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Alarms? Disabled. Guards? Dispatched. The Enigmatic Gambling Phantom? Uhm… covered in… soot and ash…?
Honestly, taking his newly cleaned ensemble to the cleaners again was the least of Aventurine’s problems. Breaking into the Oak Family Manor after months of trial and error was an opportunity the gambler and his brigade of baddies couldn’t possibly miss.
A small florist by day and a professional swindler by night, Aventurine has now entered the dimly lit master bedroom of the highly revered Gopher Wood. Having heard rumors of the Oak Family’s collective refusal to barter away their precious Songbird Sapphire, the charismatic cheat cooked up a long-winded plan in hopes of snatching it out of their hands.
To the naïve, it was a trinket. To the networked, a symbol of power. The purple-and-blue bird brooch not only held hopes of the future but also secrets of the past. The powerful proclaimed it could purify even the most corrupt of hearts.
High society jewelers believed the fine cut accessory was passed down from Halovian to Halovian, and its stories of living through many a wedding, fire, and flood sparked myth and gossip. Gopher Wood often showcased it at art exhibits and the occasional fancy dinner. He feigned humility every chance the people praised him for his pristine preservation.
He was such a pompous jerk.
Aventurine was never one for fakes and liars. This heist was as much of a chance of revenge as it was taking something dangerous out of the wealthy’s hands.
Sure the rumors regarding the sapphire piqued his interest, but Aventurine would’ve pickpocketed the pretty to begin with. Trinkets like these tempted him as much as the next thief; he loved getting the people talking, too. He crept a touch closer to the safe, his movements coming to a stop when he tripped over a fancy crow statue.
Geez, he could’ve stubbed his toe on that gaudy thing…
“I wonder if the rumors around the brooch’s power have merit to them,” Aventurine mused. “Why else would that geriatric grackle fall in love with funky knick-knacks?”
<“Oh, please,”> A familiar voice remarked from his glasses, < “as if you two aren’t one and the same.”>
His eyes focus onto the grey-haired hologram materializing against his rose-tinted communicator shades. Silver Wolf. Codename: Hacker. A powerhouse Aventurine could rely on, Silver Wolf’s tranquilizing tech and quick moves easily made up for how much heckling she did mid-mission. Was she that bored, or did she lose a game and rage quit in the middle?
Well, it mattered not. Their sass broke the manor’s eerie quiet, at least. “It’s not that I don’t like riches, Hacky-Sack, it’s that I know how to spot the good from the gaudy.”
<“Nah, I think you’d make a good fit for these buffoons.”> He could hear the eyeroll from here. <“That one dinner party you faked was pretty spot on, to say the least.”>
”You would criticize me when you’re not stuffing your face with super juicy beef!”
<“I don’t look gift Trotters in the mouth!”>
“Uh-huh. Just don’t be surprised if your sass leaves you meatless next time, Hacker~.”
<“You always hate when I’m right…> Silver Wolf huffed. <“But for the sake of good food, I’ll say I’m ‘wrong’ this time.”>
Aventurine snickered. Oh, teasing his favorite hacker could be so much fun sometimes.
His shades briefly flicker, a few projections floating in picture-by-picture fashion as they mapped out the manor. Some parts analyzed the safe. Some gave Aventurine a rundown on what traps lay across the room. How lucky he was to have a comrade contact him before he tripped one of them; as much as Silver Wolf loved to tease, she put just as much energy into knocking out everything lethal.
The safe was only a few steps away. No one had learned of their shenanigans yet.
“How’s the situation looking?”
<“Nearly everything’s cracked through. No problems yet.”> Silver Wolf pinged part of a projection to catch his attention. <“All alarms are off, all guards rerouted. It’s Mission Impossible on a budget now since Gopher Wood apparently hates when anyone steps into his room without his presence or permission.”>
That explained the… minimalistic touches to the master bedroom. The lack of hospitality. There was only one door, one window, and one candlelit chandelier in the very center of the room. The safe sat next to what could only be one of the simplest offices Aventurine had ever known to man.
“The safe’s almost done, too?” He asked, sauntering forward.
<“Gimme five to break through all the little traps in this dirty code, and you’ll be in the clear! …no, seriously, who injects malware like this—it’s making my head hurt!”>
Silver Wolf muted herself before Aventurine could acknowledge the progress. A tad rude, but he probably shouldn’t be too offended. That girl had a nasty habit of hot miccing every little opinion and gripe. Her complaining could get real old real fast.
A few more minutes, and Aventurine turned to the various beeping and whirring from the safe’s direction. He watched as the dial spun, the door creaked open, and a tiny black box lingered atop a scattered pile of documents.
Aventurine anticipated a dart or a knife to aim for the kill, but nothing came of it. Strange. Gopher Wood couldn’t have been that lax with the goods, could he? He was meticulous with everything involving Penacony. To leave a priceless artifact simply sitting there with (arguably) mild protection was a bit—
<“Gambler, watch out—!”>
Another two beeps and a plethora of blue and white lasers littered Gopher Wood’s bedside before Aventurine could even lift a foot. Cool, great, yeah, he loved living in the face of danger! He tooootally wanted his new fit ruined before he became fresh meat for the grinder! Totally enjoyed teetering on the precipice of death.
He was thankful it was only lights and lasers. He still wasn’t over the one house he robbed that pinned him to the wall with knives. Silver Wolf’s giggling eventually leaked through their voice chat.
Exasperation was written all over his face. “Stop laughing, Hacker. I could’ve died!”
<“And if you did, your favorite Scholar would’ve lost his bet and paid for my gacha goods for a week!”>
Wow, were these two bored. ”Glad to know one of you is insane while the other has no faith in me.”
Silver Wolf disabled the lasers not long after, returning the room’s lighting to its mostly murky state. Aventurine put one foot where a laser once stood, relief coursing through his veins when his step failed to trip what could’ve been weapons or alarms. No sudden deaths, no imminent dangers. Her ability to home in even while she was joking around would never cease to amaze him.
There weren’t any wiretaps or cameras across the room as far as he or his equipment could see. A few of the Bloodhounds moved, but they were due for a shift change. Aventurine’s footsteps were as soundless as the wind.
His face held nothing but disdain as he baby stepped his way across the luxury carpets.
“I will never understand how hypocritical the Halovians are. They put all this money into things that can splice me in half, then define it as some act of god and make others praise Ena for it… it’s all nuts!”
Silver Wolf scoffed. <“That’s rich coming from you.”>
“No, see, Gopher Wood’s sketchy behavior comes from his not-so-secret desire to subdue Penacony with psalms of the Order. Mine only looks that way because I steal knick-knacks for a living. Completely different.”
<“You act as if the money you give the poor doesn’t control them.”>
“It doesn’t—and I’d never want it to.” Aventurine swiped the prize after double-checking the ins of the safe. “Manipulation is a powerful craft, but using it on the impoverished? What do I have to gain from that?”
His words quieted Silver Wolf; he would’ve assumed she brushed off his train of thought had he not heard her thoughtful humming.
<“I guess Black Widow was right when she said heroes bloomed in mysterious places.”>
Aventurine propped open the box, revealing the brooch in all its beauty. It was as every bit pristine and authentic as the thieves heard it was. The Charmony Dove was a nice touch. In its prototypal stages, Aventurine recalled reading of The Family’s original desire to shape the metal into a pair of wings and add feathers to the edges. They only hadn’t gone through with it because the birds were so sacred to every Halovian regardless of their allegiance. “Overuse” tarnished their sacred reputation.
The reasoning would’ve been respectable if the bird was actually shown more than a handful of times, but what should he expect of an Oak Family’s Sacerdos? They and their lamb-like “kin” were reserved with everything they did. Imperfection begat inferiority. Inferiority meant they were nothing.
Reasoning like that was what warranted the infiltration to begin with. Nothing good came out of “harmonious hands” holding onto a treasure that could severely alter the current state of the world, and the last thing Aventurine wanted was some random guy using it to enslave people. That didn’t make finding a trustworthy buyer any easier to find, though. Politicians were a hard no, and museum curators may not accept it from a thief. Ratio was pretty good with his day-to-day connections…perhaps he could ask him for his insight later.
Aventurine gazed upon the brooch one last time before tucking it away in one of his pant compartments.
“To be wealthy is to be powerful, but being powerful doesn’t mean one’s smart...” He quietly mused. “Everything is in order, Hacker. Is my trusty bike parked outside?”
Silver Wolf didn’t respond. Odd. Was she muted?
“Helloooo? Silver Wolf?” He called out again, his tone a little harsher than usual. “If you’re playing gacha games again, I’m going to make you pay for my next meal!”
Footsteps followed the slamming of a door. Aventurine needn’t look back to know trouble had arrived.
A procession of Bloodhound guards wordlessly infiltrated the room, caging Aventurine in by pointing guns at his face. How campy. While he had a hunch the mission was a tad too easy, but did they really have to go all out on the artillery? He expected a multitude of pistols, but sniper rifles and shotguns, too?
Aventurine stuffed both hands into his pockets, scanning the crowd and counting everyone who entered. One… two… five… seven… No more than ten, but still a daunting amount to take on alone. This old fogey came prepared.
He wouldn’t lie and say he wasn’t nervous. Outside of a few smaller scaled heists, the gambler had actually arrived unarmed.
“Y’know, for the ‘most benevolent’ faction in all of Penacony, the Oak Family sure seems to love threats and violence.”
Static danced against Aventurine’s shades, various security alerts projecting and converging into a Gopher Wood with a wry smile.
<“Violence is only necessary when one has the audacity to storm into my abode uninvited.”>
Gopher Wood’s cool cadence left a bad taste in the gambler’s mouth. His good tidings couldn’t distract Aventurine from the sniper’s laser sight aimed at his forehead.
“Look, I know I waltzed in here willy-nilly but, uh… aren’t snipers a touch much?” Aventurine nodded towards the guards. “Pistols, fine. Batons, standard fare, but snipers?”
Gopher Wood merely chuckled. <“Desperate times call for desperate measures. I cannot allow the Songbird Sapphire can’t fall into the hands of simply anybody.”>
“As if keeping it in the hands of the elite is any better!”
One guard tried to club him with their handgun. Aventurine ducked and kicked it straight into the palm of his free hand. He pointed the barrel back at the attacker in question, the threat stirring panic and pause into the others surrounding him. To no surprise, Gopher Wood was entirely unfazed by it all..
<“Your subtlety is commendable, but I’d be careful if I were you.”> Gopher Wood remarked. <“We do not have to fight like this, thief. Our desires for humanity aren’t so different.”>
“Right.” Aventurine scoffed. “Like I can trust the guy arming a cult with guns—”
A sniper’s bullet whizzed through the air. The metal barely missed his cheek.
<“If you value your life as much as you value your gems, you’ll avoid insulting our savior and relinquish that brooch.”>
Aventurine’s thoughts ran a mile a minute. Time was ticking, death was knocking. Silver Wolf hadn’t reconnected, and he was running out of options. The gun could only do so much before one wrong move booked his ticket to Deadville. Clammy finger pads fiddled with the brooch box’s velvet. What was he supposed to do? It’s not like he could just switch it up and call it a day!
…unless–
Inspiration hit when his knuckle grazed against one of his many modded dice. Right behind the box: his favorite coins. Right, the team had told him to pack these. Aventurine wasn’t much of a bomb guy—he only used them to block off routes—but at this point, he didn’t really have a choice, huh? Losing the brooch now meant he’d lose it forever.
While the iron was hot, Aventurine fumbled with the trinkets in his pocket. He carefully showed it to Gopher Wood and the guards, watching as the Halovian peered at it with a broad smile.
He tossed the box to the Bloodhounds’ feet. The second they lowered their guns, Aventurine took aim and fired at the box.
Better luck next time.
One shot, two shots, reload, three. Frantic beeping seeped through the tense quiet before clouds of smoke engulfed the room. He watched silhouettes barrel over as everyone quickly fell into coughing fits; he refused to give Gopher Wood the luxury of a dignified response.
Without hesitation, Aventurine chucked his glasses across the room, bonked a particularly clumsy guard on the head, and made a break for the door. Somewhere in his escape, he swore he heard Gopher Wood screech.
His pathing was purely run on adrenaline–he descended helical stairs by its grindrail, and smashed through the closest window on the wall. The night’s fog veiled his tumble into the grass as the shrubbery broke his fall. It wasn’t until his body was entirely eclipsed by a few trees that he took the moment to laugh off the adrenaline. His muscles relaxed and his sharp laughs made his throat hoarse.
None of that was calculated. None of that should have worked.
The brooch now sat at the very bottom of his pocket; he had swapped it out prior to all the gunfire. The Family would realize his tricks before long, but Gopher Wood wouldn’t be able to do much about it. The paparazzi would crowd around his house, and one of them was bound to learn he lost the relic. His haters would have fodder to sew seeds of discourse for a long while.
Aventurine laid low for a time before he rose from the grass and stretched like a cat to pop his back.
“This was way messier than it should’ve been,” he grumbled. “At least we’re halfway done, though. The second I’m back in town, I can call Hacker… I wonder if she’ll actually pick up the phone. Whenever she’s having a fit, she never answers…and as much as I wouldn’t care, I kinda need someone to take me home.”