"Steal.
Definition term is: take something without permission or legal right without intending to return it.
Too many times have I done such a crime."
–Words from Audrey's
personal journal
____
WASHINGTON D.C. | SMITHSONIAN MUSEUM
IF there's one thing you should know about Audrey Embers among the many other qualities, is that, like many criminals she doesn't listen.
Strains of the Englishwoman's ponytail whipped her face as her head snapped back, distinctly honing her hearing in on footsteps clomping down the hall. The heat of her skin's back warmed the cool wall through her suit as she leaned on it around the corner. Suddenly, she shifts positions to the side, sliding down a door.
Bloody hell, Audrey thought, I feel like Larry Daley, the night guard from Night at the Museum, running from the Huns. Except, this was a guard, not a man in scraps of animal furs. In reality, it was easy prey. Unlike last time...
The woman had waited patiently behind a door for her victim to pass through the long hallways. Their shadow casts down under the door frame, when they finally had ambled on by Audrey. Quietly peeking her head out from the door, the darkly rich coco in her eyes glint stealthily down the long hallway. Such a hallway would have been swarming with civilians during the day; packed and crammed with parents, grandparents, kids, teenagers, lovers, strangers, and multi-cultural persons. Now it was as dead as a ghost.
Audrey's rose bud lips pulled into a wild smirk, bending half her mouth as she sprinted in the opposite direction of the guard.
Time for the real fun to begin.
A malevolent jog was in each crafty sprint as she reached closer to the room she wanted, then, a gradual stop turned into a solid halt as she stepped into the spacious area of one of the Smithsonian's historical art rooms. Several paintings were mounted to the four structural walls closing in the room.
Diligently, Audrey searches for the painting she wanted, when all of a sudden, she fills with delighted joy as her eyesight spot the graphic art she sought for.
The painting was located in the center of the room, carefully laying inside a custom designed glass case. A jolt of new energy evilly pushed her legs towards the painting with hungry desire. Her fingertips itched to gently touch the surface of the case, but she cautiously kept them at her sides, all the while silently analyzing the art with the invisible touch of her eyes.
The French call it 'La Liseuse.' In English, it is of a painting of 'A Young Girl Reading.' The painting itself was an 18th century oil painting by Jean-Honore Fragonard. The portrait was purchased by the National Gallery of Art in Washington, DC in 1961. Which currently, Audrey Embers was about to steal.
No one knew who the girl was in the painting, but it does feature the young lady wearing a lemon yellow dress, a white ruff collar, cuffs, and purple ribbons.
The subject in the picture was reading from a small book held in her right hand, she sat with her left arm on a wooden rail and her back was being supported by a large lilac cushion resting against a wall.
Her hair was nicely tied up in a chignon with only a single purple ribbon through her locks, and her face and dress were lit from the front, casting a shadow on the wall behind her. As meticulous as the mercenary was, Audrey had noticed Fragonard (the artist) payed very close attention to the face, but used looser brushwork on the dress and cushion themselves.
The ruff must have be scratched into the paint with the end of a brush. The horizontal line of the armrest and a vertical line between two unadorned walls provided a sense of space and structure. The work has to be more a genre painting, thought she, than of an everyday scene portrait.
The painting was not a complete academic work in the mysterious eyes of Audrey herself, and probably passed through the hands of several collectors and dealers in France.
The assassin's mother, far back from when her mind would allow her to remember, would bring back glimpses of her and Audrey walking the halls and rooms of some of London's finest art museums. Audrey's sweet mother, Evelyn, would dedicate her time to her children, teaching them the importance of the little things in life and that of the large things. Or maybe, it had more to do with the fact that her mother loved to paint?
All the same, Evelyn's interests in graphic paintings bored her to tears at such a young age, but now benefited her in useful ways, illegally.
Eating more detail away, she looked at the painting one last time before dipping into taking it. Four solid screws held the square case together, and the picture safely inside. Well, as safe as they thought it would be. Slipping her favored silver knife from the thigh belt strapped around her leg, the dagger acted as a screwdriver. A small sensor was built into the glass. If someone (like Audrey) were to try and open it without the proper authority, an alarm would soon blare off.
By the time she removed the glass lid, she would have a minute until cops showed up, and fifteen seconds before the guards would ever know where the sensor was being triggered. If she were to move fast enough, although she always was, she could get the entire painting and herself out without having to deal with two of those time consuming things.
Having all the screws successfully out, her fingers lift either sides of the glass. Seconds before she fully took off the lid, she breathed in from her nose. The lid came off, and the alarm came on.
a.n
Hello lovelies! I think this whole "readers don't like authors' notes" is a myth lol. I'm finding each time I do write one of these silly notes, people comment. So...I guess readers don't care??
Also before I go, I'm thinking every time I write one of these notes I'm gonna have a question of the day (QOTD) sort of thing near the end. I'd love to get to know some of my readers, and what better way? So let's get started!
Q o t d: do you normally read fan fiction, or non fan fiction stories?
I think I stared out with reading any kinds of books on here, then branched off into loooads of awesome fan fiction ♥️
That's it for now, thanks for reading!
-Kristy xo
YOU ARE READING
A Reckless Soul | Captain America ✓
Fanfiction"Come at me like a real man, or does your religion not allow you to spill blood?" She laughed and further lowered her lips to his ear, whispering, "You're weak and pathetic Captain." *** She was r...
