<@Brett> [Tilda angrily stomps to stern of the ferry as the ferryman starts the engine. He's laughing. "American! I hear you screwed up! Badly enough to get kicked out of the ball! Haha! What'd you do?"] * Montana rubs at the back of his head. "Aaaah, y'know. I'm pretty terrible at dancin'. Thought I was doin' all right, but it turns out I got two left feet." People in your country, they ain't kind to bad dancers. * Montana sighs heavily, putting his hands back in his pockets. "Cryin' shame, too. Don't think she's ever gonna forgive me..." <@Brett> [The ferryman laughs. "I guess the up-an'ups aren't, yeah. Mebbe I'll buy ya a drink later, and you can tell me all about it. Meantime, ye'd better see to yer girl."] * Montana smiles wryly. "Thanks, man. I mean it." He claps the ferryman on the shoulder before he heads off after Tilda, properly contrite. <@Brett> [As the boat pulls away, Tilda leans on the railing at the stern... bow... aft.... END, of the ferry, watching the palace as it slowly retreats into the distance. Or rather, as the ferry moves away from it. The palace isn't actually retreating. At this time.] * Montana walks up behind Tilda, hands still in his pockets. "Well?" he asks. <@Brett> [Tilda glares at him. "I should be furious with you." Then she grins. "If it didn't work like a charm." She reaches into her clevage, and ever so briefly pulls up the edge of the Rose Jewel Necklace.] * Montana whistles. "I figured you were goin' for that." <@Brett> [Tilda pushes it back in and pouts. "Can you think of a better way to steal a necklace off a girl's body?"] * Montana laughs, holding up both hands and shaking his head. "I'm afraid of walkin' into that one." <@Brett> [Tilda snickers. "Nevertheless, I must commend you, you played your part perfectly. You genuinely looked confused, there."] Hey, dumb American's pretty easy for me to play. It's close to my heart. * Montana walks over to the railing, himself, and leans against it, looking back to the palace. "And he played his. He ain't like us, y'know... I figured he'd be most comfortable doing what he'd do naturally." <@Brett> [Tilda rolls her eyes. "I could tell that from looking at him. He did his part well, but I wouldn't invite him on my next heist, if you know what I mean."] * Montana snerks. "And I know I do." He looks at Tilda. "Hey..." No hard feelings, from before? <@Brett> ["No hard feelins," Tilda says. "If I'd known there was going to be so much competition, I wouldn't have gone after that thing, anyhow."] * Montana frowns. "Yeah. The guys on the chopper, fuckin' Christ." <@Brett> [Tilda nods. "They had some serious firepower."] * Montana rubs at his eyes briefly. "Yeah." Well, 'm glad you said there ain't no hard feelings, 'cause that'll make this next bit less weird... <@Brett> ["If you're asking to rent a hotel room, sure. But you pay for it."] * Montana rolls his eyes. "No." <@Brett> [Tilda pouts. "Too bad. It'd be a faster way to mend our relationship, if you know what I mean."] * Montana laughs. "And you know I do." He nudges Tilda in the arm. "Thanks, though. Sweet of ya to offer." No, what I mean ta say is... Your brother's a nice guy and al, and the kid... well. I dunno what's goin' on with her, or you, or any of that. But if you need any help, look me up. All right? (s/al/all) <@Brett> [Tilda raises an eyebrow. "Usually men want the sex and not the kid. Not the other way around."] * Montana snorts. "I don't *want* the kid." But... I'm just saying. <@Brett> ["You sure? She's very sweet."] Pretty sure she's yours. <@Brett> ["She could be yours, too, in time."] me turns his attention from the now distant palace to Tilda. "I'm *pretty* sure the last time we even pretended to be datin', it didn't work out so good." <@Brett> ["What are you talking about? I got this necklace out of it," she says, showing him again briefly. "Fine, I can take a hint."] <@Brett> [Tilda looks back towards the palace. "We've done well so far. Karl... He's good to her. And he's a good brother. He's just... not always the brightest. But maybe that's for the best."] * Montana laughs. And he kisses Tilda on the cheek. "It's a lovely necklace," he tells her. <@Brett> ["But the only times I worry is when he brings home strange me--aww."] * Montana smiles at her, then asks, "So what's this about strange men?" <@Brett> ["He thinks every one will be "Mr. Right." And it never is. At least I have the sense to leave them in a hotel room."] * Montana raises an eyebrow. "These strange men for himself or for you?" <@Brett> [She raises an eyebrow herself. "Himself. You couldn't tell?"] Naaaah, I figured, but I also figured I should check. <@Brett> [Tilda shrugs, "I always thought it was obvious."] Well, he *is* your brother. I only met him once, and he mostly hated me. Clearly ain't his type. You worried they'll hurt the kid? <@Brett> ["Of course. Wouldn't y-- um, nevermind."] * Montana blinks. "What?" <@Brett> [She snickers. "Somehow I think your brother has more sense than mine. Hell, he probably has more sense than you."] Who, Nigel? You'd think so, but the dude's pretty fuckin' nuts in a lotta ways. <@Brett> ["Really? He seems pretty stiff to me. All proper and... and.... British."] Yup. <@Brett> ["He looks more the type to sit in a study sipping tea while reading a novel than slink past laserbeams and disable pressure plates."] That covers Nigel pretty well. Stiff, proper, and British. Even grew up with two parents. Who's got that anymore? <@Brett> ["Don't know. I didn't. Amalia doesn't."] Right? Me neither. My mom left me to go have him. (s/mom/ma) <@Brett> ["Wow." Tilda stares at him. "That sucks."] * Montana stares at the water. "Yeah," he says, his voice a little tight, maybe for the first time Tilda's ever heard. "Basically." <@Brett> ["Did she ever contact you?"] Nope. <@Brett> [Tilda sighs. "Parents..."] Yeah. So. <@Brett> ["So you decided to become a thief?"] * Montana laughs. "We tradin' life stories now?" <@Brett> ["If you like."] Sure, I'm game. Yeah. Basically. I never wanted to be home, 'cause my pa was a terrible fuckin' father. So I was never at home. But I was also awful at school, so... * Montana smiles, a little crookedly. "I guess I went with the one thing I knew I was good at." <@Brett> [Tilda laughs. "Glad you didn't become a professional dancer, then."] * Montana laughs, too. "Well, I didn't know I was good at that! 'Cause I ain't." He nods to Tilda. "How 'bout you?" <@Brett> ["Mom died when Karl and I were kids. Dad was a waiter. He tried, but he didn't make much, so I helped suppliment his funds the only way I could."] * Montana nods. "It's rough, when your family don't make much. My dad made some, but he tended to spend most of it on drink." How'd you tell him you got the money? <@Brett> ["I didn't. I'd slip a little extra in his wallet when he wasn't looking, pay a bill before he knew it was due. Things like that."] Ah. * Montana grins. "You were a cute kid." <@Brett> [Tilda grins. "You know it. Anyhow, dad got sick. Elpin's pox hit the Nordic countries and, well, we couldn't afford treatment. So he died. And suddenly it was just Karl and me.] Damn, that's a shame. Waiting list was too long, couldn't skip to a private provider? (As I assume they still have socialized healthcare!) <@Brett> ( I forgot so.... ) <@Brett> ( No. No they don't. ) <@Brett> ( Not in Sweden, anyhow :D ) (Ah, see, Montana's explanation would make sense re: the money thing if they did. ^^) <@Brett> ["Couldn't afford it."] * Montana nods. <@Brett> [Tilda looks towards the sea. "So he died. After that.... I don't know. I was already used to stealing, but I just started hitting bigger and bigger targets. Not sure why."] Gotta keep movin'. <@Brett> [She shrugs. "Turns out I was good at it. Good enough to get noticed by the right people. They-- we were all kind of amateurish, now that I think about it. That first heist. Still, one thing led to another."] And here you are. <@Brett> [Tilda nods. "Here I am."] <@Brett> [She looks back at him. "Before you ask, as for Amalia, I have no idea."] * Montana blinks. "Hm?" <@Brett> ["Her father. I was young and unsupervised and stupid. So stupid. I told Karl her father ran out on me, but the truth is I have no idea who it is."] Yeah... well. Probably don't matter none. It ain't like he knows. <@Brett> ( Turns out it was Montana! ) (How old is Amalia again? XP) <@Brett> ( 6 ) (If they worked together seven years ago, I guess it's theoretically possible - if unlikely.) <@Brett> ( Maybe. It'd be hilarious anyhow :D ) * Montana grins. "'Sides, I hear her mom's a handful." <@Brett> [Tilda smirks. "Her mom can handle herself, for certain."] <@Brett> [The ferry approaches the dock. Tilda tilts her head. "Sure you don't want to find a place to spend the night?"] * Montana glances back at the palace and lets out a breath. "I dunno." <@Brett> [Tilda rolls her eyes. "Don't give yourself a migraine thinking about it too hard."] Aaaagh, woman. * Montana holds his arm out to Tilda. "C'mon, let's go get something to eat. I didn't have a damn thing in that whole failure of a party." <@Brett> [Tilda laughs and takes Montana's arm. "Close enough."] * Montana smiles at Tilda and leads her away. In search of a restaurant! <@Brett> [They may or may not find one. End!]