A Theft Of Curiosity

A Theft Of Curiosity
Date of Scene:	14 January 2013
Location:	Palumpolum
Synopsis:	While doing some research in the local PSICOM office in Palumpolum, Jihl Nabaat is .. wooed by a erring phantom thief - Max.
Cast of Characters:	Maximilien, Jihl Nabaat

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Jihl Nabaat has posed:
Palumpolum is a gorgeous, beautiful town located on the Central Isle in the World of Ruin. A port City, it houses both ships of the water and air type, allowing easy access in and out for anyone of any type, although newcomers not from Cocoon itself back before the World fell are always warily eyeballed.

Skywalks and regular walks line the city of commerce, which is unusual for the high-tech world with online shopping, it has lively actual shopping markets going on at all times.

PSICOM, as a roving security force, maintains one of their bases here, hidden behind the market, looking like a normal place at first, if you disregard the fact that after you open up the first door, every single other door requires a security card - each card requiring higher and higher rank.

They have surprisingly good anti-theft measures as well, although, delightfully so, due to the lack of inherent magic use for most of the residents, they can easily be cheated by so.

Jihl Nabaat, in one of the study areas in the science wing, reads something on the table in front of her, tapping her foot gently on the floor as she considers what she's reading. She is writing as well, in bold, polished strokes; the end result is of a woman too deeply intent to notice.

Maximilien has posed:
Palumpolum is, indeed, a gorgeous, beautiful town. Maximilien Amadeus Renaud-Sylvianne can appreciate beauty; he's very good at appreciating beauty, being as he is both French and classy. Cocoon is a bizarre alien world, of course, but there are few worlds so alien that Max can't find his way around with a little cleverness, a little ingenuity, and perhaps chatting up a native girl or two.

It doesn't take much for Max to get into Cocoon and find one of PSICOM's bases; hidden bases always have little tells, little secret hints that make it tremendously obvious to anyone who is actually observing or knows what to look for. People have...a way of avoiding places they know are not /safe/. So Max just looks for that - the subconscious evasion, the little voice in their head telling them to go away or get shot. When he finds it, he takes a little bit to check out the situation, see who goes in and out...and then pick the pocket of one of the men, slip his way in, and leave the man outside, complaining about leaving his keycard in his pocket.

This place is phenomenal. It is as high-tech as one can imagine; any single weapon from this place would fetch a tremendously enormous price to the right people. Still, the weapons aren't what he's after - he wants /treasure/, and treasure he's going to get.

Spells make this all too easy. A little floating, a little flying, and a few spells to shroud his path with mist, and Max manages to get his way up to the science lab without much trouble. If there is a treasure, it will be here, inside the laboratory; unfortunately for Max, Jihl is /also/ there. As he enters the room, he immediately notices her; living people are very easy to notice, very predictable. Dealing with them, though...

Max immediately jumps up to the ceiling, clinging to it carefully. He'silent, astoundingly silent; he presses his hands against the walls, moving silently against the ceiling without his grappling hook, trying to get a good view of the room - and any valuables within.

Jihl Nabaat has posed:
Jihl quietly sits back in her chair, rolling her shoulders to work out the kinks in them. The woman ditches the belt around her waist, shrugging off the large green overcoat, leaving her in the corset over the knee-length short-sleeved white dress. She clips the belt back on again, leaving the jacket over the back of her chair,

She reaches up to her neck, quietly undoing the white choker with the glowing orange feather-like gemstone - it seems to be like a extraordinarily rare orange diamond. She carefully sets that over her book, then stands.

Treasure-wise, there are very few books; most of it is probably loaded onto those futuristic computers, with their hard drives and such. Jihl turns around, then moves to one of the computers, frowning as she rapidly researchs something.

Maximilien has posed:
Oh, that just wasn't /fair/. Then again...if it was fair, a phantom thief wouldn't want it, would he?

Max always has a moment to appreciate a beautiful woman; he does so now, watching Jihl shrug off her overcoat with great appreciation. Unfortunately, that moment very nearly gets him in a great deal of trouble; as she turns around suddenly, Max is forced to slide to the side, scrabbling still quite stealthily along the wall and away from her field of vision. Unfortunately for Max, now he's ferociously close to her; he's carefully covering his mouth and nose with his cape (utility AND style!), inching towards that choker. This was going to be...incredibly, astoundingly difficult.

He was pretty sure he couldn't get anything off the hard drive without her help, but holding a woman hostage truly didn't appeal to Max at all.

Jihl Nabaat has posed:
Jihl is absolutely terrible without meaning to be.

That's delicious.

Jihl pauses typing for a few moments, biting her bottom lip as she considers the screen in front of her, raising her eyebrow briefly at the glowing green numeral in front of her. Then she stabs the backspace key a few times, scowling, resting one hand on the handle of her baton as she regards the data facts.

Hmph.

Maximilien has posed:
Max slips around, inching along the wall and under the ceiling as he moves for the choker. He could still get this; he could still snag the choker off the table. He moves as silently as a whisper on the wind, slowly moving carefully, carefully, carefully reaching his hand out to snag the necklace, he's so close, he's almost got it, his hand's around the choker, he's-

-in a great deal of pain, because not two days ago every wound he had ever avoided suffering in his life suddenly came to be. He snags the choker, but he loses his grip; he comes falling, landing on the table behind Jihl, his face twisted in pain as he clings onto the crystal.

Blast.

Jihl Nabaat has posed:
About two seconds after Max's body hits the table, there is a white, carved, wooden-with-a-metal-core baton in Jihl's grip and the point of it is resting against - or very near - Maxs' neck. The look in her eyes is thoughtful.

"You're good."

Her voice is practically a purr - it is certainly lower and warm with malice, and edged with curiousity. "Very, very good; most normally can't get past the second or third security firewall."

Maximilien has posed:
Ah. That was...unfortunate.

Max does his best to ignore the throbbing of his wounds as the woman's baton comes down onto his neck. Despite the fact that he's got a weapon pressed against his neck, he always has at least one weapon quite well in hand - charm. He puts on his best smile, suppressing the pain with an extraordinary effort of willpower, and slips the necklace up into his sleeve. "Bonjour, madamoiselle. So are you."

"I feel as though I have tripped at the finish line, so to speak. A clumsy and foolish mistake not normally befitting of me." His smile widens just a bit. "I would tell you that this place is simply fascinating and I got lost on the way in, but I would rather not insult your intelligence, so I will simply say that I was quite attracted to the jewel around your neck, almost as much as the woman it was attached to."

"So to celebrate this newfound revelation of attraction, perhaps you would be so kind as to stop crushing my windpipe? I am not a violent man and do not carry weapons of any nature; a brief patdown will show you that, and likely be quite fun for both of us, so I assure you - I will not resist. I am your willing captive, madamoiselle...?"

Jihl Nabaat has posed:
Jihl watches him slip her choker up into his sleeve, and she raises one eyebrow behind her glasses - "You are saucy, cocky, and sure of yourself, thiefling." She says this with the malice running out of her voice, but there is a sort of almost sadistic curiousity rounding out her tone now.

Jihl withdraws the baton, but it remains in her hand; it is almost like a proper extension of herself, and she takes another half-step back so that he can properly sit up and get off of her table and her paperwork. It is not the table, but the fact that he has probably marred the ink on her paperwork that is truly insulting... and frustrating.



"Please, do not continue with the flirting." She finally adds on, coolly, a tinge of ice wrapping around her words. "I do not appreciate it, really." She flicks her head back - her hair ripples around her face as she takes off her glasses, a almost cruel smile crossing her face.

"I am Jihl Nabaat."

Maximilien has posed:
"That is a shame, madamoiselle Nabaat, because I do quite appreciate you; you are far too lovely not to be appreciated. Something about the unapproachable beauty makes it all the more appealing. I take it you do not get many of your men behaving so forwardly, mmm? A great shame indeed." Please, if 'stop flirting with me' was enough to get Max to stop flirting with someone, Cirra would have nothing to worry about. His smile just grows as she pulls off her glasses, and he sits up, then hops off the table and dusts himself off. Then he steps back a bit, folds his hand over his chest, and bows low. "I am, indeed, all of the things that you accuse me of and then some; I assure you that I am capable of walking out of this establishment right this moment if I am so allowed, without a single member of your or your security measures noticing me. Would you like to see me do so? I suspect by your paperwork and attire that you are a scientist; I imagine that, even if you are quietly compelled to simply rip my head from my shoulders, your own curiousity is quietly getting the better of you. After all-"

And then suddenly he's just right in front of her, his hands on her hips, a smile on his face. "-I suspect you are /incredibly/ brilliant in addition to being extraordinarily beautiful, and I happen to know for a fact that brilliant individuals can never resist a challenge, mmm?"

Jihl Nabaat has posed:
Max is upon her in a manner of seconds, his hands resting on her hips - her scabbard, hanging from her belt that rests on her hips, clinks slightly. Then he inevitably gives her a challenge.

Jihl's smile changes - it goes from cruel, to calculating, even as she leans forward to whisper in his ear -

"I suspect you do not know who you're dealing with - I am no scientest, my dear thief."

Her baton comes up, and she attempts to flip them into the hallway, where there is a length of bare wall and no electroncis to be destroyed, pressing him against the wall.

"I am the head of the largest army my world has ever mustered, only second to the ruler of our land." Her voice is as smooth as silk, as edged as a viper, and as sweet as a mixture of honey and milk.

"So perhaps you couldn't walk your way out of here..."

Maximilien has posed:
WHY ARE ALL THE WOMEN HE FINDS DESIREABLE MURDEROUSLY CRAZY

Max was seriously starting to wonder about his own ability to discern appealing women. There's certainly plenty of physically attractive women in the world who /aren't/ crazy. Millions of them, probably! Avira isn't crazy! There are probably others who aren't insane! So why are all the ones he actually *desires* crazy?

It probably has something to do with his incessant desire to be competitive. Something about brilliance, as he just said...he just couldn't resist a challenge. As he's flung against the wall, he bites his lip again, swallowing down the pain from his numerous (slightly visible) bandages; his smile barely falters, imperceptibly, but just enough. "Are you, now? That is /infinitely/ more interesting than another scientist. Tell me about your army, madamoiselle? You seem quite proud of it; Heaven forbid I stop a beautiful and brilliant woman from bragging about something she is clearly proud of."

He doesn't remove his hands from her hips. They're nice hips. "Though I assure you - that will not be enough to stop me. Given that it did not stop me coming /in/...although I confess, I did not know just how great a treasure was waiting for me here." Pinned, in furious danger, and still grinning quite wide. "If I had, I might have taken my time a bit more. Tell me, madamoiselle...do you dance?"

Jihl Nabaat has posed:
It's okay, Jihl never gets laid anyways. Like, never. There is almost good evidence that no one brave enough to tap that fine rear would ever do it, as Yaag isn't her type, and most everyone else is her subordinate. So Max starting to wonder is almost hilarious.

Almost.

Jihl stays pressed against him, a smug smile crossing her lips. "Oh, I'm not proud of them." She tosses this off in a smooth voice. "Most of the time they're inconvienent and terribly bad at their jobs, no matter how much I try to fix them." She sighs, her other hand sliding up to his sleeve, aiming to grab her choker through it.

"I don't dance. I prefer to stand stable on both of my feet." Her baton presses in a little bit more.

Maximilien has posed:
Max is carefully evading her hand with his sleeve; he's gently moving to test her, to see if her eye is as good as he thinks it is. He's been carrying, and moving, his right sleeve as though the choker were inside it; the choker is actually in the left sleeve, carefully concealed /under/ his elbow. If she can pick that up...well then. He's going to have some issues here. He's pretty sure she could. His instincts about intelligence were usually right.

"I could teach you, you know," Max observes, tapping her hips gently with his fingers. "You certainly have the dexterity for it. Among other qualities. I promise you that you would also enjoy it quite a bit...but I am going to guess you do not take kindly to thieves and break-in artists, mmm?"

"Would it assuage your anger if I told you that I am neither spy nor enemy, simply a loose and interested independant with a great deal of free time on his hands and a fascination with beautiful things both material and female? Hypothetically, of course. Or would it simply get you to kill me faster? Hypothetically, if I said such a thing."

"After all, madamoiselle, I am at your mercy and clearly not going anywhere." He moves his hands up, wrapping them firmly around her waist and tugging her into a bit of a hug. "We might as well make my inevitable execution a memorable and enjoyable one for the both of us, ehn?"

Jihl Nabaat has posed:
Jihl's hand wraps around his right elbow, even as her left hand comes up to touch his hand on her left hip, raising an eyebrow. "I want my choker back, ser thief; I know it is in your other sleeve, nearabouts your elbow."

Oh, she's good. The glasses must be for show, it seems.

He taps at her hips, then promptly pulls her into a hug. Jihl hans't been this close to anyone in ages - she arches a sharp eyebrow, her grip around his elbow becoming claw-like.

"I would prefer not to dance, ser thief. But perhaps, if I learned your name, and got my choker back...?" She dangles the offer in the air.

Maximilien has posed:
"You would only kill me faster, ma chere," Max replies cheerfully, dropping the choker into his hand. He reaches up along her back, draping it around her neck and gently clicking it back shut. She had passed that test; he was in deep, deep trouble. The glasses being for show he had suspected; the fact that she wasn't crushing hs neck was very important, though.

"Max," Max murmurs against her ear, or at least as much as he can given his neck is being pinned by a baton. "Je m'appelle Max."

"So...will you dance with me, ma chere? Or is my prediction about my imminent death all too accurate?"

Jihl Nabaat has posed:
There is a tense moment when the choker drops itself back into his hand - and then it settles back against Jihls' somewhat pale skin, the orange gemstone glowing, the feather look smoothly settling itself back into place.

"Max." She rolls the syllable around in her mouth for a few seconds, almost caressing - Jihl likes words, and anything with x's in it is almost like, well, word porn.

It may also be her way of getting back at master flirt here.

That done, she steps away from him, the baton twirling deftly in a swift movement, before in a blink of the eye, it drops back into her scabbard. She then looks at him.

Maximilien has posed:
That's...skillful. This woman is frightening; she knew exactly what to do in the dance once she got in synch. His smile is practically plastered on; he doesn't allow her to step away from him, stepping up with her as his hands remain tightly around her waist. "Then let us dance, ma chere," Max murmurs in her ear. One of his hands makes its way up into hers; his smile becomes a smirk.

"Or are you still interested in seeing the results of my challenge?"

Jihl Nabaat has posed:
Max pulls her hand into his, then settles the other one more firmly on her waist. In this position, Jihl can't help but feel a little silly, even as they stand there in the middle of the hallway, and she's pretty sure he just called her a pet name. Pretty, pretty sure.

She matches his smirk with a dry look.

"I don't think there's a challenge here anymore, Max." She drawls his name in a smooth motion. "Unless... you don't want to dance?"

"Also, do you try to woo your way out of trouble with every woman you try to steal from?"

Maximilien has posed:
"Oui, indeed I do, to both your inquiries" Max replies cheerfully as he begins quietly leading her, as though they were, in fact, on the dance floor. He moves a little closer to her office, however; a hallway had its own problems, and allowed far too many soldiers she might've called to take very skilled sniper shots at him. As soon as they're back in her office, his foot snaps upwards to click whatever mechanism it uses shut, and he tightens his grip on her. "However...it is so very rare that I find one worth naming /ma chere/. You are, to date, only the second to share the honor...though I must admit that the two of you are *remarkably* alike. Beautiful, ferocious, skilled, uncompromising..."

AND CRAZY

"Tremendously appealing women. So I assure you, at least, that it is not /simply/ to escape...because if I really wanted to escape, I would be running, would I not?"

He spins her, then tugs her back into his arms almost immediately, as if reluctant to let her go. Some part of him is; the rest of him, the rational, intelligent part of him is simply unwilling to give her a chance to change her mind, reach the guards, and get him murdered. He could always take a gun back or something; those guards were /idiots/.

Jihl Nabaat has posed:
Max is a good guide - Jihl has problems following though, this is due to her own series of characters flaw - egotism, and a inherent, wanton, almost animalistic need to be the best. The /very/ best that she can be. This is probably why Jihl has problems.

Probably.

He neatly manages to shut her door - and she can't help but chuckle. It is that soft little burble, that often comes after she's made a decision that makes her look good, or she's reduced someone to incoherent sobbing by totally destroying them.

"The second?" She inquires, her voice soft. "That's .. .a shame, really. One would hope that I would be the first... perhaps I should try to find your other ma chere, and talk to her."

Maximilien has posed:
Max is an /excellent/ guide; he compensates for unruly, unwilling partners with his own grace and skill, which sort of turns dancing into more of a contest than a partnership. Then again, Max has the same egotistical challenge-loving nature that makes him so willing to do things like 'dance with a woman who very well means him grievous bodily harm'. He's unwilling to be anything but his very best, no matter the situation.

"You mean 'my other chere'," Max corrects her gently, "'Ma chere' is 'my dear'. As for that, non, I fear she hates me /far/ too much." He's awfully cheerful about it, though!

Max spins her around to face away from him, hooking his arms about her stomach. "Tell me about Cocoon; it is such a beautiful city, oui? Unique. Fantastical. Magnifique."

Jihl Nabaat has posed:
It is not that she is unruly or unwilling, Jihl just never dances. She's that type of woman, that if you saw her at a ball, would be down in her full military uniform, rather than in a ballgown, dancing with a man.

Ice queen.

Iceeeee queeeeen.

Jihl is promptly spun around to face away from him - and she tenses. Never turn your back on the ... enemy? Maximilien? Thief? Who in the world knows. However, he asks her a very ... loaded question, at least to her - and she shakes her head brikefly, the blonde waves rippling down her back.

"Cocoon is not our city; Cocoon is the name of the planet we lived on. This city is Palumpolum." She raises a hand, pointing somewhat to the ceiling - and maybe the sky - above her. "Our world is a artifical one, created by the fal'Cie, supernatural godlike beings, to protect humanity from Pulse, the world beneath, which teemed with dark and dangerous things."

Maximilien has posed:
"Oh?" Maximilien murmurs, swaying gently side to side as they stand there. He's got his eye on the door; the eye not on her, anyway. He's definitely keeping his eye on her; she's too pretty not to, ignoring the far more practical reasons also running through Max's head - namely that she was far too dangerous not to keep an eye on, even in a posion like this.

"Tell me about Palumpolum then. Are there more women like you here~?"

Jihl Nabaat has posed:
Jihl is still tense - she's like that.

"No." Jihl says, almost instantanously. "Not that I'm aware of, at least, and I tend to be one of the more well-traveled people due to my work in the army. All of my higher ranking associates are male." There's also Lightning, but Jihl doesn't like her, so forget THAT.

"Palumpolum is a port city, in both the airship and water-ship sort of way. It has a direct train connection to Eden, the capital city, and a secondary train running to that new... Serendipity gambling hall place." Jihl sniffs, her opinion not high on Serendipity.

"It is the city of commerce, for while we are advanced enough to shop online, they have a thriving face-to-face market."

Maximilien has posed:
"Oh," Max replies cheerfully, spinning her back around to face him once again. He makes their way back over to the table, snagging her glasses off it with his free hand; he slips them back onto her face and raises an eyebrow. "I expected you were one-of-a-kind." Or at least VERY CLOSE to unique, given his other major fascination in the female department.

"Do you not like gambling, ma chere? You seem like a very stiff woman. Even now, in the arms of a handsome thief, you are so very tense and stiff; you can relax around me, you know. I have no desire to hurt you. I /do/ desire your absolutely exquisite choker, but...c'est la vie."

"I think it looks better round your neck than it would in my hands regardless."

"Tell me about Eden? Your world is so very different from anything I have ever seen, and I am a man who loves to travel."

Jihl Nabaat has posed:
Jihl, thankfully, does not get dizzy while spun. They dance over to the table, and her glasses perch back on the bridge of her nose; she swiftly tosses her head again, her hair falling neatly back into place over her right eyes.

"I do not... particularly approve of it, no - it does nothing but cause problems for the Guardian Corps, as many people get drunk and then lose control over themselves." She is not so tense now that she's facing him - probably because two eyes is better than none.

She does not comment on her choker.

"Eden is our floating, capital city. There is a train from here in Palumpolum to it, or you must take an airship. That is all. It is very beautiful, floating up in the sky, with the silvers and metals gleaming."

"Oh, we also have the grand race prix."

Maximilien has posed:
"You look /much/ more beautiful with your glasses," Max observes as her hair falls down past her face. Also, the reflection in the glass means that Max can actually turn away from the door and still watch it, so long as he keeps his eyes on her face. So far, that hasn't proved to be a difficult task.

Except briefly, of course.

"Will you show me around Eden one day, ma chere? Show me the wonders of your floating city, the beautiful places we could go to...mm...be alone and enjoy the view?"

"Will you show me your grand prix, your silver spires, your towers in the sky?" He leans down, his lips gently brushing across hers. "Will you show me your world, ma chere Nabaat?"

Jihl Nabaat has posed:
"I don't actually need them." Jihl admits as they continue to smoothly dance in place. "They just look pretty... plus if you've noticed, they've got my initials in script along the sides." She smirks briefly, at some various thing, but...

He asks her to do many a thing, his head leaning down towards her. The much shorter woman tilts her head up, almost quizzically, her pale lips pursing briefly before she finally shrugs one shoulder, a delicate movement.

"And show you everything that's available to steal?" She inquires, almost teasingly.

Then he ... kisses her? Perhaps? She's not sure what to define that as, but it gets a uncharacteristic reaction from a woman who most men fear - and indeed, most men wouldn't even think of trying to touch her, much less twirl her around and well, just... do what he's doing.

In that, she rises up on her tiptoes, and promptly, properly, kisses Maximilien back. A smirk crosses her face as she drops back down to her proper height, the much-shorter-than-thief woman looking undeniably smug.

"Perhaps we could come to a deal."

Maximilien has posed:
"Then let us deal, ma chere. I am always open to dealings with beautiful women, especially beautiful and dangerous women. You are almost assuredly an excellent example of both; let us deal." Max's hands slide up onto her back as she kisses him; perhaps he's not in /quite/ as much of a hurry to make an escape as he thought. Nevermind that these people didn't seem to have any concept of magic; he'd gotten in here so easily, he was actually sort of surprised. Normally in the World of Ruin, it was his technological gimos people weren't prepared for, not his magical tricks. He would resolve to ask her about that later, but for now...for now, she was offering something, and that meant he might /not/ be walking out of here empty-handed.

He spins her back around, his hands slipping tight around her stomach; the much, much taller man leans down, his lips right against her ear. Years of practice manipulating people, being put to the best use he can: his own profit.

"What," Max murmurs against her ear, "Did you have in mind to offer me?"

Jihl Nabaat has posed:
Jihl arches an eyebrow as he calls her both beautiful and dangerous - while he's not WRONG, so many people rarely call her such things to her face, especially after such... shenanigans that have happened tonight. She then is twirled, her blonde hair flying out in a swift arch to fall around her face in a brief muss.

He can feel her take a deep breath with the position of his hands, then she fumbles, stripping off one of her gloves, and with perfect accuracy, landing it on top of her book at the nearby table. She holds up her hand, revealing a small silver bracelet, with two matching gems that look like the one on her choker, and her full name in Cocoon script.

"Since you can't have the big gem..." She offers, couching the phrase 'big gem' so that it means much more than her choker.

Maximilien has posed:
"In exchange for what~?" Max inquires cheerfully. He's still keeping an eye on those alarms, of course, but he's so confident of his own control over the situation, so confident that he's completely in control of the battlefield, that he's also not really keeping too much of an eye on it. She could, if she wanted, probably call the guards; he might have to actually work his way out of this!

There's a second reason for this repeated spinning, the close dancing, the tight embraces, of course. Sure, he's enjoying it thoroughly - dangerous women were the most appealing women - but he's also double-checking for wires and security systems she might be wearing. It was much easier to see that sort of thing if someone was tremendously flustered; they didn't think to check if you were checking them out, or checking out their clothing for traces of wires and mics.

He has almost assuredly done this before.

Jihl Nabaat has posed:
Max finds mostly nothing of interest. Jihl has a in-ear radio set up that seems to be either turned off, or not connected to something; this may be why she looked so peaceful when he originally, well, Phantom Thief'd his way into the room.

Underneath her left glove, she is wearing a odd technological thing that is glowing, and if Max feels like it, reeks of magic, both good and dark. How strange.

"This, and your tour, in exchange for you not stealing from me or PSICOM." She does not say the Primarch, she does not say the Guardian Corps, she is that sort of woman - she protects herself and her most direct own.

Maximilien has posed:
"Interesting," Max observes - both obviously at her offer and less obviously at the device on her hand. He slides his hand into her palm, tightening his grip around both the glove and the choker she's holding up; it was clearly valuable, real, worth something impressive. The device under her glove...he could find out about that much later. The deal wasn't bad; if these people had something of worth more interesting than the choker, it probably didn't belong to the military anyway. Guns and weapons and violence weren't treasures to him. They were toys, gadgets, things he could pick up in trade from her but hardly needed to /steal/. Stealing was for jewels, for gold, for magic items of exceptional rarity and technological marvels irreproduceable by the hand of man. Advanced machines were all well and good, but not the kind of treasure he sought.

"Very well. I accept. But I have a mild condition."

He spins her back to face him, dipping her down towards the floor. He's quite tall enough to do it, too! "Wear something more comfortable for my tour, ma chere, and we have a deal."

Jihl Nabaat has posed:
It is clear Jihl is offering the secondary item in her jewelry set, of course, with her wearing gloves, no one is likely to notice is gone, so she can afford to lose it, watching it pass from hers to his. She gives him a somewhat - lazy smile, almost.

She spins around again, and she lets out a breathless chuckle as she's dipped down.

"I don't think that... is something I'm capable of doing." She murmurs, her lazy smile quirking up into a edged one.

Maximilien has posed:
"A shame. You would look stunning in a good dress," Max replies, sliding the jewel into his sleeve. He releases her after he's swung her back into his arms, taking a step back; two fingers brush against his forehead as he offers her a somewhat flippant, still cheerful salute, then steps back to the door. "Until next time, then, ma chere Nabaat; I will look forward to your tour nonetheless."

"Au revoir." And then the door slides open, and he vanishes out of it, disappearing like the morning mist. The cameras don't even pick him up; none of the alarms trigger, and he slips out of the base and even returns the access card to the man he pickpocketed without being spotted.

He tosses the jewel up into the air, then slides it back into one of his hidden pockets and heads down the street of Palumpolum, a smile on his face.

It was a good day to be him.

Jihl Nabaat has posed:
"... good bye, phantom thief." Jihl says to the doorway, before she takes her seat again, and tries to figure out one thing:

What the /heck/ just happened?!