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Getting kidnapped to attend a ball is just as bad as Jurard thought it'd be.
Seriously, the amount of ridiculous procedures he's had to endure in the past 48 hours is baffling and all because his parents decided getting him back and organising a coming of age ball is necessary.
Granted, his debut when he was younger was much more extravagant, with nobles attending because he was a prince and to build connections, and also to see if their next ruler was worth overthrowing... or something. Allegedly, they came for that. Haha.
He sighs. Thinking back on the past is not his style and never has been. Especially in the Badlands, the place he now calls home, where nothing you'd done matters when you're getting chased by a 5 meter corruption beast and 2 hunters looking to cut your head off for a bounty at all times.
Looking around, it isn't hard to spot people he knows, at least as a prince. As always though, his eyes fall on their clothes, jewels sparkling in the chandaliers light and decorating the surroundings with colourful lights. Their personalities really aren't as glamorous.
A sip of champagne and fixing of his suit fully convinces him that acting on his ideas is sure to pay off, not that he needed much convincing.
The charisma he has comes in handy in all types of situations, but only when scamming does it truly shine. Though really that's just his subjective opinion, based on evidence like managing to stave off the bounty hunters after him for days or recruiting probably the three strongest hunters in South Elysium.
Reminiscing of his time in the desert, a plan formulates in the back of him mind, on how to escape and go back. ARMIS after all, has no idea he's here.
He was kidnapped in the middle of the day yes, but those guys mostly pay attention to themselves and money, so they probably don't even know he's gone yet.. It is quite normal for them to not see each other for longer periods of time as well, especially Ruze, but that might be because he hates (loves) them so much.
Back to his idea though, he walks to the side of the dance floor with purpose, capturing the eyes of many immediatelly. Truly, his charisma works wonders.
A girl of shorter stature approaches him, acting bold and prissy by showing off her status with gems and embellishments. All of her jewelry jingles as she walks, catching everyones attention, though not in a good way.
If Jurard of all people is able to lecture her about correct attire for a ball, then it's very likely she's doing something wrong. Alas, he doesn't care enough about her to point it out, much more interested in those expensive looking jewels.
"Prince Rexford, allow me to introdce myself." She talks from behind her fan, expression full of courage. Her hand is lifting one side of her skirt and she goes into a half bow sort of pose before straightening.
Jurard can only hear the snarky comments Ruze would make if he saw her, rather then whatever she says. He quickly stops her introduction, aiming to capture her favor immediatelly.
"Ah, Daughter of the nearby Dukedom..." He wracks his brain for a name, sweating a bit when he can't remember it. Shit.
Her eyes widen expectantly, and he already knows he's screwed if he doesn't save this somehow. He's already been quiet for too long. "Well your status isn't nearly as unforgettable as your beauty, if I do say so myself."
The cheesy line that only someone of his position could pull off nearly makes him cringe, but he goes with it. Those gems are practically calling his name and he'll do anything to get his claws on them.
He holds out his hand, making sure to shrink his claws to as small as they go. Despite the Dinosaur DNA being an important part of his lineage, people don't particularly like being scratched to bits. Only in one of those fighting competitions his parents host, to show off the strength of the family or something.
The girl, succesfully enraptured more so by his face then the line, takes his hand gently. He bends down to place a polite kiss on her knuckles, as is custom, before strolling with her onto the dance floor.
The music changes to a more comfortable pace and volume, but it's not enough to hide Jurards loud voice and booming laughter while he converses with his dance partner. It also covers up his winces, as she seems to not be so great at dancing. His toes are already begging to stop getting stomped on.
It's a very textbook definition of polite and he tries to make it more comfortable by speaking casually, but the girl seems ticked off within 5 seconds of it, hating it. Jurard fails to notice any of it, the pain from heels stabbing his feet keeping him occupied. With all eyes on them though they continue walzing around the stage, long dress hiding the girls awful footwork and path cleared wherever they go.
When he finally notices her expression he blanches a bit, but quickly forces the anxiedy down. He can always get out of a tough spot, even if that tough spot is usually a near death situation or comical fail.
Taking the lead more forcefully, he shuts up and quietens down, instead leaning close to her and whispering. "Let me show you off yeah?"
Clearly he hit the jackpot with that line, his dance partner allowing him to actually dance to the fullest with bows and twirls. She clearly desires the attention, if the jingling of the dress is any indication.
The music that accompanies them quickens to match their new pace, with guests shuffling off to the side so they can comfortably watch the duo. They gasp when Jurards hand touches her waist and squeezes her hand, unaccustomed to the prince's bold style.
Murmurs fill the area, wonder floating through the air and infecting everyone with a feeling of giddiness. They realise that that could be them next, that they could be shown off by a prince of the biggest kingdom in South Elysium and heighten their social status easily.
Jurard, knowing what's going through their minds, ignores the greed of others and instead focuses on his own.
The quicker movements and close physical contact allows him to snatch a few gems here and there, letting their absence go unnoticed. He smirks triumphantly whenever he pulls it off, enjoying the thrill of his scam coming to fruition in broad daylight.
Even as the dance ends, bodies slowly coming to a stop and recieving applause for their preformance, his adrenalin high continues. Immediatelly after escorting her off the stage another willing parter comes up and he can't help but accept with a wide smile when he sees the big and expensive looking ring on the hand offered to him.
---
Multiple dances later, the stares turn to be too much.
He can accuratelly pinpoint which elder guests don't agree with anything he's doing even though he's technically done everything right the entire evening... well accept for the looting part but that doesn't matter right now.
Also, even with the stares being in the tens, he's sure three have been folowing him almost the entire time.
Call it a developed hunter sense, but he's been acutely aware that exactly three of the. have been relentlessly boring into him for the past few hours with no break.
He sweats as he finishes dancing with his last dance partner nervous as to what it could mean. He ignores the way his partner dries off their hands slighlty disgusted, because he's so preoocupied with the feeling. He usually only gets it in the Badlands, the place where he gets hunted near daily because of his shenanigans.
Even when he leaves the ball room the hairs on hisneck keep standing, so he's those people must be outside and looking in. Despite having better vision then most he wasn't able to spot them and that means they're incredibly dangerous.
Fuck. Even if he somewhat hates this place, it's still his family.
Touching the gun hidden underneath his coat, he makes sure it's loaded just in case this comes to a confrontation. He knows the layout of this castle like the back of his hand, having been a horror in his younger years because of finding hidden rooms and new pathways all the time.
Even if he doesn't feel those stares anymore, it's better to be prepared if Gibby has taught him anything. Thankfully, the stares were only angled at him, so he should be able to sort this out on his own.
Going along the hallway, he keeps an eye out on the big windows. It's a hazard, but as this is a castle meant more for showing off wealth, it's not really meant to be assasin proof. He thinks he sees a couple of blurry figures run past, but it's so quick that he almost thinks he imagines the blur of red, green and blue.
Seriously do all assasins just dress like peacocks these days? He's had so many try and catch him, only for them to fail miserably because of being caught by animals who thought they were prey or mates. All of them are definitelly from the richer parts of South Elysium, as no one in the badlands would wear such fabrics.
Accept for maybe... wait.
No. No way. Red, green and blue? He's just having unrealistic hopes. Totally.
He doubles down on his suspicion. Nope, he's not gonna fall for an obvious trick! That'd just be ridiculous.
Even when he says that, his steps quicken and fill the halls with clicks of his shoes against the marble. The way to his chambers isn't far and his straying mind has already made him forget to hold onto his gun tightly.
The doors to his chambers is heavy and giant, one of the biggest in the castle. It's a luxury he only has because he's a prince and successor to the throne.
Heavy wood creaks from age as Jurard pulls them open, stumbling into his room quickly and looking around to try and spot-
"BAHAHAHA!!" Loud melodic laughter fills the air the second his eyes land on a fammiliar dark blue coat and magenta eyes. His hand loosens around his gun even more, nearly dropping it.
"Well look who came here." The rough voice always annoying and taunting him fills the room along with the laughter from the puppeteer, tan hand moving to catch the laughing guy about to fall off the bed, along with the third and final person from the three who invaded Jurards room.
"Heya there Prince Charming~" The cocky smirk only serves the make the statement sound more embarassing, making Jurard sputter and rush to defend himself, not that it's coherent due to his heart feeling like it's bursting. He quickly pockets his gun so it doesn't fall and break.
"Y-YOU GUYS!" He completelly ignores that fact that they've snuck onto private property, of the royal family no less.
Tears prick at the corner of his eyes. He truly didn't think they'd remember he existed for a few days at least, but it's only been one and a half they've already found him.
Rushing to the bed, he rucks off his shoes as he jumps onto it and the three guys he calls friends. All three let out little punched out sounds due to an entire grown man throwing himself onto them without a care in the world, the gems hidden away in his clothes making the contact all the more uncomfortable.
The prince is quickly wrapped up in a soft sidehug from Goldbullet, getting pats on the head from Octavio and awkward pokes from Ruze into his shoulder.
It's so them he forgets about the pain in his feet for a while, blabbering on.
"You noticed!" He happily exclaims, the stress of the evening melting off his shoulders. "How did you know I was here? How'd you find me? Were you three the ones giving me the heebie-jeebies-"
"The what-"
"-the whole evening? Who even let you in?!"
The questions spilled out non-stop, not letting anyone actually answer him due to it's continuity. He only does so when the squeeze on his shoulder gets his attention, Gibby directing him to look at Ruze.
The man in question has his arms crossed in front of himself, a somewhat impatient expression on his face. Jurard can still hear Octavio giggling to himself, though he isn't sure why it's been going on for so long. Was it something he said?
"First off," Ruze says, "we got here because we took Goldies van. Second, the house was too quiet. Of course we noticed you were gone."
A little murmur from Ruze follows ("I was actually able to sleep at our tavern for once.") but Jurard can't hear what he said, too happy about ARMIS noticing his absence, even if it wasn't because they actually care.
"I'll yell the second I come back alright? Don't you worry Ruze!"
"I WASN'T." Ruze spits the comment out just as quickly as Jurard does his, and Jurard feels more at home right now then he ever did during this whole kidnapping thing.
"As for the stares that gave you a scare, that was us." Gibby's voice fills his ears, the comfortable tone overshadowing all of the unpleasant voices from earlier in the ball. Posh or high accents can't compare to this.
Said man pinches his cheek, laughing when Jurard nearly jumps from his own skin because of the pain with a "YEOWCH-" and shuffles away from him on the large bed. A prince's chamber is enough from 8 people at least with how luxurious it is.
"Your skills have been getting better dude. A few months ago, you would've forgotten to prepare your weapon or check your surroundings." It seems nothing can escape the hawk-like eyes of Goldbullet. His reputation as one of the deadliest hunters truly isn't made up, with all the details he managed to catch from at least 20 meters away and through glass.
"Well I am THE Jurard T. Rexford after all! None could compare to my skill now!" Jurard exclaims, boyish wonder invading his voice and Gibby can't help but crack a smile at him. It's likely that only the sniper could find the three deadly hunters he has as teammates cute.
Goldbullet was his first companion and the one who taught him how to actually live in the Badlands through something else other then scams and half assed praying. Helped him with stabilising himself even further in the deserts and helped him train. Even helped him recruit their two other members.
One of which has finally finished laughing it seems.
"Ooooh my goodness! The guards dinoboy, the guards!" With another snicker Octavio makes himself comfortable on the bed, as if he was made for such luxury despite having lived in the rugged desert for years now.
Jurard tilts his head to the side in question. The guards here aren't half bad, they work for the royal family after all, but could be much too prim and proper for his taste.
"They were so easy to control, they felt like my puppets! Truly, I'm grateful to have worked with them." The puppeteer says, the wording giving Jurard another round of shivers.
"Uhhh.. please tell me you left them alive." Even with how happy the prince is leaving people for dead, he wouldn't want to kill those guys, at least not the ones at the gate. They actually do their job well, at least that's what he heard from his parents. And they tried to stop the shady caravan he was brought back in.
The offended gasp he gets is theatric and played up, Octavio having way too much fun teasing him. "Of course dummy! The guards at the top of the lookout towers though..."
Jurard gulps. Those guys would've been a problem if his teammates wanted to spy on the ballroom from outside.
"Well let's just say controlling corruption is my specialty! Getting them to do my bidding was a piece of cake." Octavio ends his sentance with a slightly creepy smile, though ARMIS would argue at least half of his smiles are that way.
"Because of records corruption right?" Jurard remembers that Octavio uses corruption to control. Though that's all he remembers. Any other specifics the puppeteer might've mentioned were lost on him.
The sickly sweet smile he gets as an answer creeps him out more then the idea that the guy might've turned the whole castle into one of his puppet shows.
"What the hell dude?! Cut it out!"
"Come on now Tavi, don't scare our leader like that.." Goldbullet sighs, slapping Octavio up top the head lightly and tsking disapointedly. "We just payed them a couple coins from your stash Jurard."
"It was so easy getting to them!" The puppeteer adds on.
Jurard sighs, content that the corruption here did not mean the corruption they often met out in the desert. The castle and the city are highly protected with multiple magical bariers and lots of safety regulations, so corruption getting through would've been a mystery. Still though, he's glad that they could use some of his money-
Wait. His money?
"HEY YOU ASSHOLES-"
"DON'T BLAME US FOR USING YOUR SHIT! YOU WERE THE ONE THAT GOT KIDNAPPED."
And suddenly the comfortable almost cuddle pile got broken up, with Jurard now chasing Octavio around the room and getting yelled at by Ruze and watched by Goldbullet.
After a few steps though he trips, feet numb from the pain of getting stepped on for multiple hours. He yelps as he nearly face-plants and again lets out a sound of relief when he hovers mid air in some strings.
"Wooow~" The one holding him muses, heels clacking against the expensive tile and sounding just like the high and mighty dance partners he took earlier. "Leader you've gotten kinda clumsy in just a day!"
Jurard clenches his teeth. "You try getting stepped on by dumb princesses and princes who can't dance! Their heels hurt like hell!"
It seems Octavio takes a bit of pity on him, floating him back to the bed and throwing him on it like a ragdoll. Guess he can't have everything.
"You should've just avoided the unskilled and prissy ones, not gone after every sparkly gem you saw." The puppeteer sounds as if he's talking from experience, though with the way he hides his past and dresses like the Elysian equivalent of a Victorian child, with the tastes to match, Jurard wouldn't be surprised if he was.
The halfling huffs, leaning against the bed now that his backrest (Goldbullet) went to get something. "Well those gems are gonna be paying the bills later, so you should watch your mouth."
"You sure you got enough to pay it all?" Ruze grins, not believing Jurard in the slightest.
"Of course! I would never make such a claim without evidence!"
He would in a heartneat if he was pulling off a scam. But he isn't, so it's not a lie this time.
Taking off his suit, he empties all the pockets he has. There's a few hidden ones that are full to the brim, so he empties those first, followed by the outer ones. Then his pant pockets and after that, some accesories he put on his coat, since they blended in with his own jewelry.
At first it's a small pile, but by the time Gibby returns from who knows where with some first-aid, it's a pretty sizable pool of gems, pins, jewelry, even an earring or two and one pearl necklace. It's made up of many colors, a testament to how many people he actually danced with.
"See? Definitelly enough. I could even add value to it by saying who it's from." Jurards eyes sparkle with greed and glee as he picks up some pieces and looks at them underneath the light. They shine brilliantly, some of the light being accidentally directed straight at Goldbullets eyes.
"Stop that."
"Whoopsie, sorry~"
"Do you even remember which is from who?" Octavio quiestions this time, sitting back down on the bed, now without his coat. He once again looks like he belongs in the rich fabrics, even more so then Jurard. It kinda offends him, since he's the actual prince here.
As Jurard goes on and on about his incredibly boring princly studies and how he had to remember all the noble houses, even their names, his three teammates take it up themselves to wordlessly help with his "injuries". Scratches from nails and sharp fancy rings on his hands and wrists, the bruises on his feet all get some salve applied and cared for.
It feels like he's home once more.