Pluto Shade sat at a bar. He was swindling a fellow patron. Using his charm and talents with misdirection, he stole the man's wallet. When the man noticed he was already all the way across the club with Junior grudgingly giving him an approving nod. The protege was becoming the master and this protege was second only to the twins.
Romulus Merlot ran through the forest, his padded gamebeson like trench coat flowed behind him glinting with bits of glass sewn into the fabric, and an ebony colored cane with cerulean and royal blue accents tightly gripped in hand. One would think he was running for his life, but this was betrayed by the subtle smirk on his face. The predator had already turned prey an acre back and that predator, that Beowulf, would be pleasantly suprised when it learned its 'prey' also had claws to match.
Archibald March was doing his typical William Tell style routine to distract the crowd as his best friend and fellow conman, Simon Shays, picked the lock on the door of a shop. The shop keep was gone to menagerie for unknown reasons and the pair had cased the place for days before. They would find some things to front or else the boss wouldn't be happy. Simon opened the door and smiled. Torchwick would be pleased with this one's dust cache.
