Dreamkeepers Forums - Profile of Fiskerton
|Quote: "There's nothing a quick wit won't get you"|
|Motive: The thrill of breaking into highly-guarded areas|
|About: Footfalls were heard down the hallway, shoes echoing on the marble tiling. The imposing guards immediately stood straight and readied their weapons. Well-trained canine eyes and ears focused on the hallway intersection, muscles tense. They didn't receive a visitation notice today, and the room they were guarding held things too precious for a casual visit. The footfalls kept an even pace with no intent to be hidden. It couldn't be a thief, could it? The sound grew closer and an unknown fox rounded the corner. He had his hands by his side, no weapons held. But that didn't mean no threat.|
"Hey there," he said with a grin on his face, friendly yet cocky. He waved. The guards sneered and trained their weapons on the fox.
"Step away, civilian. You are not allowed to be here." For emphasis, one of the guards cocked his gun.
The grin never faltered. "Really? What do you keep in there? Is it valuable?" The fox stepped forward.
"Stop right there! Don't take another step," a guard shouted.
"But I just want to take a look." A faint blue halo appeared above his pointed grey ears and his light blue eyes glowed. "I promise I won't touch anything. Please?" He pouted slightly and lowered his ears in a begging position.
The guards exchanged looks; their eyes were slightly glazed over. "Alright, go ahead in. But don't touch anything."
His muzzle split into an ear-to-ear grin, sharp teeth flashing. "Thanks, boys. I owe you for this," he said, patting one of the guards on the chest as he walked beyond them and opened the door. "Oh, and uh, don't tell anyone I was here, alright?"
The guards nodded, grinning like foxes.
Growing up in the Sabatton Towers was boring and tedious. The son of a politico, his busy father had no time for him growing up and his mother died during childbirth, leaving Fiskerton with large amounts of free time in which to do absolutely nothing. Even though he was expressly forbidden to, he ditched his nannies and snuck out often, learning the ins and outs of the city and generally causing mischief with the street rats. During his teenage years, he accidentally came across a smuggling team working to bring Scinter's Mark into the city that botched the operation. Stormtroopers were close and they were desperate. With his knowledge of the area, Fiskerton decided to help them escape, and they in turn decided to take him with them. He entered the smuggler's life and never looked back.
Several years later, he ran across the maker of the Mark himself: Scinter. He didn't think much of him. However, Scinter did think a lot of him as the Troika have heard of his powers through the smugglers. He was offered a position in Troika intelligence and given the whole Nightmare and heroes spiel by the goody goody two-shoes Igrath.
"Yeah yeah, whatever, Nightmares," the fox said, rolling his eyes. "But what do I get out of it?"
Igrath gave a nonplussed look at Scinter.
"How about the opportunity to break into government buildings and steal rich peoples' stuff?" the lizard replied.
The fox's eyes lit up at the thought and he grinned his trademark cocky grin.
"Where do I sign?"