"Careful, Kitty," a too familiar voice called out, too amused to be a sincere warning.
"It's a long way down." But his words rang true.
Standing on the edge of seven-story building in the rain, all it took was one slip and she'd land kersplat on hard concrete street. If her luck was worse, her flattened bodied would suffer the damage of being run over by traffic. Nothing like tire tracks on one's already splattered body to make the damage truly whole. But Cam wouldn't slip and she wouldn't fall, not because she was lucky, but because was skilled and balanced and had this time and time again. There was no fear, no hesitance, and absolute confidence in her abilities.
One shift in her next step, turning on her toes with grace and she was no longer looking down at the busy streets of Black City. She was looking at not simply a familiar face, but a friendly one. And those were scarce for Camillia.
"Tommy," she grinned. With ease, she hopped down from the ledge and offered the far taller man a hug. She tended to be affectionate with the few she did have an attachment to. And her relationship with the man went way back, both belonging to the same street kid group as children. He also happened to be her go-between when it came to hired jobs, which were the only times they met.
"I reckon you've come for this?" Camilla said, pulling back and ... the hood of her hoodie alongside the fast drooping rain had obscured her vision from fully seeing his face. Bruised. Badly bruised. Unfortunately, that sight was not an unfamiliar one to her either. Not when she was well aware of his home situation. Still, she said nothing, removing a small back from her pocket. What it contained ... Well, it wasn't valuable enough for Cam to want to keep it for herself. She tossed the bag over to the man and he caught with a grin.
As per custom, he removed the stolen goods from the bag and looked over it. It was a clock. An old clock, an antique, Camilla presumed. She weighed its valuableness to be a couple of hundreds. She didn't deem it pretty enough to be worth any more than that.
"What sap wanted that?" Cam questioned, tilting her head sideways at the item.
"A rich sap."
That was all she needed to hear, nodding her head understandingly at the answer. The understanding being that most -- if not all -- rich folks were strange and especially the ones that hired thieves to steal for them when they couldn't buy what they wanted themselves. Whether it was generally for sentimental reasons or greedy ones, Cam could have cared less. It was not her business and she only did the job when she was tight on money.
A skilled thief she was, but living in a modern world of a large city, searching for lost parents, the money went almost as soon as it came. That was the reality. One she couldn't deny.
Clearing his voice, Tommy looked back to her with the same grin.
"Great work as always, Kitty. Here," he reached into his pocket and pulled out a wad of perfectly bound cash. It wasn't much, but the job wasn't a big one either. And it was what was split between the two of them. Regardless, Cam felt some disappointment at the small payment.
Her eyes looked away from the money and to Thomas's expectant face.
"Eh, you keep it," she shrugged, smirking at his shocked face.
"Try to get your own place, take care of yourself." She did not wait to hear anything, her words carried enough meaning and by the time he looked back, she was already making her way down the fire escape.
She should have kept the money. Goddamnit.
The milk had spoiled in the fridge and all she wanted was a hot cup of hot chocolate to warm up after being soaked to the bone in rain. Not only was the milk no longer salvageable, but the refrigerator was bare and the cabinets were in need of restocking too. The sight was miserable and prompted a small whine out of Camilla as she slammed the doors shut and hopped down from the countertop -- just the daily activities of a woman hardly reaching the five-foot mark.
So, they were low on food, in desperate need of grocery shopping and her pockets were uncomfortably light. That wasn't very Camilla Cain like at all. She would choose to mope about it after she was warm.
Stripping her soaked clothes from her body, she tossed them into the laundry basket closest to her bedroom door. Being alone, she didn't think twice about stripping in her apartment on her way to her bedroom. Had she not been cold, she would have sufficed with a set of underclothing for a change. Instead, she layered up and sauntered back into the kitchen to make a cup of tea. All there was left was an unopened box of instant tea packets. Some sort of creamy Thai tea ..
"Huh.." She snorted. Who bought that ... Oh, it was her. Which explained why it was in the back, as she completely forgot about it. But the making process was quick and after a single sip, her shoulders relaxed. It was good. She held the hot cup in both hands to warm her cold fingers and sighed.
The rain hadn't lifted since the moment she walked indoors. Stupid weather lady and her dumbass predictions. You would think in the age of magic and technology they wouldn't make such mistakes. Light drizzle her ass. Cam only hoped none of her friends got caught in it, though, they were all working. They would certainly run into it after their hours were over.
Did Dani have an umbrella...? She hoped so. This was the type of weather one could easily catch a cold in.
Money was the biggest issue at hand now. She flipped over her phone ontop of the counter and checked for messages. There were none. Damn, she had really been hoping Lucky was cooking up some sort of scheme for the holidays and wanted her in on it. She wasn't desperate enough to text him for a gig. Or was she ...? Maybe a little, but not enough.
Cam huffed and frowned at her cup. She would have to dig into her stash and pawn them and she really didn't want to do that. She could do it later... Her eyes shifted onto the umbrella by the door. Or she could pawn them now.
Darlin'. A sweet pet name, cuter when said in the charming Southern accent belonging to her friend and roommate. Had it come from anyone else, Camilla may not have been so open to responding to it. Or grin without a beat missed in response. It was a natural reflex at this point. Normally, terms of endearment made her stomach churn, but the ones coming from Dani made her feel light. She was so used it to by now, had she not been called as such she would have felt deprived of something.
"I know, but we can't risk you getting sick. Our apartment will be in turmoil," Cam teased softly, her grin only brightening at the sweet -- quite literally -- the gift of free hot chocolate. He turned around and Camilla leaned in over the counter, or as much as she possibly could. She simply liked to watch the making of hot beverages by the professionals. It was mesmerizing in a way, somehow satisfying. Baristas were artists in their own right.
Camilla hummed gently, not knowing what else to say to his occupation struggles. Being a barista wasn't the highest paying job in the city, least of all in this city. If he'd known more about his personal history, he'd likely qualify for something finer or not..The thought made Cam shift her feet. It was neither here nor there.
The heat of the hot chocolate in her hands gave her a different kind of warmth. Not the same that came in response between sweet interacts and kind gestures with Dani, but a simple one, a comforting one. She removed the top from the cup thoughtlessly and licked the whipped cream with an excited grin. Smooth, creamy, most definitely fattening, she loved it and the widening of said grin attested to that.
Cam didn't consider herself conceited, no, she was a self-assured young werecat and many people read that as arrogance. She carried herself without shame.
"It went well, nothing really worth telling," she shrugged a shoulder as if she was talking about a normal day in the office rather than her illicit affairs. Thieving was the career she was born into. It was everyday life.
"I didn't keep the money, someone else needed it more than me." It sounded odd coming from her. She was throwing far too compassionate these days.
"But no worries, I pawned off a few items today. And I might have a small job with the pawnshop guy," the man was a slimy bastard, but Camilla couldn't turn down a well-paying job when she needed one.
One glance at the glass walls at the entrance told her the pouring rain would make that job a difficult one. And if it stormed.. Cam stiffened. She didn't want to think about that.
