So my dear friend Mae and I were on the losing side of an AU week vote, but we already had this thread in mind, so we're going to go ahead and play it out here~
So please, if you aren't her, don't comment.
Her hair was her one weakness.
The rest of her was fine--more than fine, if she were being honest. She was strong and fast and quiet. She was patient. She was small, yes, and thin, but not abnormally so. That just made people overlook her, underestimate her, without ever noticing her. Even better, she hadn't started developing, so with a hat and a change in shirts she could switch genders at a moment's notice.
But her hair. Sure, if she were pretending to be a boy she'd have it tucked up under a hat, but she didn't want to look like a boy all the time and hats inevitably became hot and itchy. But the bright red color, no matter how often she heard envious comments from other girls, was just annoying. It didn't blend in.
People remembered red. And when you were nicking wallets, the last thing you wanted to be was memorable.
She resisted the urge to scratch at her scalp. She couldn't risk letting some of the hair slip out from under the knit cap, but was it ever uncomfortable. At least it was winter, so she wasn't sweating under it.
She glanced through the crowd again, considering her intended mark. She almost felt bad, picking him. He didn't look to be much older than her, if at all, and he certainly didn't look flush. But his would be the easiest to snatch, and his youth meant that he'd be more likely to have cash. Natalya hated messing with cards. At best any smart person would only use a nicked card once, and even then it was best to only use it on necessities that could be bought in bulk and wouldn't draw attention before abandoning it for someone else to find.
So she waited, just a moment more, until the perfect moment presented itself. Then she closed, teasing the wallet out of the kid's back pocket with two fingers, and continued on, weaving her way through the crowd to get as many people between them as she could.
- She's not a match-girl, nor a jilt