Summary:Captain Cold and Heatwave pay Eve a visit. Log Info:Storyteller: {$storyteller} |
Related LogsTheme Song{$themesong} |
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"Hey, keep up, hot stuff." Snart whispers back across her shoulder toward the man who was working with her tonight. One floor down, another to go. This one, this was the one she wanted to get to by night's end. In parka and visor, cold-gun at the ready, the dark lipped ice princess works her way down the hall way. The cameras were out, she'd seen to that already, and regardless of the riches this building held, it was somewhat standard in security.
Room found, she licks her lips and sets her gun back against her thigh, held securely with its maglocks. Wiggling her fingers, she begins working on the lock. "Just one more stop and then we'll hit up whatever joint you fancy." She promises Mick.
His own heavy jacket worn, the man in tow was basically Lena's opposite in every way. Big, shaved head and carrying a gun that could unleash enough heat to melt steel in moments, Mick gives a little grunt and turns his back to watch the path behind them just in case someone was unlucky enough to stumble their way. "What's so special about this place anyway?" he comments.
"Been a while since we hit a house…at least not one without a big vault." He frowns, his gun lesting against his own side but gripped in tight in his beefy hand. "Somethin' fancy inside?"
Inside, a particular Goth is flopped on her sofa, a bowl of popcorn in her lap. She's has a few days off work and she has spent that time binging, well… everything. She lacks the requirements foisted on most biological beings with no need to eat or sleep, though she /is/ perfectly capable of either one should she choose to.
But why sleep when you can watch *every* Columbo mystery ever?
'Just one more thing', she mouhts right along with PEter Falk's detective, tossing a few pieces of popcorn into her mouth. LEonard Nimoy is then busily being awful on her screen.
The lighting of the interior is dim and, indeed, there is no special security. She hasn't generally had any need for it.
"Mmhmm. Can't tell you what yet. I want it to be a surprise." Let no one say that cut-throats can't be sweet when they want to be. "Worth a great deal. You know what? It's all for you, too." The lock gives smoothly, and pulling back she slips her tools away into an inner pocket of her jacket. Dragging up her hood, fur-lined and warm, she reclaims her gun and then motions toward the barrier standing between them and loot. "Shall we?"
"I can roll with that," he muses, chuckling a little to himself. Truth be told, he'd probably follow along anyway. After all, without a plan and a job to do? He'd just end up getting bored, probably burn something down and then ending up worse off or dead. Nodding his head, he gestures towards the door and reaches to give it a little shove before leaving the arm extended. "After you then…"
The TV is loud enough that the two of them will no doubt hear it from the hallway when they enter, the dim lightning of it flashing at the end of it. Clearly, Eve doesn't need many lights on, though her laughter can be heard a short distance away, so they'll certainly know that SOMEONE is awake. How can you not laugh at some parts of Columbo, right?
CRUNCHING and then an uttered, 'Shit' after she drops a few pieces of popcorn.
Lena Snart was a girl of plans. She studied her marks, set them out so methods could work and flow. This was different. Stepping in and eyeing Mick, she quirks a brow and places a gloved finger against her lips. Glancing down the hall, she licks her lips and starts walking down its length. Her steps are counted and silent and a hand reaches back, warning Mick to stay in place. He was, well, not as light footed as she was, after all. Even if the soles of said boots were rather chunky. She counts down, fingers up and curling down. 5-4-3-2…
Stepping out and pointing toward the sofa, its triangular barrel glows faintly with three dancing lines of connecting energy. "Easy now. Sit tight and I'll be on my way. You have something I want and you…" There's a pause and a glare. "What the hell. Why are you here, too?"
Well, now it was a hold-up. At least it wasn't a bank…although that itself was kinda disappointing. A nod, a shrug, the man reaches down to grip his scarf and pull it upwards to mask his face like some classic outlaw. He'll wait for a moment, wait for Lena to talk and then simply advance, little more then a massive silhouette outside the light cast by the TV.
Eve is completely caught off guard. Flabbergasted.
"Are you /kidding/ me?" she manages to stammer out after a moment. "THIS IS MY APARTMENT." She jabs a pointy fing3er at the pair of them. She is completely unthreatening as she declares, "You better leave right now before I, uh…" She looks around. There is a distinct lack of living things present. "…get really upset."
"I didn't know that. Guess it pays nice to do rich folks' lawns." The shadow of Mick behind her, she glances his way and keeps her gun level. "We'll leave after I get what I want. Pity it just has to be in your possession, sunshine." With a roll of her shoulders she takes a step forward. "Vagrant Viking. Where is it?"
Vagrant Viking? Sounds like a painting or…maybe a book? Hell if he knew. Mick just shrugs his shoulders and taps his fingers against his own gun, a light warning tapping on the metal. He hadn't spoken, but even in shadow he didn't exactly look like the biggest picture of patience. Whatever they were here for? Better they get it soon and get a move on…or knock this unexpected interuption out cold and search themselves.
There are two people in her apartment. Pointing guns at her. The very violation of this moment is making Eve marginally annoyed. She tamps it down. There's not much she can do up against that gun and they have her dead to rights. For the moment.
"…it's in the library," she offers, after a long pause. It took her a minute to figure out what the hell the parka-clad-lady was on about.
She points at the room, of course, staying exactly where she is.
And then waits. Because, well… what else is she gonna do?
"Keep her here." Lena tells Mick, the voice commanding even if she was much, much smaller than he was. "If she moves, put her to bed." Circling the room, eyes on Eve, she heads in the direction given to her. "I'm not having another job ruined by you." She mutters to herself and goes searching for the treasure in question.
A click, a whirring and a sudden glow of deep angry red of heat. It didn't take much to guess what the weapon might do, or at the very least it -was- a weapon. "Sit real still. Either you can call the cops after we leave, or someone else can call the fire department."
The voice was harsh, a growl in the dark and his face still obscured, but his eye do flick towards where Lena moves. Hopefully this book was worth the hassle!
"Creepy," is what eve says to the departing form of Lena. "And I really liked my hedge maze ghost explanation," she says with a heavy sigh. That's so ruined now! Hedge Maze Ghosts do not have apartments.
Generally.
"I am very still," she tells the man with the fire gun, eyes big and unblinking. She does not want to be set on fire. That shit takes /forever/ to come back from.
Lena Snart takes her time. She hunts and digs, finding the copy she wants of said book. She checks it over, looks for the inch, the promise of it being the real deal. Closing it up, she slips the object into her side bag and turns to leave. She gives pause, though, her eyes skipping about a few more trinkets and pretties the room has to offer. Smirking, she nods and starts shopping.
Waiting. The worst part of it all, but that gun never wavers. Instead he simply just waits, watches and remains his intimidating self. He wasn't getting to break into things, shop around or even make a mess now…so he was getting a little impatient.
"Sup," says Eve to the Fire-Gun-Guy, after a long momentary pause.
She still hasn't blinked at all. Not even once. " Casual. She's otherwise completely still.
"You been doing this a long time?" she asks casually a moment later.
Pleased with her findings, Lena exits the library (and apartment with a library…) and then eyes the pair. To Mick, she cants her head to the side. "We're done here." A glance in Eve's direction, she sighs and shakes her head, irritation evident in her expression. No one was suppose to be here, much less some 'wraith'. Slipping around Mick, Cold heads for the door.
Slowly Mick advances forwards at Lena's return. A towering threat of a man with the gun leveled practically oozing threat. Was he simply intending to remove the loose end of Eve? Ensure there was no witnesses? It was practically a moment wher ethe room might hold its breath…until one gloved hand reaches down, digs into the bowl of popcorn and stuffs it into his mouth before moving backwards.
"Longf ennugh!" he answers with a mouthful, munching away before he retreats. Only as they're about to step out the door does he lower the gun. "Enjoy the movie!"
Then Heatwave was gone, following along behind the ice queen.
Eve's eyes track as Mick's hands go for her popcorn bowl and therefore her popcorn. It's sort of ruined once that happens. She looks back up at him for this unfogivable sin.
That was her last bag of popcorn. NBow she has to go to the store.
"…nice meeting you too," she manages to rasp after a moment. A slight twitch of her expression, finally. She is, at least, grateful she was not set on fire.
"…/motherfucker/," she says after they depart, letting out a breah. Time to see the damage.