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Vice or Virtue
Moscow twinkled like a fat diamond in a jewellery box.

Visha was dressed as dark as the night sky, from the tips of her boots to the high collar about her throat. Gloves smoothed her from hands to elbow, the palms and fingers embedded with haptics. She had always been particularly sensitive to touch, and had never enjoyed the obstruction. As a child she had often complained it felt like being blindfolded, much to the bemusement of her minders. At least until her tantrums solved the issue with a gift-wrapped solution. In those days her tears had been more dangerous than her touch. These days it was all one and the same.

The cityscape was a delectable playground. Mostly she avoided the streets and people with a predator’s dedication to invisibility, testing the limits of instincts and abilities she didn’t even understand she had. The burning pump of muscles, her racing heart, the coil and leap that felt like flying. She climbed with unusual ease. Spooled into shadows like she’d been born in them.

Tonight her path took her to the street of a lavish storefront. Her favourite one. Silk and velvet and cashmere draped the elegant mannequins in front. She’d been here before. Several times actually, though she kept her visits spaced apart. She was fairly certain Ephraim would clean up any necessary messes, though she would rather he and Paragon remained ignorant to her night-time escapades for as long as possible. The freedom made her dizzy and euphoric and she didn’t want to lose it.

Visha scaled the wall with ease to wait, tucked her legs in close, and found a perch to peer down from. She knew the security routines by rote by now.

Raffe’s stories buzzed around in her mind. She watched intently, rested her chin in her arms, and smiled.

When the last employee left, Visha dropped down silently.

[[This thread is open. She will be stealing some new threads and heading to Kallisti. After that I plan to cause this news headline (doesn't matter which club she ends up at)]]

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