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Post by KENJIRO KUMETA on Jan 24, 2010 2:25:51 GMT -5
[/color] •••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••• [/center] Appreciating art was what most teenagers neglected to do when they decide to visit a museum. Kenjiro was just one of the few adolescent art appreciators; let’s just say he admired the Italian artists of the Renaissance for their dedication to their work… not their perfection in photographically capturing scenery, still life, or people for that matter. Artists like Cimabue, Duccio, Giotto, and Lorenzetti were excellent examples of brilliant and dedicated artists. Let us not forget Leonardo da Vinci, a memorable artist remembered for his most notable works of art. Unfortunately, the paintings and sculptures presented in the museum were all false as expected. The possibility of authentic art in a private institution was very unlikely, but at least the tourists were satisfied with just visiting Italy and viewing the art by the famous artist they could care less to remember.
Glancing down to his notepad, he wrote down the miniscule errors he spotted on the paintings from the original painting. For someone who had worked in a black market selling counterfeit merchandise, spotting the errors was a simple task. If he met the artists who painted a replica of a previous work of art, Kenjiro would definitely bow to them and give them credit for their dedication and patience. It was a shame the butler was a stubborn perfectionist, he refused to allow such a painting remain on the wall with “amateur errors.” Hell, he wouldn’t allow the original painting to remain on the wall unless it was reworked to its perfection. These so called “errors” would require a magnifying glass to encounter and Kenjiro was without a doubt blowing these mistakes out of proportion.
Tearing a sheet of paper from his notepad, he taped the paper under the specific painting and moved on to the next on. Yes, he was definitely pointing out the errors and leaving the notes out for the public to view. It was his way of helping out an artist, but it would also disturb the tourists or art critics browsing through the tour or presentation. His next target was Leonardo da Vinci’s The Last Supper, a painting representing the final supper of Jesus Christ and the 12 apostles. The painting foreshadowed most of the events of Christ’s passion and was one of Da Vinci’s reworked paintings. As he scribbled down the errors on his notepad he turned his head and noticed a few security guards approaching him.
When a security guard walks towards you with an upset look that definitely means trouble! Kenjiro wanted to run away but his legs ignored his commands. A small bead of sweat slid down his cheek as the security guard walked past him like he did not exist. Closing his eyes, he put his right hand to his chest and took a deep breath, looks like they didn’t mind his criticism. Or perhaps they hadn’t noticed the little notes he left under the paintings yet… which was a good too!
•••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••• & tag: Caroline~!
♥ word count: 489
♦ muse: Good.
♣ music: None.
• comments: Very, very sorry for the wait!
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Post by CAROLINE OLIVE DUBOIS on Jan 30, 2010 9:42:27 GMT -5
 x x - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -LITTLE DARLING, THE SMILES RETURNING TO THE FACESlittle darling, it seems like years since it's been here- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -It was a sin to visit Italy and not see that arts that it contains…or so that was what little miss Caroline heard- by and elderly man who appeared to be angry at the something, to be more precise. It was about two days since the little adventurer was stopped in mid-step along one of the many streets of Italy. And, seeing how she was never one to ignore her manners, she listened intently as this crazy old gent was spewing nonsense left and right. Her words often fumbled back and forth between English and Italian and his wandering eye appeared bound and determined to a stare a poor, helpless little bird down. Although it would be nothing for someone to shrug off the encounter into the category of ‘useless’, the threat that Caroline would combust into flames for not seeing the sights lingered with her next couple of days.
So, here she was, dressed in a green sweater, old jeans, and a pair of healthy sneakers.
Usually, Caroline was not one to let such things get the best of her, but she burnt a bit of her hair earlier that morning and, panicking, she donned on her attire and booked it for the nearest art gallery she could find.
As Caroline wandered through the halls, she could feel her heart calming down and a small smile begin to spread across her childish features. Hey, this stuff ain’t half-bad. She thought to herself. Although she was never one to have an eye for art, she knew a good painting when she saw one- and this building was filled to the brim with them! As she wandered from one piece of artwork to the next, Caroline found herself becoming mystified. How many hours were spent on this? How many times was the artist pushed to the brink of insanity then hauled back all in the name of finite detail? If she wore a hat, she would tip it off. Kudos, guys. She mentally congratulated, You did an amazing job.
It was then that Caroline spotted something peculiar. A note? Leaning forward, Caroline read the neat writing and swallowed a gasp. Standing up straight to see if anyone else noticed this scandalous act, Caroline realized with wide eyes that she was the only one within view. Leaning in again, she read the notes and tried to find the corresponding errors in the painting above. Alas, her eyes were not as skilled as this picky artist’s were.
What first was shock quickly rolled over and turned into rage. Reaching out, she plucked the piece of paper from the wall and crumpled it in her hand, the noise sounding incredibly loud in the quiet atmosphere. She muttered a few choice words underneath her breath and began her grand adventure for the day. With a quirked brow and light scowl, she walked along the hallways, plucking the paper underneath, crumpling it, and placing it in her pocket. It was all right to give your opinion, but to do so in such a way that it appeared to be an attack it just in sour taste. In her mind, Caroline wore a piece of fabric that covered her eyes- save for two cut holes for her to peer through, a long flowing cape, and paraded her underwear on the outside of her pants. She was a hero of justice!..and she was going to bring this no-good villain down!
She was running now. Her hair whipped behind her as she dashed by paintings, plucking the papers as she did so. A foolish grin was slapped across her features as she was tangled up in her daydream. Pulling hard around a corner, Caroline almost had to fall backwards in order not to collide with the lad standing in front of her. The first thing she noticed was the notepad he clutched in his hand, the next thing was his shocked and worried face.
Aha! So he knows a face of justice when he sees one.
Taking on a powerful stance, Caroline grinned a devilish grin and pointed a finger in his direction. She opened her mouth to tell this guy what’s what, but a terrible sound silenced her up. It was the sound of big, heavy shoes hitting polished floor…and there was more then one. Blinking twice, Caroline peeked around the corner and found that, in the midst of her running, she left a lovely little paper trail behind. A paper trail for two mean-looking security guards to follow…
Giving a squeak, she whipped around and grabbed the boy’s arm and started to make her way towards the exit at a quick pace. As they grew near, that quick pace turned into a run. Then, as if to explain her odd behaviour, she turned to the lad and simply said, "I'm too young to go to jail."
And that was the end of that.
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LITTLE DARLING, I FEEL THAT ICE IS SLOWLY MELTING
little darling, it seems like years since it's been clear
- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - tagged; Kenjiro
lyrics; here comes the sun by the beatles
listening to; Blue Skiesby Frank Sinatra
word count; 816
outfit; Green pull-over sweater, faded jeans, black running shoes.
credit; to brooke from caution |
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Post by KENJIRO KUMETA on Feb 7, 2010 9:16:11 GMT -5
[/color] •••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••• [/center] The wide assortment of paintings and sculptures were getting a little tedious after spending 6 hours in the same art gallery writing down about the artists’ errors. Letting out a rather audible yawn, Kenjiro stuffed his notepad in his jacket’s pocket and spotted a few vases at a distance. A small grin formed across his lips as he walked towards the vases, prepared to correct any error. The only impression ceramic art seemed to induce was the potter’s precision in shaping the vase without leaving any bumps or cracks.
Come to think of it, most of these paintings, sculptures, and potteries didn’t really belong in this area. This museum had more costumes, set designs, and musical instruments of the theatre displayed along side the works of art. Were these works of art here for a limited time? The thought of bringing authentic works of art to one place for a once in a life time viewing seemed very unlikely. From what he could recollect, he spotted a Mona Lisa on display a few paintings back. However, the original portrait was in France, unless Perrugia rose from the dead, stole the portrait once again, and returned it to its home: Italy. Too bad the errors were very noticeable, which made it easy to assume that the painting was false.
This art gallery seemed to be filled with amateur art and brilliant replications of works of art by legendary Italian artists. Now he felt someone guilty and cruel for criticizing the artists who replicated original art. He heaved a sigh and wondered if the artist would be offended with his critique. Kenjiro shrugged and decided that his constructive criticism would be used to the artist’s advantage and may show some signs of improvement in their next work.
Clasping his hands together, he nodded in agreement with his convincing mental statement. His attention returned to the vase as he pulled out a handkerchief and leaned over the velvet rope line trying to wipe off the microscopic smudge. Placing his hand on the metal pole, he inched closer to the vase and started wiping the vase. Kenjiro pouted when he realized that the smudge was not coming off. Perhaps it was part of the vase’s design? He pulled out his notebook and wrote a few compliments as well as a few errors he encountered. Once that was done, he decided to observe the paintings once more.
While listening to a few older folk talk about the exquisite use of color and style, he tapped his index finger against his notepad and blinked a few times. A small girl approached him a few minutes later pointing an accusing index finger at him. He frowned when she opened her mouth to speak. Was there something wrong? Tilting his head to the side, he put his notebook back in his pocket and wondered if she was lost. Closing both of his eyes, he smiled slightly and searched through his jacket’s pockets for his gloves. There was no way he was going to touch a stranger’s hand without his trusty gloves!
Suddenly, the young girl dashed towards him with an alarmed expression on her face. Kenjiro took several steps back and put his hands out in defense. Just what was this girl doing? His eyes shot open when the girl abruptly grabbed his arm and dragged him towards the exit. The tiny brunette was very strong… or perhaps, Kenjiro was just a complete weakling. “Y-Young lady! Just what do you think you are doi---” Kenjiro protested trying to yank his arm away, but before he could finish his sentence he crashed into several people, a few poles, and finally a filthy trash can. Kenjiro cried out in pain as tears streamed down his cheeks, turning around to notice a trail of notebook paper. Wait, were those his papers?!
The reason she was running away was undoubtedly because she littered. She finally spoke up and gave her excuse as to why she grabbed him and ran. She didn’t want to go to jail. Kenjiro used his foot as a brake and managed to slow the girl down until they eventually came to a stop. Kenjiro yanked his arm away and took a few steps back. So much filth in just a matter of seconds, his clean clothes now infested with germs! He placed his right hand to his chest and started hyperventilating. Now was not the time for an anxiety attack! Kenjiro gritted his teeth and started trembling violently. Think of something else! Something positive! There was sign near the exit which read: “Recreation Art Gallery available for the rest of the month!” This probably explained why it was so crowded and large sum of security guards. The water fountains were also rather clean for a public area. Back to reality!
“I think all you’ll get is a scolding for your mistake...” He said to the brunette as he cleared his throat and turned his head to look at trail of papers. Kenjiro frowned and realized that his critique was definitely unappreciated by this young girl, assuming she was the litterbug. Putting his gloves on, he glanced to his side and decided to explain how one would go to jail. “Littering usually includes a fine, but assuming from your reaction that this is your first time... They may just let you off with a warning,” he began his explanation as he put one hand behind his back and walked towards the papers. “You would probably go to jail if you do something really bad like… stealing these paintings!
The blue haired butler decided to pick up all of the papers since it was mostly his fault for writing such criticizing commentary. “Another example would be pointing a gun at someone! Or holding people hostage!” He continued explaining, actually keeping that plastered grin on face while picking up the pieces of papers. “The bad guys usually wear dark clothes and large coats to hide their weapons! Dark glasses, masks, and maybe fedora hats!” Pretty stereotypical description, but he enjoyed watching old movies where the mobsters wore the usual clothing.
Coincidentally, there were a few large men wearing the exact same attire he described observing the art and listening to Kenjiro’s rather loud explanation. “And finally, their usual catch phrase is ‘This is a stick up’ or ‘if you attack us, it’s curtains for the hostage!’” A large hand patted his back as a tall man wearing dark clothing and shades peered over his shoulder. Kenjiro twitched when the stranger’s hand touched his clean jacket. He dropped all the crumpled papers he had gathered, jumped to his feet, and backed up to the wall.
“Thanks for the intro kid, but let a professional handle this.” The man pulled out a gun from his trench coat and fired once at the ceiling to get everyone’s attention. “AWRIGHT, THIS IS A STICK UP!” The man obviously had accomplices among the crowd, but only three of them revealed themselves at the moment. Paranoia filled the young butler’s mind as he turned to look at the little girl who had grabbed him earlier. Could she be one of the accomplices? What if her ‘not wanting to go to jail’ comment was just the first phase to initiate the robbery and his explanation was the final phase?!
Slamming his hands on his head, he shook his head several times and felt his heart race. The people screaming and panicking was not helpful at all, in fact, it was making him anxious. What could their reason for stealing be? The paintings displayed were nothing more than replicas of the original; they couldn’t be worth that much, unless there was one in this gallery that was authentic. There were also a few wealthy people present; could stealing from them be their intention? Exaggerated tears streamed down his cheeks as he tiptoed back to the brunette feeling a little safer near her. She was pretty strong, so she could probably beat up the mean thieves for him… who was he kidding? He wasn’t going to let her fight!
Kenjiro stood in front of the brunette and looked up to the ceiling, trying to hide her from the robbers. “Help… Please…” He muttered to her, putting his hands behind his back and raised his index finger to point at the exit... though, he was technically pointing at her. Kenjiro was certain that the robbers had not noticed her yet and thanks to her small stature, he was able keep her hidden. Now all she needed to do was inconspicuously crawl to the exit and get help. Unfortunately, the girl probably misinterpreted his request… he just hoped she wasn’t going to act like some sort of super heroine and get them both killed. Knowing his luck, it was probably worse.
•••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••• & tag: Caroline~!
♥ word count: 1,470.
♦ muse: Great.
♣ music: Dear My Friend by Elisa.
• comments: Sorry for the wait, busy week! And... Kinda overdid it, been reading too much Detective Conan. D:
< EDIT: Corrected a few grammatical errors, spelling errors, and modified a few sentences that made no sense whatsoever... :\ >
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Post by CAROLINE OLIVE DUBOIS on Feb 19, 2010 17:03:05 GMT -5
 x x - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -LITTLE DARLING, THE SMILES RETURNING TO THE FACESlittle darling, it seems like years since it's been here- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -Caroline nearly tripped over her own feet when she came to the crazy idea of running for the exit. A quick and curious glance was tossed over her shoulder at the boy as her worn sneakers started to accelerate their rhythmic collisions with the polished floor. What was this guy made of? Air? Little Miss Caroline was always known as the small one, the petite one, the weak one, the fragile one and just about every other term to describe someone who was the exact opposite of how the adventurous lass was now: Strong and in control.
This new taste of power was exhilarating. She was used to trying to fight against someone that could hold her at arms length away at ease- never you mind dragging someone by his heels! Breathing in wildly, Caroline allowed this new power to ignite deep within her. It stared from her tummy, and then began to spread. And, before she knew it, there was an unknown power surging within her. It stretched from fingertips to toes.
Suddenly, this burst of untapped energy started to fade away. No, not fade, but pulled. There was a force suddenly drawing all this power away from her and there was nothing that she could do about it. Blinking, Caroline raised her eyes and looked about. The sudden stop cause her to loose all sense of where she was and left her void of any panic and instinct to flee.
“I think all you’ll get is a scolding for your mistake...”
Caroline’s Large brown eyes dragged over to the lad. Oh. She had forgotten all about him. A slight wince made the corners of her eyes twitch. Her forgetfulness was spread all across this lad and he wore it like badge. His clothes- which came off to Caroline as too clean to be normal- gathered some dirt on them and there was some evidence that tears had visited his eyes. Did this lad cry? More importantly, did this lad cry…because of her? Caroline suddenly found it difficult to swallow. Was this how defenders of justice feel when they realize that they did something wrong? She didn’t like it. Not one bit.
Determined to make up for her foul actions, Caroline clasped her hands together and placed an interested face towards Kenjiro. Once in awhile she would nod her head sympathetically, but other then that she stood very still and was very silent. Even though she was sure what the lad was talking about was every bit interesting, the words fluttered right past Caroline without a second thought. Ah yes, the ability to daydream without getting that glazed look over her eyes was a skill that she had perfected years ago. Mainly due to her cello teacher. It has been years since he’s donned on this little trick she had and he just keeps on assuming that she enjoys hearing his long rants about how frustrating it was to be a composer.
However, Caroline was suddenly rooted back to reality when she heard a gunshot. Although she was familiar with the sound, it still rung in her ears with an annoying passion. The lass winced slightly but her body-out of nothing but habit alone- refused to flinch. With a calm face, she surveyed everyone that was running around. There didn’t appear that anyone was hurt and, for that, Caroline was grateful. With a click of her tongue Caroline concluded that the shot was warning shot and no more. Nothing but a trick to create chaos and make it harder for those who had the ability to maintain some order to go about their strategic ways. A shot without an intention to kill showed that there was some mercy from the brute who was holding the gun. Although she would never admit it, Caroline felt a sense of respect due to this. Seeing how she was involved with the Canadian mafia back home, Caroline had seen the less…merciful side of crimes that should never be spoken of again.
“Help… Please…”
Blinking, Caroline has realized that the lad had deliberately stepped between her and the obvious threat in the room. His plea was a soft one, but was truly sincere. In leaning slightly to the side, she was able to spot over his shoulder and saw that his cheek was wet. He was crying again. Almost immediately, that heavily feeling of guilt swelled up inside of her. She needed to protect him. She was a hero of justice- and what has she done so far? Run from the cops and drag this sorry lad with her. She should have her super hero license removed…if there were such a thing as a super hero license, that is.
Wrapping her arms around him, she propped her chin on his shoulder. Her fingers slipped into the pocket where she recalled where his pen was hidden and stated in a quite voice. “Don’t worry about it. Slip out the door when their concentration breaks.” And with that, she slipped away and stood in the middle of the room, the pen up her sleeve.
Was she sure that this plan would work? Hell no. But, she heard rumours that criminals here were more scared of her cousin criminal family then back home. Maybe that’ll give her enough of an advantage to let her walk away unharmed…or, if not, alive would be just as good.
”N ow we got a problem.” "She stated, pinching the bridge of her nose as if she was extremely annoyed.
“We heard that you were moving in on our turf. We thought it wouldn't happen- who would be so crazy as to go against us?” Here, she added in a dry chuckle, the kind that was capable of running a shiver down a full man’s spine.
“But here you are. Now we’ve got a problem, you see? Gentlemen, if you break the rules there will be consequences.” She was started to pace in small circles now, jabbing a thin finger in each of the thug’s directions at the cue of gentleman “Unfortunately, the Boss does not wish to spare you the mercy of letting you walk away- beating or no. Since a small group like yous have been so cocky, the Boss has decided that we need to send a message…and he sent me to deliver this message to you.” Caroline now lifted up her other arm, the tip of the pen hidden in her sleeve, and the thumb place on the button at the other end. “Here’s your last chance, boys. Leave now or be sleeping underneath a healthy blanket of heavy rocks. Your choice.”
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LITTLE DARLING, I FEEL THAT ICE IS SLOWLY MELTING
little darling, it seems like years since it's been clear
- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - tagged; name of character the thread is for
lyrics; here comes the sun by the beatles
listening to; chasing pirates by norah jones
word count; - - - 1,103
outfit; n/a
credit; to brooke from caution |
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Post by KENJIRO KUMETA on Mar 8, 2010 17:15:41 GMT -5
[/color] •••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••• [/center] Everything was moving so fast in this current situation from the criminals coincidentally making their appearance as the butler explained on the same subject to the shrilling shouts of terrified children and adults pleading for their lives. Two of the criminals led the terrified civilians to one end of the room threatening to shoot them dead, a cruel reminder if they chose not to comply. The apparent leader of the group of thieves harshly grabbed the host of the art gallery by the collar and slammed him against the wall demanding the whereabouts of a specific painting. There was no doubt about it now; these men were definitely after an authentic painting. Judging from their appearance they were probably part of an Italian mafia or gang. Then again, theft was forbidden and frowned upon with that type of crowd in order to avoid any form of contact with the police. However, gangsters have been known to break the rules from time to time.
Thankfully, the criminals had not noticed them yet, there was still a chance to escape safely and get help. Jumping slightly at the brunette’s unexpected embrace from behind and a chin propped on his shoulder, Kenjiro started trembling slightly wondering if she was scared as well. Great, he was really hoping that she would be the brave one of the two. It could not be helped. Swallowing a large dose of saliva, he bit his bottom lip and clenched his fists. He was always known for being cowardly, but from today on he would change his ways and protect the weak! Slowly closing his eyes, he heaved a sigh and reached for the young’s shoulder while still having his back turned from her. She did not have to worry anymore; he was going to do his best to protect her, even if that meant his clothes would be stained with his own blood.
“Don’t worry about it. Slip out the door when their concentration breaks.”
That’s right! Once he breaks their concentration, all she would need to do was slip out and call for help. Closing both of his eyes, the blue haired butler nodded to the girl and was ready to sprint towards the leader… but immediately froze in place with an awe-struck expression. “Eeeeeh?!” His jaw dropped when he watched the brave girl abruptly run to her doom. This was not what he had planned! How on earth could his plan backfire like this?! Kenjiro placed his hands to his head, shook his head, and felt his teeth start to chatter. Her sacrifice would not be forgotten; Kenjiro clasped his hands together, bowed his head, and immediately dashed toward the exit. Slamming his gloved hand on the door’s handle, he turned around and watched the girl do some form of impression of … a Mafioso boss?
Tilting his head to the side, he wondered if that was supposed to intimidate the criminals or simply break their concentration. A small bead of sweat trickled down his cheek, he slowly propped the door open once the leader of the group dropped the art gallery host and diverted his attention to the young girl. He seemed very engrossed on the brunette’s speech as if he were interested in her impressions. The large frown and furrowed brows on the man’s face indicated that the girl’s threats were heard but not taken seriously. Kenjiro observed the leader look to the large crowd of people and pointed his index finger at her asking if she was anyone’s daughter. There was no answer.
While the leader contemplated whether to throw her with the other hostages or humor her, a few more thieves revealed themselves among the crowd and carefully took down a painting from the wall. Kenjiro eyed the painting and noticed that it was Botticelli’s The Birth of Venus, he had not reviewed the painting so that was probably authentic. He leaned forward, trying to get a good look of the painting and wondered how much it was worth to simply bring such a valuable painting from Florence to this gallery. Kenjiro turned his attention back to the girl and the thief leader, but was shocked to discover that the girl’s words did not faze him. In fact, a gun was already pointed at the young girl’s forehead. The hostages were begging the thieves to have sympathy and leave the girl alone, but the criminal had reached his boiling point and had a killer instinct.
“Are you fuckin’ with me? Do you think I won’t shoot a bullet through your head?”
There was no hope, the criminal’s patience was lost when he noticed the pen in her sleeves, a thought that prodded his mind questioned if she mocking him. The man’s projecting threats made the butler’s heart stop for a brief second as he felt his whole body start to shake violently. His lips quivered fearing the fate of the poor girl who was willing to risk her life to save him. Kenjiro lowered his head, feeling so disgusted with himself for letting an innocent girl get hurt because he was too much of a coward to fight off the evil villains himself. Gritting his teeth, he raised his head and slammed the door shut, hearing the slam echo throughout the room. The spotlight was directed at him and everyone gave him their undivided attention. He wasn’t going to run away.
Not giving them a moment to react, Kenjiro dashed towards the thief leader with a determined look on his face. For such a weak fellow, he was sure quick on is feet... this would probably be easily explained from the times he constantly ran away from the bully. Unfortunately, this time the dastardly fellow was running to the enemy. Raising his right hand as if he was ready to knock the gun out of the thief leader’s hand, he stomped his foot on the ground coming to a quick stop and glared at the man. How dare he point a gun to a lady’s head! How disgraceful! Shame on him! The criminal leader panicked and switched targets, pointing his pistol at the blue haired butler. His subordinates pointed their guns at him as well, ready to fire if Kenjiro tried anything.
What was he thinking!? Kenjiro turned his body to the side and pointed his index finger at the painting the thieves were taking down. “That painting is a fake!” Exclaimed the petrified butler who was frozen stiff in the same position when he noticed rifles and pistols pointed at him. He let out a nervous laugh and put his right hand behind his head, “ Th-The dimensions are off by a few centimeters! That couldn’t possibly be the authentic painting! Not only that, the use of tempera painting has a slightly contrasting color scheme to the original.” He explained and really had no idea why these words were coming out of his mouth, but there was no way of escaping now. Blinking a few times, he watched one of the thieves measure the painting and nodded to their boss that the anxious butler was correct.
“Please excuse my sister’s misbehavior! But she also caught the errors! She just likes playing games, don’t mind her…” Kenjiro tried to alleviate the brunette’s little stunt with a lie while inching closer to Caroline making sure to stand in between her and the obvious danger. A small yelp escaped his lips when the large thief grabbed him by the collar and pulled him closer asking for the real painting's whereabouts. He held his breath; such a foul stench emanated from the man’s breath as Kenjiro closed his eyes and raised his hands. “I-If I knew, I’d tell you! But I don’t!” The man let him go and decided to storm towards the host or some other employee. The original painting had to be here or this art gallery would have definitely been considered a false advertisement.
Kenjiro whimpered as he turned around and placed his hands on Caroline’s shoulders, “J-Just what were you thinking?! Y-You were supposed to go get help… Not the other way around… You almost got yourself killed.” He whispered to her as he lowered his head and was somewhat relieved that the girl was not harmed. She sort of reminded him of his young lady, Charlotte, who would always run into trouble without thinking. She was probably stubborn just like her; it would really crush him if something bad happened to her. He shook his head and took a deep breath, trying to relax. Now they were both in a pinch.
Eventually, the thieves’ boss returned and tapped Kenjiro’s back with his index finger. “I don’t know who the hell you are, but there is a vault filled with paintings just like that one. The real painting has to be one of them, if you were able to tell the fake one from a mere glance then you’ll find it faster.” Kenjiro turned his head, slowly stood up straight, and nodded slightly. “Let me remind you… If you make an intentional mistake. It’s curtains for the hostages.” The last sentence the criminal spoke made him recall his quoting of the common criminal sayings when he was explaining to the young girl about real ‘bad guys.’ That despicable thief deliberately used that saying to provoke him and put everyone’s lives on his hands. So much pressure for someone who was already anxious enough as it was!
“I'll help you. Just give me 30 minutes.” Words that he would never expect to hear came out of his mouth without hesitation. He was actually willing to help the thieves steal a painting! Grabbing Caroline’s hand he held her close and had a serious look on his face, “I need my sister there as well, she has a very keen eye for detail.” At first the thieves were reluctant at allowing the bold brunette join him, but if it would allow a better performance in finding the painting then they allowed it. Two thieves led the way and Kenjiro made sure not to let go of the her hand. Kenjiro was not going to risk leaving her alone after what just happened.
Kenjiro stared at the large vault and just remembered that he was claustrophobic, he turned around and was ready to run off, “Hold on! Hold on! Couldn’t you just bring the paintings out here?!” Kenjiro flailed his arms around when one of the men grabbed him and dragged him back to the vault. “WHAT IF WE RUN OUT OF OXYGEN!? OH PLEASE DON’T PUT ME IN THERE!” Exaggerated tears streamed down his cheeks as he sobbed loudly while being forced into the vault… so much for being a hero and looking cool in front of the girl. A large bead of sweat slid down the back of the other thief’s head as he nodded to Caroline allowing her to proceed into the vault. Kenjiro was thrown on the ground and was surrounded with pictures of the same painting.
It was no surprise that an authentic painting would never be displayed for public viewing in a gallery other than its own, but the abundant amount of copies was just ridiculous. Perhaps paintings were switched every now and then to keep a fresh appearance… or all these copies were merely here to mislead criminals and prevent situations like these from occurring. However, if the group of thieves were really sent here to steal a valuable painting from this gallery, then the real painting had to be here somewhere.
•••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••• & tag: Caroline~!
♥ word count: 1958.
♦ muse: Great.
♣ music: None.
• comments: Will check spelling / grammatical errors later.
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