Laverna
Goddess of thieves
- Best answers
- 0
- Known Aliases
-
Ferret
Brat
Bonnie Parker
Bon park
Chapter One:
It began like any other day in the shadowy life of my adventurous life. I was meticulously orchestrating my latest caper, always one step ahead of my favorite ACME detectives, Zack and Ivy. The date was October 29th, 2002 at 3:30 am and I still reigned supreme over the criminal underworld, pulling the strings from behind the scenes. ACME held out hope that I would abandon my life of thievery, but the image of their annoyed, slightly amused faces only brought a smile to my lips as I slipped down my trusty grappling hook into the empty museum below. My landing faltered, my balance wavering in the sleek red high heels. "Easy there," I muttered, steadying myself this was a job that should be as effortless as stealing candy from a baby and I had pulled off thousands of heists just like this one, and confidence oozed from every pore. But today, I felt...different. A weakness seeped into my bones, a vulnerability I hadn't felt since my childhood as an orphan.
The sharp clicking of my heels against the tile was music to my ears, a symphony heralding another flawless heist in my never-ending cat-and-mouse game. I strutted confidently down the hall, my eyes locking on the prize: the exquisite ruby and amethyst statue. My circular glass cutter gleamed in the dim light as I began my swift, precise work on the display case. Suddenly, a sharp, searing pain lanced through my pelvis. Any other thief would have aborted the mission, I gritted my teeth, ignoring the agony as long as possible before scooping the statuette into my gloved hands.
The pain intensified, my vision blurring with flashing lights of yellow, magenta, and coral. Through the haze, I noticed the C5 corridor opening up out of the corner of my eye. The holographic blue light signaled it was time to bolt; I did what I did best. I escaped.
The pain intensified, slowing me down; this wasn't supposed to happen. I was supposed to be in perfect health, and my doctors cleared me to be perfectly healthy when I saw them at the beginning of the year around February.
I slide into one of our vans and collapse into the seat. “Boys, I'm back,” I exclaimed while trying to keep my cool as I made myself comfortable in the vehicle. Lars and Moe looked at me with confusion etched across their faces.
They wanted to question my slight change in demeanor; I would have liked to question it myself.
“Just drive to the nearest V.I.L.E medical facility, Don’t pry on why?” I commanded a bit more sternly than anticipated.
Pain can make anyone aggressive, and I felt like my appendix was rupturing. That was the only logical explanation my brain could process at that moment.
I took off my black leather glove; I turned to look out the window, trying to control my body’s stimuli to the painful situation unfolding inside.
I inspect my hands more out of trying to shift my perspective to something more rational. They always say mind over matter; I normally excelled in this area of mental fitness, and I was dumbfounded as I fought back a groan that attempted to escape my throat.
My hands looked fine, a little sweaty from wearing leather gloves in this warm autumn weather. My red nail polish was chipped as I haven't kept up with my self-care routine lately. I believe that I have been caught up in something that led me to forget about a lot of things as of late.
Whatever, that thing was a mystery. Only my subconscious mind knew, and soon my conscious one would know it too.
However, inspecting the back of my hands didn't ease the unnerving anxiety creeping into my mind. I had come up with a few possible conclusions for my unusual suffering.
One idea was that I possibly had cancer, and it wasn't caught until it was too late. Another one was a rupture of any of my internal organs, and another thought was I had been shot with a new sort of firearm and was quickly bleeding to death from the inside out.
Moe poked me in the cheek, “Boss. Are you okay?” I turned to face him, and I noticed he was clammy. “Yeah, I I’m fine.” I stammered, which rang warning bells to my henchmen Lars and Moe.
“You stammered, you have never stuttered,” Lars explained like I hadn't caught that myself.
I shook my head, pulling my hat down, attempting to hide the pained expression.
When we arrived at the medical center, that served as a cover-up for a myriad of our agents. The pain kept intensifying; a few tears fell from my eyes as my body tried to regulate the pain on its own.
Lars hurriedly got out of the driver's seat, These two goons were panicking now. Despite this fact, I haven’t explicitly shared my swirling thoughts of dying and other sickening conclusions. I felt grateful for these two as Moe and Lars helped me to stand up.
I could barely stand on my own; I couldn't protest, but I was picked up like I weighed nothing. I clutched my hat in my hands, gritting my teeth in the process.
I was triaged first, leaving a few people in the emergency room’s waiting room baffled.
I mean, if I was in their shoes and I saw an infamous criminal boss, as she was carried by two of her lackeys into the hospital. I would’ve been flabbergasted, Going delirious, and questioning my sanity.
I mean, who expects me to show up in this scenario? I surely didn't expect to be in an emergency room at four in the morning.
Yet, here I was, and I hoped we would find out the reason for this agony
It began like any other day in the shadowy life of my adventurous life. I was meticulously orchestrating my latest caper, always one step ahead of my favorite ACME detectives, Zack and Ivy. The date was October 29th, 2002 at 3:30 am and I still reigned supreme over the criminal underworld, pulling the strings from behind the scenes. ACME held out hope that I would abandon my life of thievery, but the image of their annoyed, slightly amused faces only brought a smile to my lips as I slipped down my trusty grappling hook into the empty museum below. My landing faltered, my balance wavering in the sleek red high heels. "Easy there," I muttered, steadying myself this was a job that should be as effortless as stealing candy from a baby and I had pulled off thousands of heists just like this one, and confidence oozed from every pore. But today, I felt...different. A weakness seeped into my bones, a vulnerability I hadn't felt since my childhood as an orphan.
The sharp clicking of my heels against the tile was music to my ears, a symphony heralding another flawless heist in my never-ending cat-and-mouse game. I strutted confidently down the hall, my eyes locking on the prize: the exquisite ruby and amethyst statue. My circular glass cutter gleamed in the dim light as I began my swift, precise work on the display case. Suddenly, a sharp, searing pain lanced through my pelvis. Any other thief would have aborted the mission, I gritted my teeth, ignoring the agony as long as possible before scooping the statuette into my gloved hands.
The pain intensified, my vision blurring with flashing lights of yellow, magenta, and coral. Through the haze, I noticed the C5 corridor opening up out of the corner of my eye. The holographic blue light signaled it was time to bolt; I did what I did best. I escaped.
The pain intensified, slowing me down; this wasn't supposed to happen. I was supposed to be in perfect health, and my doctors cleared me to be perfectly healthy when I saw them at the beginning of the year around February.
I slide into one of our vans and collapse into the seat. “Boys, I'm back,” I exclaimed while trying to keep my cool as I made myself comfortable in the vehicle. Lars and Moe looked at me with confusion etched across their faces.
They wanted to question my slight change in demeanor; I would have liked to question it myself.
“Just drive to the nearest V.I.L.E medical facility, Don’t pry on why?” I commanded a bit more sternly than anticipated.
Pain can make anyone aggressive, and I felt like my appendix was rupturing. That was the only logical explanation my brain could process at that moment.
I took off my black leather glove; I turned to look out the window, trying to control my body’s stimuli to the painful situation unfolding inside.
I inspect my hands more out of trying to shift my perspective to something more rational. They always say mind over matter; I normally excelled in this area of mental fitness, and I was dumbfounded as I fought back a groan that attempted to escape my throat.
My hands looked fine, a little sweaty from wearing leather gloves in this warm autumn weather. My red nail polish was chipped as I haven't kept up with my self-care routine lately. I believe that I have been caught up in something that led me to forget about a lot of things as of late.
Whatever, that thing was a mystery. Only my subconscious mind knew, and soon my conscious one would know it too.
However, inspecting the back of my hands didn't ease the unnerving anxiety creeping into my mind. I had come up with a few possible conclusions for my unusual suffering.
One idea was that I possibly had cancer, and it wasn't caught until it was too late. Another one was a rupture of any of my internal organs, and another thought was I had been shot with a new sort of firearm and was quickly bleeding to death from the inside out.
Moe poked me in the cheek, “Boss. Are you okay?” I turned to face him, and I noticed he was clammy. “Yeah, I I’m fine.” I stammered, which rang warning bells to my henchmen Lars and Moe.
“You stammered, you have never stuttered,” Lars explained like I hadn't caught that myself.
I shook my head, pulling my hat down, attempting to hide the pained expression.
When we arrived at the medical center, that served as a cover-up for a myriad of our agents. The pain kept intensifying; a few tears fell from my eyes as my body tried to regulate the pain on its own.
Lars hurriedly got out of the driver's seat, These two goons were panicking now. Despite this fact, I haven’t explicitly shared my swirling thoughts of dying and other sickening conclusions. I felt grateful for these two as Moe and Lars helped me to stand up.
I could barely stand on my own; I couldn't protest, but I was picked up like I weighed nothing. I clutched my hat in my hands, gritting my teeth in the process.
I was triaged first, leaving a few people in the emergency room’s waiting room baffled.
I mean, if I was in their shoes and I saw an infamous criminal boss, as she was carried by two of her lackeys into the hospital. I would’ve been flabbergasted, Going delirious, and questioning my sanity.
I mean, who expects me to show up in this scenario? I surely didn't expect to be in an emergency room at four in the morning.
Yet, here I was, and I hoped we would find out the reason for this agony
