[After snooping around a little, Bela hadn't yielded much information about where she was or how she could leave. Normally, she was quite good at getting people to talk-either through charm or threats but Bela came up empty today. There was no one else around and all she could remember was a train journey, fog and then the station.
She tapped at the pocketwatch she held in her hand and the object sprung to life, much to Bela's surprise. She thought it was broken; it wasn't like any other watch she had seen because it had a screen. It reminded Bela of something from a spy film..curiouser and curiouser...]
Well, isn't this a treat? Stuck in some unknown place with no familiar landmarks and only a bloody pocketwatch for my trouble. Not exactly a welcome gift I expected to receive.
[After fiddling with the watch, Bela manages to switch the feed from audio to video. She's a striking young woman with long, light brown hair and piercing green eyes. From her accent, one can tell that she was born and bred in England, her words pronounced and crisp. It's safe to say that she's displeased with the situation, judging by her annoyed expression.]
I'm beginning to wonder if there is anyone actually here but if my kidnapper is out there, please step forward. If it's money you want, I can provide that. I'll be on my best behaviour. No tricks. Just business.
[The feed times out and Bela is left wondering if anyone is going to respond because she's doubtful. What she does know is that she doesn't want to stay here.]
Third Person:
The French diplomat's gaze was too fixated on her chest to notice Bela's hand slipping into his pocket to retrieve the key card she needed to get into the vault and retrieve the cursed dagger she was after. The item itself was worth about two million dollars ( five million if you sold it on the black market) and Bela already had a client lined up to buy it. Everything had gone to plan so far and it seemed that this was going to be an easy job. When it was over, she was going to leave the diplomat's home, catch the next flight back to America and hand deliver the dagger to the buyer.
A simple case of get it, then get out.
Choosing a life of crime wasn't the path that Bela had set herself on when she was younger. If anything, she didn't have any real ambition beyond surviving the hell that her parents had put her through ever since she was a child. Her father was abusive and her mother chose to ignore it, deciding that drinking herself into a stupor was a far better use of her time rather than protecting her own daughter. When the opportunity presented itself to end the suffering, Bela seized it and her parents were gone, despite Bela not fully understanding the implications of the deal she made until much later. That was her first encounter with the world of the supernatural and it had piqued Bela's interest from then on.
She began researching not long after that, finding out everything she could about demons, ghosts and whatever else existed in her world. Bela soon discovered the lore about supernatural items: some of them were ancient and cursed, others were more recent but had incredible value. What better way to throw off the shackles of her oppression by doing something spontaneous and profitable like stealing -or acquiring as she liked to call it now- rare items that could earn her a tidy income as well as bringing out a more confident side.
After a few years of research and hands on experience, Bela had learned the tricks of the trade, becoming a master thief and con-artist. Charming her way into people's hearts then robbing them blind. Using her beauty and wit to fool people into trusting her. This was the person that she had become now. A façade yes, but it was something that Bela could hide behind without letting anyone know about the scared little girl who remained underneath.
Bidding farewell to the diplomat, Bela turned on her heel and headed off towards the vault, head held high, her hips sashaying just a little. She had to give off a certain allure after all to convince people of the alias she had undertaken for the job: incredibly flirtatious and a bit of a bad girl. Not a far stretch from her normal persona but Bela was pretending to be an American this time around.
In just a few short hours, Bela would be a few million dollars richer and back in her apartment in New York. Sipping the finest champagne to celebrate her victory. Forget about the deal hanging over her head and enjoy life to the fullest while she was still around to live it. Yes, it was definitely going to be a good couple of days for her when she returned home. Maybe she could share it with someone else, find a handsome stranger in a cocktail bar then take him home and show him a good time. Kick him out the next day and promise to call but never actually go through with it. That was how Bela lived and she wasn't going to change it.
Living like that forced away any negative thoughts or feelings of emptiness. It helped Bela to forget about her anxiety, the fear she felt about dying within a few months.
No. That simply wouldn't do.
Life was for living with no regrets.
It was the motto that Bela had stuck to for quite some time.
Bela Talbot | Supernatural (reserved) 2/2 (done)
[After snooping around a little, Bela hadn't yielded much information about where she was or how she could leave. Normally, she was quite good at getting people to talk-either through charm or threats but Bela came up empty today. There was no one else around and all she could remember was a train journey, fog and then the station.
She tapped at the pocketwatch she held in her hand and the object sprung to life, much to Bela's surprise. She thought it was broken; it wasn't like any other watch she had seen because it had a screen. It reminded Bela of something from a spy film..curiouser and curiouser...]
Well, isn't this a treat? Stuck in some unknown place with no familiar landmarks and only a bloody pocketwatch for my trouble. Not exactly a welcome gift I expected to receive.
[After fiddling with the watch, Bela manages to switch the feed from audio to video. She's a striking young woman with long, light brown hair and piercing green eyes. From her accent, one can tell that she was born and bred in England, her words pronounced and crisp. It's safe to say that she's displeased with the situation, judging by her annoyed expression.]
I'm beginning to wonder if there is anyone actually here but if my kidnapper is out there, please step forward. If it's money you want, I can provide that. I'll be on my best behaviour. No tricks. Just business.
[The feed times out and Bela is left wondering if anyone is going to respond because she's doubtful. What she does know is that she doesn't want to stay here.]
Third Person:
The French diplomat's gaze was too fixated on her chest to notice Bela's hand slipping into his pocket to retrieve the key card she needed to get into the vault and retrieve the cursed dagger she was after. The item itself was worth about two million dollars ( five million if you sold it on the black market) and Bela already had a client lined up to buy it. Everything had gone to plan so far and it seemed that this was going to be an easy job. When it was over, she was going to leave the diplomat's home, catch the next flight back to America and hand deliver the dagger to the buyer.
A simple case of get it, then get out.
Choosing a life of crime wasn't the path that Bela had set herself on when she was younger. If anything, she didn't have any real ambition beyond surviving the hell that her parents had put her through ever since she was a child. Her father was abusive and her mother chose to ignore it, deciding that drinking herself into a stupor was a far better use of her time rather than protecting her own daughter. When the opportunity presented itself to end the suffering, Bela seized it and her parents were gone, despite Bela not fully understanding the implications of the deal she made until much later. That was her first encounter with the world of the supernatural and it had piqued Bela's interest from then on.
She began researching not long after that, finding out everything she could about demons, ghosts and whatever else existed in her world. Bela soon discovered the lore about supernatural items: some of them were ancient and cursed, others were more recent but had incredible value. What better way to throw off the shackles of her oppression by doing something spontaneous and profitable like stealing -or acquiring as she liked to call it now- rare items that could earn her a tidy income as well as bringing out a more confident side.
After a few years of research and hands on experience, Bela had learned the tricks of the trade, becoming a master thief and con-artist. Charming her way into people's hearts then robbing them blind. Using her beauty and wit to fool people into trusting her. This was the person that she had become now. A façade yes, but it was something that Bela could hide behind without letting anyone know about the scared little girl who remained underneath.
Bidding farewell to the diplomat, Bela turned on her heel and headed off towards the vault, head held high, her hips sashaying just a little. She had to give off a certain allure after all to convince people of the alias she had undertaken for the job: incredibly flirtatious and a bit of a bad girl. Not a far stretch from her normal persona but Bela was pretending to be an American this time around.
In just a few short hours, Bela would be a few million dollars richer and back in her apartment in New York. Sipping the finest champagne to celebrate her victory. Forget about the deal hanging over her head and enjoy life to the fullest while she was still around to live it. Yes, it was definitely going to be a good couple of days for her when she returned home. Maybe she could share it with someone else, find a handsome stranger in a cocktail bar then take him home and show him a good time. Kick him out the next day and promise to call but never actually go through with it. That was how Bela lived and she wasn't going to change it.
Living like that forced away any negative thoughts or feelings of emptiness. It helped Bela to forget about her anxiety, the fear she felt about dying within a few months.
No. That simply wouldn't do.
Life was for living with no regrets.
It was the motto that Bela had stuck to for quite some time.