to annoyance or even a hint of hidden fear, she kept her eyes on the guy, her one hand - now hidden behind her back - held one of her guns, ready to pull it and shoot it if need be. However, from what she had seen of her tail thus far, he seemed like he wasn't all that big of a threat to her. But then, she had fallen for that trap before and ended up getting killed and sent to that unbearable place. Using her free hand, she reached up and pulled the earbuds from their place and held onto them, fidgeting with them as she continued to watch the male.

"Do you often follow lone women into a dark alley way?" She asked, using her warmer tone, one that she used on cops and guards, people that she wanted to charm into believing that she meant them no harm. Because in truth, she normally didn't mean them harm... unless they harmed her first.

Stonehouse eased his way closer to the woman, but not so close that she would get too freaked out, and certainly not so close that he couldn’t make a run for it if things suddenly took a turn for the worse. The thief, dressed in black, had somehow managed to lead herself into a dead end, which in itself seemed incredibly strange. Had she really been so distracted by thoughts of the jewellery that she’d just stolen, or the music pumping into her head through the earphones, that she had foolishly walked headlong into a cul-de-sac? Suspicions sped through Stonehouse’s mind like cops chasing criminals in their cars. Red warning lights were flashing inside Stonehouse’s skull as he wondered if he had been guided into the dark backstreet deliberately, lured into a trap like a mouse foraging for cheese.

Stonehouse’s eagle eyes remained fixed on the mysterious woman. He paid particular attention to the arm that continued to be hidden behind her back as if it were hiding something from his view. Could a knife, maybe a gun be concealed from Stonehouse’s prying eyes? There were enough shady characters in this city, and weapons were two-a-penny, so it was no stretch of the imagination to assume that the female cat burglar would be packing weaponry. For his part, Stonehouse was also armed. He always was nowadays; it was essential. Get showered, get dressed, and pick up your firearms and knives - just an average, everyday routine in this crazy city. A naïve Stonehouse had been “caught short” during his early days in Harper Rock, not fully realizing the dangers that potentially lurked around each and every corner. Being unarmed, defenceless, in this city was virtual suicide. If it wasn’t some lumbering zombie or feral vampire trying to rip your limbs off it was a hunter in the sewers. Even the guards in the local factories and office blocks were armed, and one mistake during a botched break-in could be disastrous. Stonehouse no longer took the chance of being blindsided. Having said that, had the careful businessman thrown caution to the wind by following the urban ninja into the dark alleyway, leaving himself exposed?

The woman spoke to Stonehouse, softly, in an unthreatening yet inquisitive voice. Stalking wasn’t his normal pastime, but then again, what was normal any more? A response was needed to her question, and Stonehouse decided that the direct approach was the way forward. “Do you often steal jewellery and wander around in dark alleyways?”

A sly grin crept over Stonehouse’s face as he raised an eyebrow. “You never know exactly who you may encounter in these backstreets. There are all kinds of dodgy folk hiding in the shadows. Is that why you are holding a gun behind your back?”

Of course Stonehouse didn’t really know what the thief was holding in her hidden hand, but he hoped to call her bluff and make her show her hand, literally.

Stonehouse pondered the thief’s responses as he continued to visually weigh her up, his keen eyes looking for giveaway signs or tell-tale gestures. Alleyways had indeed become good friends with Stonehouse as he became accustomed to the ways of Harper Rock. They allowed a swift exit to be made when trouble was brewing, and also provided a pathway out of the limelight when prey needed to be tracked. Slipping into the shadows had almost become second nature to Stonehouse as he acclimatized himself to the city’s murky underworld. Could it be that the woman in black was not too dissimilar to the tall Englishman?

There was one huge difference, though: she had the jewellery and he didn’t. That discrepancy needed to be addressed. Stonehouse watched closely as the dark-haired woman shuffled her hands from behind her back and into her pockets, either sneakily moving something around, or attempting to grab an item. The big question was what? Could it be the glistening prize of the necklace, or something more sinister and dangerous like a pistol?

“Your question?” said Stonehouse, figuring that conversation would be a better option than potentially being shot, “Ah yes, I suppose that I do owe you some kind of explanation as to why I’ve followed you.”

Pausing, tilting his head slightly to the right, then left as if he were making his final judgement before passing sentence on the burglar, Stonehouse smiled, and then continued to speak. “I followed you into this dark, dead-end alleyway where you’d find it very difficult to escape, because you have something that I want.”

Stonehouse knew full well that he hadn’t herded the thief into the cul-de-sac like a stray sheep into a pen, but that it was she who had lead him here like a lamb to his possible slaughter. The leather-clad lady had been in charge, Stonehouse had simply followed, but he needed to flip the situation around on its head and convince her that he was in control.

“Lone women in dimly lit backstreets should be more careful about what they steal,” added Stonehouse with a subtle hint of menace to his voice, “especially when confronted with several armed men.”

Obviously Stonehouse was alone, but as he glanced over his left shoulder, then up to the right as if he were looking at someone on a nearby fire escape, he hoped to fool the female, and bluff his way into making her believe that he had backup.

“The backstreets are often a dangerous place,” said Stonehouse in an informative manner, as if he were delivering some kind of public service announcement, “which is why I prefer to have the company of my crew. Now this can go one of two ways: the easy way, which I strongly recommend; or the hard way, which could get a little bit messy.”

Stonehouse was not an aggressive character, he was no bully, no backstreet intimidator, but he was confident (or stupid) enough to think that he could blag his way through this unfolding scenario. He hoped that his 6’2” frame, enhanced with thick, chunky work-boots, would appear at least slighting daunting, and in some way unnerve his opponent. It was a gamble, one that could result in chaos if it failed, but Stonehouse was prepared to take the risk, after all, it could be most entertaining.

“My friends and I need to reclaim what you stole,” announced Stonehouse in a commanding voice, “so you need to put your hands upon your head where I can see them, and turn to face the fence behind you.”

Stonehouse had no idea how well his deception was going, but he was strangely enjoying it. Rather than being a fellow burglar, he was effectively playing the role of the cop who had just busted the jewel thief.