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fate's design
act i , sticks and stone
chapter one , a healer who harms

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       ALTHEA TOBIN HATED CROWS.

It was terribly ironic of her, but she did. She had long campaigned to rename her beloved Crow Club as something a little more tasteful. However, due to a certain bastard of the Barrel having a fondness for the gothic creature, she'd always been rebuffed.

"For Saint's sake, get off!"

An angry squawk echoed in response to the sharp kick the crow received from having pecked at Thea's feet.

Another swooped over her head, its feet landing upon her shoulder as it made to peck at her. With a loud almost-growl, the girl writhed violently and shook off the menacing bird.

She could hear its small heart beating beneath its breast of feathers, she clenched her jaw and resisted every urge that told her to stop their beating where she stood.

It had happened before. Kaz hadn't said anything but from the fact he'd assigned her as look out on their next four jobs, she assumed he was less than impressed with her.

       With another disgruntled cry, Thea threw her waffles to the ground and break into a light jog, leaving the crows happily squawking in the alley behind her pecking at the cobbled ground.

       See, while Althea Tobin hated crows, they adored her.

      On this occasion perhaps it might have been due to her less than charitable donation of waffles, but aside from that, there was something about her that attracted the pesky birds.

      Jesper had theorised it was perhaps their similar connection to death — the gothic birds that flew in murders and loomed in graveyards, the Grisha assassin, a Healer who harmed.

       A dagger had slammed into the tabletop in response to his theory, only just missing the sharpshooter's hand. Althea had warned him that should he ever think it wise to compare her to a crow again, the next time his hand wouldn't be so lucky.

      Then again, perhaps he wasn't so wrong about it. Although, Thea would never let him know that. The sharpshooter's head was already so big, it was a wonder that any hat in Kerch could fit it.

The sky was overcast and the hour was late and the cobbled stones of the pavement glistened from the day's rain in the meagre light of the hanging lanterns that burned low, as Thea bustled her way threw the busy alleyways.

Ketterdam never slept. In hours such as these, the streets were at their busiest, and consequently their most vulnerable.

It was Thea's favourite hunting ground.

Her eyes narrowed as she tried to separate prey from fellow predator — although, that was a rather difficult task, no one in Ketterdam was a saint. The notion of innocence was awfully rare, but luckily for Thea, ignorance was not.

A small smirk when she spotted him; a round man bumbling his way along the cobbled streets, clutching a briefcase tightly to his side as he bustled through the crowd. A large bowler hat sat on his head, and a great moustache lined his top lip, however Thea's eyes were far more focused on the priceless watch that hung loosely on his wrist.

Manoeuvring her way through the crows expertly, she willed her legs to move fast and braced herself for impact as she forced herself to collide with the gentleman.

He gave a yelp of surprise as his briefcase fell to the floor, and begin furiously mumbling to himself as Irina moved down to pick it up.

"Watch yourself, girl." The man scowled as she returned his case into his grasp, moving to hold his arm in apology.

"I'm so sorry, sir." She replied, feigning humility, as guided his watch off his wrist and into her grasp, concealing it from view.

The man merely shook her off and gave a disgruntled huff before continuing on his way, far more focused on his briefcase than the watch now missing from his wrist.

Thea dropped her facade no more than a second after the man had shaken her off, her feigned look of apology's transforming into a smirk of success as she tossed the weighty watch in hand, before turning on her heel and continuing on her way.

        "Tobin."

        A shout stopped the thief in her tracks, and with an amused chuckle, she turned her head slightly to see two large men lingering at the side of the street, twirling revolvers in their grip as they stared her down.

       "Evening, gentlemen." She greeted, plastering on a pleasant smile, placing her new watch onto her wrist as she took a few slow steps towards them.

       "You're on Pekka's turf."

       Another chuckle left her lips, the symbol of a feral cat curled into a crown emblazoned upon their jackets had been the first thing she'd noticed, however she was also well acquainted with these particular members of the Dime Lions.

       "Relax, boys. Just passing through."

       "In such a hurry?"

       "I can see where I'm not welcome." She shrugged, arching an eyebrow as the taller of the two men took a step toward her.

       "Oh, you're very welcome."

       "Fillip." The other warned his partner, Thea knew him to be Patrik.

       "Since you're on our parts, perhaps you can send a message to Brekker for me?" Fillip offered, tucking his revolver away.

        "What a shame it is, I don't work for you." Thea mused, reciprocating his taunting action. "You have a message for Brekker, tell him yourself."

      A moment of silence passed between them as she pursed her lips in challenge.

       "Or are you too frightened of the thought of stepping on the Dregs territory?" She asked, a small smirk creeping onto her lips. "We all know what happened last time. How is poor Darian?"

       "He'll be a lot better when you tell us what in Ghazen's name you did to him?" Patrik stepped in, his nostrils flaring at which Irina only continued to smirk.

      "An artist never tells the secrets of her work."

       "You won't be chuckling when Pekka gets involved." Patrik continued, trying to square up to the girl who only continued to chuckle at his meagre attempt of a threat.

        "You and I both know Pekka won't care for the loss of one man." She retorted with a knowing chuckle. "I hate to tell you this but none of you are particularly irreplaceable. There are a dozen other sacks of muscles in the Barrel looking for employment."

       The two men before her didn't do a particularly excellent job at hiding their anguish — she always did have a talent for antagonising the opposition.

       "That's the difference between the Dregs and the Dime Lions." She mused, lowering her voice, tauntingly. "You're all one and the same, I'm one of a kind."

       "You Dregs really like to run your mouths, don't you?" Patrik retorted, his jaw still clenched tightly. "Brekker will get sick of you, one day."

       "Brekker got sick of me years ago." Thea shrugged, before giving a tut. "But as I said, you don't dispose of the indisposable. Give my love to Darian, won't you?"

"You're not going anywhere, Tobin."

As she moved to walk away, Filip had chuckled at her as stepped in her way, and she could sense Patrik doing to same behind her, blocking her means of escape. Yet, she simply gave a tired sigh.

"Oh, I really hoped you wouldn't be so predictable. Yet, here we are." She placed her hand on her lips, and arched an eyebrow at the tall man. "Go on Filip, give it a go."

He didn't need to be told twice, as he reached inside his coat and drew his revolver. However, Thea had done same except withdrew a dagger from the lining of her sleeve. She never knew why Dime Lions insisted on using long range weapons in close proximity — it was almost as though they begged for defeat.

       She quickly reached forward and grabbed his gun bearing arm and twisted it sharply, he let out a yelp of pain and pulled the trigger. Thea darted out of the way of the shot, and saw it skim Patrik's shoulder as she turned.

       Using the momentary distraction, Thea gripped onto Filip's arm for leverage and swung around, brandishing her dagger and aiming a strike at Patrik's wrist causing him to drop his own revolver and let out a strangled shout.

      She could hear the blood pumping beneath his wound from where she stood, and willed it to bleed more profusely than it otherwise would have done. Patrik dropped to the floor, clutching his wrist as Irina turned around and dodged a punch from Filip.

      Letting out a light grunt, she let his arm go and threw all her energy into a well aimed kick at his groin. She watched as he keeled over, leaning for support on the wall of the alley, groaning in agony.

      The blonde let out a tired sigh, blowing a stray strand of her hair from her face as she looked on the two men on the ground.

       "As I said, disposable." She muttered, a small smirk crossing her face at the sight of the pooling blood running along the cobbled stones.

       She took a glance at her new watch and gave a small shake of her head.

      "Is that the time?" She muttered aloud, ignoring their persistent low groans before giving another loud tut. "Well, gents, you've made me late."

𝖙𝖗𝖎𝖓𝖆 𝖘𝖕𝖊𝖆𝖐𝖘!
only an introductory
chapter, but still!