Marinette hummed softly as she carefully hefted trays of baked goods from the bakery kitchen into the glass cases in the front counter of her parent's bakery. The early morning setup was her favourite part of the day, with the sounds of her parents working in the bakery and the faint noises of the city beginning to wake up the only accompaniment to her measured actions.
It was nice, this sense of normalcy and calm. Marinette savoured the times when she could act like she was nothing more than the respectable daughter of two bakers.
She managed to stay and help her parents with the early morning rush of Parisians jostling to get their daily bread and the occasional pastry, and it passed mostly without incident. She only dropped three loaves and a handful of change, and only one of the loaves was actually an accident.
But, like all unexceptional things, it soon ended, evaporating with the strident beeping emanating from her back pocket. Luckily the rush was almost over, and her parents could easily manage without her. It was the work of a moment to trade out with her mother the control of the cash register, and head up to her room to get changed into something more appropriate for her actual job. A dark red shirt over a sports bra, black pants, worn boots, and weapons in unexpected places served to satisfy the dress code of 'practical, yet professional' and her own sense of fashion. The red shirt wasn't strictly regulation, but she was high up enough in the organisation that she could get away with indulging herself a little. After checking that she has everything she would need and a few things that she probably doesn't, Marinette scoops up her jacket and belt, and slinks out the trapdoor onto the rooftops of Paris.
The rooftops, while not the safest place in the world, are the most covert way of getting around the city. While most spies try to avoid extra risk, Marinette loves the exhilarating feeling she gets from making her way places above street level. Civilians so rarely look up, and it's easier to lose any tails she may have. There are fewer cameras, too, and less risk of collateral damage. She doesn't always take the rooftops to work, predictability is bad in her line of work, but it is her favourite.
TKE is beeping ever more insistently, and Marinette takes a moment in the shadow of a chimney to switch over to vibrate, and to check the screen to see which entrance she is being directed to today. It's one she hasn't used yet, and three streets over and a little ways north of her current location. The route she took was an easy one, with short jumps and uncluttered rooftops leading her to drop into a narrow alley, scanning for any sign that something was off.
The alley was dim and cluttered with discarded boxes and pallets, and plenty of places for someone to hide. Marinette slipped through the mess, wrinkling her nose at the slightly pungent smell emanating from what was clearly a restaurant of some kind and dubious quality. The alley ended in a stark brick wall almost as tall as the buildings either side.
Marinette reached into the pocket of her jacket and pulled out a soft cloth mask, that she slipped over her eyes and tied securely at the back of her head. Thusly attired, she scanned her surroundings. It was empty of anyone, the roofs empty of any observers and cameras, and no windows or niches that could conceal a person. Secure in the knowledge that she was alone, LB777 moved forward and pressed her left hand to a select brick, pressing her right thumb against TKE's dim screen. To her left, the wall slide smoothly back to reveal a small gap big enough for her to slip through. She ducked into the newly revealed lift, and felt herself slowly descend into the depths of the earth, on her way to get to work.