Sometimes, people need to take a break. They need to calm down and stop and just breathe. They need to relax and try to relieve themselves of their stress and the too-fast pace their heat puts up. Of course, when you're in the middle of a trainwreck of a rescue mission, you don't have time to stop and rest and breathe. You have time to run.
The gala was to be a lavish one. It was New Year's Eve. Jack Noir, a wealthy higher-up in the government, had been chosen to throw a celebration for those deemed fit to attend. When he sent the invitations, however, he failed to mention that he'd be crashing his own party by making an assassination attempt on the royalty. The rumors circulating in the city's underworld had made their way to the boss of one special agent Dirk Strider, who currently stood outside of Noir's mansion looking up. "We probably don't want to make a huge splash of an entrance, considering that we're not holding invitations," he said, looking at his companion. "Still, these trees around us should shield us enough for the use of a grappling hook gun. Nice and old-fashioned. There should be two in the briefcase you were given."
"Darn, I was really hoping to make a big entrance this time." Beside the 'leader' of sorts was a blonde with a drink in her hand, sipping at it as she leaned back enough to eye the roof. Roxy Lalonde let a grin quirk her lips as she took another drawn out drink from her alcoholic beverage and then dug out the grappling hook, aiming it at her taller companion with a joking 'pchoo' and laughing. Obviously, she might have needed to lay off the drinks for a while. Or, maybe not, she worked almost as well drunk as she did sober. "Alright, Dirk-Stri, let's get this show on the ro-ad and tell Janey and Jake to hurry their asses up."
Dirk blinked at her for a second or two before realizing that she couldn't see his eyes behind his shades. This was gonna be a long night. "Good idea. Hey, English," he spoke into his nearly undetectable mic. "You and Jane good to go?"
One street over, Jake English sat in the quartet's main mode of transport for the mission, a nondescript black limousine. "Yes, Strider," he replied, "our ducks all seem to be in a row." The neighborhood was a classy one and the car blended in perfectly, especially with all of the government officials pouring in for the party. An array of guns littered the backseat, covered by only a black blanket at this point in time. If the straits became dire, they could be stored underneath the cushions.
Sitting in the same car, a short, dark-haired girl was slipping into something a lot less comfortable than her usual attire. "Thanks, Dirk, for remembering to include me in your address," she joked into the small mic stationed on her cheek. "I feel especially loved." Once she'd managed to tug the tight fitting and rather attention catching dress on, her feet were shoved into heels - Roxy had called them stillettos or something of the sort - and she was mussing her hair slightly. Jane Crocker dropped her glasses into her small purse, blinking owlishly around for a moment.
"No problem, Jane. Good luck in there - try not to crash into anyone too important," Dirk said. "Roxy and I are going in from the third floor. West-facing side of the house with all the trees around it." He nudged Roxy and jerked a thumb up at one of the balconies above.
"When have I ever crashed into anyone?" Jane snorted sarcastically, opening the door to the limo and giving Jake a smile and cool wave goodbye. "Don't let Roxy get herself into too much trouble." Shaking her head, the girl stepped through to security, handling them a carefully faked invite and smiling gently as she walked by, lips falling when she'd gotten through the doorway. "I'm in."
The blonde girl was already aiming up when he nudged her and she shot him a wide grin, pulling the trigger and watching the hook catch on the balcony. She wriggled, releasing and getting jerked up with a quieter than usual whoop of laughter, "You're going to fall behind like this!" Roxy called down to him as she swung her leg over the balcony onto the floor.
Dirk pulled his own gun and shot the grappling hook up to the balcony as well, scoffing at her remark. "Sure, Lalonde. Whatever helps you sleep at night." Grabbing the briefcase still sitting on the ground, he was standing next to Roxy a few seconds later. He adjusted his tie and took a peek into the room attached. Empty - good. He knelt to retrieve the weapons within, including tasers, guns, and knives for encounters that got a bit too close. He handed one of each to Roxy. "We're in as well."
Reaching up to adjust one of the many pins in her hair, Roxy tugged her long jacket off and set it in a nearby chair, revealing a surprisingly short, but not so clingy dress underneath. She brushed the fabric down and then brushed a hand through her hair before giving her companion a little wave as she situated her newly acquirred weapons to stay hidden and then backed to up to the door, drink still precariously balanced in hand. "See you soon, Dirk! I have a security console to find."
Opening the car door, Jake got out, armed to the teeth. He hastily concealed one last gun before adjusting his own disguise, a waiter's outfit that had been picked up a day before (to ensure that it matched the rest). None of the other kitchen workers noticed as he blended with them. They were rushing, and before he knew it there was a platter in his hands and someone shoving him into the ballroom. He glanced about the sea of faces, hoping to see Jane to no avail. "Cream puff, madam?" he offered to a random guest. He hoped that would do in lieu of an "I'm in," that being a thing waiters did not generally say.
It didn't take long for the short girl to maneuver her way through the building, keeping an eye out for Jack Noir (or any associates, including his marked hit). She moved surprisingly smoothly for a half blind chick in heels, stepping around groups of chatty higher ups and smiling at waiters as she moved around them. A few people tried to initiate conversation, but Jane was quick to fend it off with some excuse or another. There were some people you couldn't say no to, though. For example; the host of the party you had crashed with a fake invitation.
"Ah, madam." A hand reached for her shoulder and she turned, smile set on her lips falling when she took in the man. He had slicked back black hair and a sharp, charming smile on his face. "I don't quite recall your name. If you wouldn't mind..."
A/N: This is a collaboration between MickiTheMouse and I. I've become Homestuck since the last thing I posted, so that nearly obliterates everything else I was working on. I regret it as much as some others may. We've already written part of the next chapter, so look for that soonish!
