RP:Diamond in The Rough

Synopsis: It's time. For rogues. For glory. The Rogue's Guild comes together to steal a large, overly priced diamond (and other jewels). Despite the different missions, the crew comes together in a synchronized bad (in a good way) way.

Part of the A Few Fox Tales Arc

Part of the Waxing Crescent, Wayward Course Arc

This is a Rogue's Guild RP.

Merchant Street

Tiber (1 of 2):: It was a couple hours since the sun had settled for the evening. Tiberius made sure to leave low-key words with distinct members about when the time would be to execute the plan. The fellow rogues were supposed to meet in an alley a couple blocks down. Hidden in the shadows by empty buildings that were closed for the evening. The Catalian shows up in black pants, boots, and black leather rogue gear. A black bandana is wrapped around his face only showing amber eyes. The man makes sure to have a hood to cover dusty blonde waves that would normally stick out like a sore thumb. The man wears a belt as well that carries twin daggers, and a couple vials that Lanara conjured up for the evening.

Tiber (2 of 2):: Once members would approach, Viper would start with the foundation of what the tasks were. “I’ll save the ‘how are yous’, since I know that’s not what this is all about. You got our notes, we assume since you’re all here.” That was how they would know the layout of the facility. “I’ll make this short and sweet, as I know our Kingfisher wrote the layout. Now, it’s time to execute.” Beat. “Seven,” he addresses Loravelle, and leaves out the awkwardness since, well, their first encounter did not go very well with the whole Soiree. He assumed she got the letter to dress as a homeless person, “Your job is to just play innocently and nonchalantly. Considering you are disguised as the homeless, your job is to keep watch. If -any- Cenrilian guards are nearby, you ring that bell three times in a row.” The man’s eyes trace to the next person, “Badger,” he pulls down that cloth and grins tauntingly at Aira, “you are playing Swan. Distract and figure out how to deal with the two main guards in the front and make sure to keep an eye on the guards up top with Freckles.” Next person, “Minx,” he smiles charmingly at his roguish wife before leaving his affectionate impulse to the side because… really, edgy Lana? He saves his thoughts, “You will help with those dobermans inside, as you have the ability to keep them calm and help with the guards as well.” Beat. “Freckles,” Lanlan, the man who previously helped them in their scoping mission. “Again, you handle the rooftops and back alleys. Any guards come…? You know what to do.” The man scratches at his stubble as eyes shift to the next rogue. “Tail,” Ina, “You’re in charge of picking locks for jewelry cases and doors, and… you might have to help with those guards to get to the doors. Minx and I’ll try our best to fend them for you. There are a lot of guards, and we want this to be as smooth as possible.” Beat, “Tail, you’re also in charge of the smuggling of goods. I assume we might be able to snag some extra stuff if we are quick about it, but the main focus is the diamond.” Once everyone knew their job, and they were ready, Tiber would pull his cloth back up and begin to lead the way.

Lanara stands next to Tiber, her dark eyes glistening with excitement beneath the moonlight, as she studies the faces of the others. Some are strangers to the witch, and others she has known for quite some time, nevertheless, they are all here for the same reasons. Greed. Boredom. Necessity. As her husband gives everyone the rundown, Lana listens intently, because it’s of the utmost importance that everyone gets in and out as quickly as possible. Be smart, be safe, and hopefully no one will end up in the slammer or a graveyard. She’s clad in black leggings, a black long-sleeved shirt, and black knee-high boots. There’s a thick leather belt around her slender waist which has a few essentials for the task at hand; a pouch of lockpicks, some vials of unidentifiable poison, and twin daggers. At the end of Tiber’s speech, Lana pulls her hair back into a sleek ponytail, and prepares to activate the amulet that rests upon her chest, hung from a thin gold chain, “Everyone be sure to disguise yourselves, it’s best that we aren’t discovered too quickly by the guards.” Aira, her frenemy since forever, earns a wink. Lora is given a smile, too, as the witch is growing fond of the shy girl. Lanlan and Arlyeon receive a parting nod, before the witch is cloaked in the shadows, and she eyes the dark alley to her left that will bring them to the jewelry store. Tiber and Lana wait for the others to disperse and get into their positions, before they ready themselves for the mission.

Loravelle didn't have much trouble with making herself look homeless. The former servant still had a pile of her ragged, threadbare clothes from her homeland to work with, so she pulled a few layers of those ratty old robes and veils on. While playing lookout on the street, she might as well make some cash since she won't be able to get her hands on any jewelry, so Lora has her old guitar -affectionately named Twing Twang- slung over her back by its fraying strap. She'll position herself somewhere within sight on the street and strum her strings while the others take care of business. And ring the bell if trouble comes along, of course. When Tiber addresses her, she lifts up the little bell by its clapper to show that she has it and won't let it ring until it's appropriate. She won't bring up the Soiree, but she does grin at Lanara. She's such a nice witch. As amusing as it might be to play the role of hobo with a golden voice, the shy bard had no intention of singing this time around. Just some mindless strumming so passersby might throw some coins in a hat for her while she keeps an eye out for the others. She's just waiting for the signal to disperse.

Aira showed up looking like she had already been in some type of heist or at the very least a brawl. She had a slice through her left eyebrow, the blood congealed around the wound, and there was bruising and swelling around the eye socket as well. She also looked a bit disheveled with her mussed blonde hair and askew dress, both of which she patted down and pulled into place when she approached the others. If one could ignore the bruise and cut on her face, and her rumpled appearance, they would appreciate her attempt to look nice. The huntress donned a classic LBD–little black dress–that hugged her frame and showed off some feminine curves that were normally hidden away. Her feet, which were normally booted, were now in a sleek pair of black pumps. Her blonde hair which was usually pulled back in a simple ponytail had been styled in gentle curls that fell to her mid-back. She had even painted her lips red and swiped some mascara on her eyelashes. Clearly, she was taking her position as the swan tonight very seriously. If it weren’t for the vulpine eyes and matching tail those familiar with Aira might not even recognize her, especially with the lack of weaponry! In a dress like that someone would surely see the outline of even the thinnest dagger, right? While her and Tiber normally shared some banter, Aira kept her lips sealed, listening intently as he explained what the plan was for the evening. She wrinkled her nose briefly in Viper’s direction when he pulled down the bandana to grin at her, but she held her tongue. She would follow the group as they made their way through the alley and towards the storefront, only breaking ahead to deal with the front guards. “Someone get me something pretty?” she asked with a smirk before walking ahead of the others.

Arlyeon made sure to be present in a ponctual fashion, but that didn't mean she wasn't going to have fun with this situation in other ways. For instance, today's mischief was firmly rooted in her choice of guise- for ever as her peers slunk over with the grace of shadows, Ina simply sat on a sealed refuse barrel, fingers wriggling in greeting. And yet, in a sense, she's equally as discreet- given it's not a boisterous foxkin that awaits them- but rather, a mundane looking raccoon. Well, mostly mundane, really- given that the portly little creature was possessed of a pair of tails, a small bowtie, and a dingy looking sack of...produce? Still, once Tiber's tossed out the refresher on their rolls, the Raccoon stands to attention, offering a salute made all the weirder by it's stubby arms.

Tiber makes sure to keep himself tucked in shadows as they move through the night. Tiberius has to put his real thoughts on hold at the crew of dressed people or else he would spend the night pinching the bridge of his nose. A hobo, a scandalous woman, a raccoon with a -bow tie-…? What was next? Bravo for disguises… maybe? The broody lycan is torn. Did Viper miss the memo? Should he have dressed as a physical sneaky snake instead? No need for faint shadows. A hand is held up for some of the group to halt until their Swan makes her move for a distraction. Once the locks are picked in the front, the man moves ahead. Two guards stand in that main room. One on one side of the left side of the store, one on the other side. They had amped the security in the store just for the main room. Automatically, Tiber lunges forward on the right side of the room and swings himself around to put one of the guards into a headlock. A blade reaches to try to stab the lycan as the guard is wiggling the pointy end back and forth in Tiber’s steady grip, Viper pulls the stealthy moves to dodge the blade flinging backward. He then pulls out a tainted cloth before smothering the man underneath him to make the dude pass out. Once that door in the back is unlocked, it is go-time for Tiber since he wants to make this heist as quick as possible. The rest of the guards in the room, he leaves up to the others as he only has one main focus. Lanara stands next to him, and once Ina is able to get the door open, the man budges his chin at his wife. “Don’t worry, I have your back.” His voice is low and a brief hand reaches out to give her hand a squeeze.

Lanara weaves easily in and out of the alleys, leaping gracefully over garbage cans, and hugging walls to avoid detection from anyone that may be patrolling the area. Footfalls are nearly silent as she nears the storefront, surveying the scene, and making sure that nothing is amiss. Badger has the guards focused on her lovely yet disheveled form, and Mouse is strumming her guitar and keeping a close watch for any signs of trouble. So far, so good, she thinks, as she waits for the door of the jewelry store to be unlocked. As soon as the group is granted entrance, Lana targets the unique mechanism that rests behind the counter, and she feels the hum of magic barring anyone from flipping that particular switch. She completely ignores the dual guards, as she knows her husband and raccoon can deal with them. On bated breath, she centers herself and focuses her energy on the enchanted switch, trying to get a feel for the magic that had been cast. The witch mutters a spell in Sylvan, and it looks as though she’s reading the air before her very eyes, as a faint smile graces her lush lips. It’s not a timer nor is it any type of alarm that will alert the authorities, and she doesn’t detect any sort of negative repercussions. Lana looks pointedly at Arlyeon as she flips the switch and the magical wards are lifted off of all the display cases and counters, “Hop to it, Tail!” A few of the cases still have locks that need to be picked, but aside from that, everything can carefully be stolen without sustaining injuries. Minx moves to stand beside Viper as Tail unlocks the door, the witch mildly paranoid, as she keeps glancing over her shoulder and around the room. Subconsciously she’s considering adopting Tail, and so as her husband squeezes her hand, she squeezes back and mistakes his intentions, “My thoughts exactly! We -do- need another pet for the house!”

Loravelle lags behind the others so hopefully it isn't obvious that she's with them, but eventually she emerges from the alleyway and makes herself comfortable with her guitar on the ground across the way from the building, sitting cross-legged with her back pressed against some building. Seven grimaces. Did she just sit in some gross puddle of Cenril city filth? That's vague and disgusting. She'll need a bath after this, but it adds to her homeless get-up now. She tosses a hat in front of her for 'donations' – some ratty old beanie she dug out of a dresser at home. The bell is in her lap, hidden behind her guitar's old and scratched body while she busies herself with keeping an eye out for guards outside and tuning Twing Twang's strings. Hopefully they're alright in there while she supplies the background music for their heist. Could she just do this every time? Seems easy enough. Her ears aren't that sensitive due to her mundane human status, but she takes the lack of angry or frightened sounds coming from the building to mean everything is going just fine and dandy within. Some townsfolk have already walked by and dropped a gold coin or two in her collection beanie, so at least Lora is semi-successful here. Maybe she'll scrounge up enough to buy some new clothes after this. Something warmer than what she's wearing. It's freezing out here. Her fingers tremble a little on their frets while she plays but at least she isn't holding the bell and accidentally ringing it.

Aira (Post 1 of 2) Aira wasn’t used to working with others. Normally when she teamed up it was with only one other person. This was also her chance to prove herself to this potential…family, Lanara had called them. And speaking of the witch, the huntress felt something akin to fondness towards her (however fleeting) and as she was participating on her suggestion, felt even more pressure to perform well. There was also the fact that if she dressed up like this and -didn’t- succeed, Tiber would never let her live it down. Her heels did a good job of announcing her arrival and Badger added on a slight limp to her steps to further call them out. She conjured up some fake tears and whimpered quietly as she approached. One of the guards looked up and noticed the pretty blonde and elbowed his buddy and inclined his chin in her direction. “You alright ma’am?” the guard called out. Badger startled, cowering slightly for effect and looked their way, giving them a full view of her damaged eye. “I-I’m fine,” she blubbered out, shielding her face once more before making a show of moving on. Guard One took a step forward and reached out a hand placatingly. “You don’t look fine, Miss,” he frowned. “Who would hurt a pretty thing like you?” She exhaled heavily and gestured back towards a nearby alley way–the opposite way the others would come. “A group of men followed me out of the Whaler’s and…and attacked me.” Guard One, clearly the more empathetic of the pair, looked back at Two who rolled his eyes and made some misogynistic comment about her dress under his breath.

Aira (Post 2 of 2) “Why don’t you show us where they went?” Guard One asked while Two scoffed. “-You- can go look, I’m not getting sacked for leaving my post.” Aira shook her head. “N-no. I c-couldn’t impose. Plus there are f-four of t-them and only t-two of you.” She cast them a glance from head to toe and winced, silently communicating they wouldn’t be a match for the rowdy group. This piqued Guard Two’s interest and he narrowed his gaze at the huntress. “You sayin’ I can’t take ‘em?” Badger shook her head consolingly and pressed a hand to her bleeding eye. “Th-they are b-big and st-strong a-and…” Guard Two, clearly agitated that this weak woman would -ever- undermine his strength, shoved Guard One’s shoulder in the direction of the alley. “If we get fired for some broad you’re going soft on, I’m going to kill you.” Badger, with their backs to her, grinned for the briefest of moments before tailing after them. “P-please d-don’t. I d-don’t w-want you t-to get h-hurt b-because of m-me…” The guards were so distracted they didn’t notice the huntress was no longer limping. “It’s no problem, Miss,” Guard One said, throwing some faux toughness in his tone. “We’ll set these men straight.” Guard Two walked into the alley first. He squinted his eyes into the darkness and held up his hand to command his buddy and Aira to be quiet so he could assess where the assailants might be. “Come on, out fellas. You’ve had your fun.” Only, no footsteps or voices reached his ear, only the faint sound of gurgling could be heard and it was coming from behind him. He turned slowly, knife drawn, to see Guard One clutch the deep gash across his throat and fall to his knees, Aira stood behind him, already stringing the bloodied arrow into her bow.

Arlyeon has a rather distinct advantage here, given that, while people skulking in the shadows might potentially arouse the suspicion of a particularily astute guard, a raccoon armed with a sac of mouldering vegetables would be right at home in Cenril. In fact, she's more than free to skitter up along a wall and up into the rain gutters, clambering after the group with nary a care in the world. And this persists even after the guards are engaged, Ina scuttling forward on all fours, and entering the fray in an altogether impromptu manner, weaving through a set of legs to serve as a tripping hazard on her way to the shops door. Once there, she begins rummaging through her sack of produce, though, not for a snack. Like, sure, an onion is producerd, but it's -also- hucked underfoot to serve as an impedient, since, the foxkins actual goal is the bits and bobs within the bag- like some surprisingly Ina-sized lockpicks. And her given form is more than dextrous enough to put them to use, given she wastes no time in hanging off the door and fiddling with the lock. Really, it's that satisfying *click* she's here for- one which coaxes her into relinquishing the knob and retreating back to her sack. Simply put, whether or not the guards on the outside were fully disabled, Ina's not really of the mind to slow her roll, and given that Lanara gave her the okay for the denses on the casing? Well- she's more than happy to take a castrophically expedited approach. Yup- Raccoon Ina is bee-lining towards the cases as ordered, but it's not a lockpick in her hands this time around. No, it's been changed for a rock, that had been neatly nestled among some potatos. When you've already started a scuffle, discretion can be partially eschewed- the foxkin smashing open a her sized point of egress so she can clamber -into- the case and begin stuffing the contents into her sack of goods. A process the Foxkin's going to be repeating until either the signal's given to depart, or her own gut instincts coax her into making an about face.

Tiberius :: As Tiber waits for the door to open, in the background, onions and potatoes are flying from the old sack that Tail holds. Dear Sven… Guard two in the main room is on their way to attack the Kelvarian, but suddenly, there is an obstacle–an onion! The burly guard runs a foot over the round produce before losing completely balance. “Whoa, whoa, whoa!” The guard slips and falls on the onion before knocking their head against one of the cases. The guard is now out cold. That was easy, Tiber watches the guard fall easily to the ground. Once those doors whip open and those two guards stand. He is banking on someone to come swoop in eventually to help him get past these guards. For now, he yells at Minx, “Go! I have your back!” Tiber reaches for the hilts of the steel daggers. He uses his elbow to punch a guard and swings with those daggers. One cuts a guard’s arm and the other dodges. One of the steel blades of one of the guards slashes Tiber across the chest which rips the leather on his garb. He is just barely nicked. Sucker. The lycan then goes in for the kill as he lunges forward on a guard to get a good angle on the man’s throat to slide the blade cleanly across the man’s throat. The blood oozed down the man’s neck until he dropped to the ground in crimson gurgle. The other guard is moving to the others in the jewelry room as he notices guards are being taken down left and right in the main parlor. The guard clearly thinks he can save the jewelry store and chase after that little foxkin ruining -everything-, so Tiberius leaves the other guard behind to scramble to the back room where the diamond waited. Once the door is unlocked, he would move to the case where the large, clear-cut diamond rested. Because he knew this was going to be a risk, the thief was willing to take it, so the man fumbles for his lock-picks. He sinks the pick in the lock and automatically the ward pulses electricity and Viper is zapped back. Tiberius shakes from the shock for a minute, but in that meantime, the ward is lifted–as whoever created it assumed that the robber who was trying to steal it would be caught by security. The case unlocks, and in a mutter of pain, he seethes, “Tail,” he is hoping that either Tail or Rook get the diamond because his muscles seem tense–tingling and pain flood his nerves. Frozen in place from the shock. After a few minutes, the man is able to force himself in a large grunt to move up. He knew he needed to get out of there with the rest of them. “Sh–” he cuts off before getting to his knees. Well, his scrappy luck lasted this long, at least.

Lanara braces herself for when the double doors swing open and two burly guards wield their weapons and prepare to attack. This alerts another guard from down the hall, as well as his two guard dogs, a pair of blue dobermans. Lana shoves her way through the guards, as they are apprehended by her husband, and she runs to meet up with the other guard. The man tries to sic both dogs on the woman, but he fails miserably, as Lanara is an animal empath and she turns the tides. Despite the fact that the dogs have been expertly trained to kill on their master's command, they hesitate for a moment as their loyalty wavers, before obeying the call of the witch. The snarling dobermans leap onto the guard and viscously snap at his face, aiming to rip out his throat, but the man doesn’t just sit there and panic as one would expect. He rears up and digs his dagger into the belly of the one dog, and as Lana hears that yelp of pain, she springs into action. Extracting the dagger from her belt, the witch and the remaining dog take out the guard, in a flurry of stabs and bites, until he’s nothing more than a bloody pulp in the hallway. Lana slides off of the dead man's body and assesses her injury; a slit in her bicep from the blade the guard had been helplessly waving around. The average person would need several stitches, but lycans heal swiftly, so she’s not too concerned. The yelping of the doberman has subsided to soft whimpers, and Lana crawls over to it, her hands splayed over the abdomen. There is no saving this poor pooch, she knows, but still it pains her greatly to see such a magnificent purebred die. She pours soothing thoughts into its mind, helping it to focus on something happier than the obvious pain. About twenty seconds later, the canine takes its last breath, and the other dog throws his head back and mournfully howls. His handler and his canine companion both lie dead and he’s inconsolable. It breaks Lana’s heart, but she’s here on a mission, so she pushes herself to her feet and heads to the auction room to see if Viper and Tail need her assistance taking out any other guards. Hopefully Lora doesn’t ring that bell three fateful times and they can secure the diamond and get the hell out of here!

Loravelle knew Aira was playing a role here, but her stammering was convincing enough to almost cause her to want to stop playing and try to help. As a cowardly, mousy person herself, Seven knew she'd behave similarly or worse in this setting if she were in the foxkin's place. Guard One's throat getting slit is enough to ground her back in reality, though. That's horrifying and impressive. And it makes her stomach somersault. Seven will just...keep playing, and if anybody wandering past asks why she's just sitting there makin' music while some guard is bleeding out, she'll play the Confused Foreigner card, over emphasizing her mostly faded accent and speaking very broken Common. Just a nice homeless lady that doesn't speak Common very good but she can play a guitar pretty good. She hears dogs, howling, some sort of ruckus going on within that building, but things seem to be okay on the outside...Unless Guard Number Two is going to be a problem for Badger. While continuing to play her guitar and be lookout, she considers the possibility that she might be able to help a little bit more if the time called for it. Maybe smacking someone with Twing Twang? That might be useful…

Lanlan as Freckles appeared in the alley wearing his double-layered disguise. Illusions over physical (but fake) cat ears and wearing a pair of clawed gloves. The frayed noble clothes he wore were authentic, dingy, and old. Just like this city. The mundane aspect of his disguise was rough, he was just Lanlan in a silly costume. But the illusion made him a different person entirely. It gave life and movement to his ears, piercing yellow cat's eyes instead of his haunting glowing red. And the smell, ubiquitous in Cenril's streets, was whittled down to a subtle essence and masked his own. He stands inconspicuously among his coworkers, too timid (supposedly) to make a big splash. Close to a dingy and neglected cobblestone wall, he could almost disappear into it. Dingy, neglected, that was his look. He listened and watched as his colleagues made their appearances, and heard his role. He opened his mouth, started as if to speak, but then allowed himself to be drowned out. Sure Lanlan knew what to do with any guards savvy enough to suspect something, but did Freckles? Certainly! Not. Certainly not. And he wouldn't ask either. Confidence is key! And so Lanlan nods as anxiously as possible, his cat eyes full of manifested worry. When it was time to move out, Freckles stayed with them as long as was necessary, but his approach necessitated he take a detour. The avenues (or alleys) to success led him to the backside of Togo the armorer's shop, where after a brief survey of his surroundings, he concluded that he was sufficiently isolated. He cast a subtle spell to let him defy gravity and scale sheer cliffs, and climbed up to a roof. According to his plan, he pushed himself up over the lip of a slanted roof and emerged behind a tall chimney.

Aira :: Guard One was still trying to hold on, but Badger knew how sharp she made her homemade arrowheads. She also knew exactly how much pressure to apply to slit her prey’s throat after an arrow didn’t kill on impact. Badger pressed her foot into Guard One’s back and shoved him face down onto the ground where he would undoubtedly bleed out before lifting her bow to level the arrow at Guard Two. He snarled at Badger, and unsheathed his sword. “You wretched whore! You’re all the same! You’re all–” His words were cut short by the huntress who, despite not having use of one of her eyes, let her arrow fly and watched as it stuck in his throat. “You men talk too much,” she said with disgust, shaking her head. Guard Two looked stunned, which was further proof of his over inflated ego–hadn’t he seen her slit the throat of his companion? He waved his hands around, grasped the shaft of the arrow and yanked it out with a sickened sqwelch. “Not a smart move,” Badger said nonchalantly, moving towards a garbage barrel and pulling free a quiver of arrows she stored there earlier in the day. “Now you’re just going to suffocate on your own blood. Guard Two must have realized that two seconds too late because he grasped at his neck helplessly as his face turned a violent shade of violet. The huntress offered him a sweet smile and a wiggle of her fingers before she turned on her foot and gave the dying guard a departing sway of her hips as she stalked off back towards the storefront. At the very least she could hide herself in the shadows and offer ground support to Freckles who was on the roof. Once in range, Aira knocked an arrow into place, drew her bowstring back, and aimed towards the roof, ready to let an arrow fly should a guard come into her sight.

Arlyeon is in the midst of stuffing an entire series of jade and gold accessories into her bag, when she becomes duly aware of a shadow looming over the case she's currently inside. All it takes is a glance over her shoulder to confirm it's growing proxmity, moments before a cudgel smashes through the glass, forcing the raccoon to skitter back and drag her sack of vegetables as an impromptu shield against the rain of razor sharp debris. Unfortunately, that also means there's a clear path for the guard to reach in, headless of the cuts on his arm, and grab the sack of jewels to yank it out. The only thing Ina can do is manage an exaggerated sheepish smile, dangling from the bag with the claws of her feet and one hand, even as the other awkwardly wiggles at the guard, who shakes the bag once in an attempt to dislodge her, even as he begins to wind back up with his cudgeling arm. It's at this point that the grieving howl of a dog cuts through the building, causing the guard to falter, and the hairs on Ina's body to prickle. Just -who- else had heard that? And...why was Viper calling for he- "Oh." That decidely articulate response from the raccoon wrenches the guards attention straight towards her again, just in time for him to vault over the sack and smash the rock straight into his face. Once, twice, A third- even as she begins to scramble around his head, weaving around his desperate attempts redirect her efforts. It's only when she dives off his face and onto a countertop that he's finally provided a clear shot. One further enabled by the fact that Ina pauses to give him the bird twice over with her little Raccoon hands. "You filthy pest!" The guards cudgel slams down again, but this time Ina's ready for it, flopping out of the way as he smashes it down on the lock of the formerly trapped diamond. Formerly, because his blind rage manages to carry enough force to shatter the once sorcerously shut mechanism. The horrified look of understanding that crosses the guards face in that moment is -gold-, though it pales in comparison to the ensuing flare of color that erupts through the darkness of the store- briefly highlighting the various figures within. Ina, after all, can still breath fire, even in her diminutive state- which leaves the guard stumbling with a faceful of flames, the and the foxkin free- both to snag the Diamond, and the collect the bag of 'produce' he's dropped.

Tiber eventually is able to get up after staring at the ceiling in that paralyzed state–even though his head feels light from the flood of surge. The feisty raccoon gets the diamond after flipping two little naughty fingers from tiny paws (insert the real coffee spit emoji)--Viper can hardly move or else a smug smirk would rest underneath black cloth that covers his mouth. Amber eyes watching Ina closely in that sickened look. That agony. The man owes that little ‘pest’. Not so much to Tiber. The man pushes through the aches and steps over bodies to get back to the main hall where Minx is. “We got it–let’s get the hell out of here.” Viper grits his teeth. A hand tightly clings to the witch’s arm for support to at least get out the door and walk the taze off. Eventually, when clean salty air hits his face and he is a solid distance from the building, he lets go of his wife and moves forward to find Loravelle in the back alleyway. “Sweet jam,” he grinned lazily as he pulled down the cloth. “We got what we needed. I want you to be the last one until the last person is cleared out. Thank you,” the lycan then moves forward and keeps close to the shadows of buildings as he imagines the crew will make sure to move on to their original headquarters. The Jolly Roger. Rook would be proud. Not that Viper cared about that through all the greed. Still a jealous guy--through and through.

Lanara exits the jewelry store with the others, closely walking beside her electrocuted husband, though as soon as they pass by a few alleys everyone seems to break into a sprint. They are eager to head to a safe haven and ogle the goodies that they stole on this little adventure! However, as they round the bed, Lana hears the clicking of nails against pavement and she pats Tiber on the arm, “Go ahead. I’ll meet you there.” Lora’s plucking of strings is heard, but just beneath that sounds the familiar whine of an animal. She turns around and walks back a little of the way they had come, her dark eyes focusing on the shadows, when the blue and tan doberman from earlier steps out from behind a garbage can. He slowly approaches the witch and sits in front of her, those intelligent gray eyes glued upon her fair face, as he lifts one of his paws and swipes the air. Even though he had a handler, there wasn’t any love between them. He was just a pawn used for protection and only received an occasional ‘good boy’ or pat on the head. Lana drops to her knees and rests her hands on each side of the doberman’s head, gently scratching him behind his erect ears, as she considers what to do with him. She can’t bring him to the sanctuary because if anyone came looking they would tie her to the theft. She also cannot leave him to roam freely around Cenril, because he isn’t public friendly and has been bred to kill. It leaves her with one remaining idea, and she sighs, “Tiber is going to go ballistic about this, but… I can’t just leave you out here. If you promise not to eat our other pets and guard our house, then you can stay with us, okay?” The dog stands up and wags his docked tail, flicking his tongue out to lick Lana’s hand, as they both come to an understanding. A moment later they walk side by side to their destination, eager to see where this mission has taken them.

Loravelle feels like she might be sick at the sight of Badger's progress with those two guards, so she looks toward the storefront. Where it's safe. ...Safe? Is it? How is everyone else doing in there? Her guitar playing has slowed to a crawl, with whatever tune she was playing drawing to a close. But hey, she had a beanie full of coins from passersby – A lot of them scattered after Badger's handiwork, hopefully not to alert authorities... Might wanna ring that bell, Seven. Stopping her guitar-playing entirely, Seven lifts her little bell and prepares to give it a jingle so everyone inside knows it's time to wrap it up, but what luck! They're strolling out, and it looks like they're all in one piece. Viper's compliment is met with a half smile. “I play much better when I'm not sitting in shi-” The hand holding the bell moved in such a way that conveniently caused it to jingle and censor the majority of her cussing. She'll stay put just as she's told, but once everybody clears out Seven will pocket her coins, throw smoosh that beanie on top of her veiled head, and wander the opposite way of the others. JR sounded great, but the girl needs a bath and fresh clothes. She's filthy.

Leoxander wouldn’t be unnoticeable in his departure as he was at his arrival, though the wolves among the crowd might catch a drifting scent.

Lanlan peered out from behind the chimney and scrutinized the rooftops where he knew the guards would be. Sure enough, he saw them, almost exactly where he thought they would be. But in fact, they were the least of his concerns. What he -really- wanted to be sure of, is that none of his allies could see what he was about to do. What were their roles again? Most of them were going to be inside weren’t they. Perfect. He looked left. He looked right. He cast a deeper magic spell, sucking the color from his clothes, his body, and hiding all traces of himself in a memory. He was invisible. The sound of his footsteps up to the crest of the roof was muffled by a whistling breeze that blew past the closest guard every time Lanlan made a move. Then as he got closer, creeping down the other side of the slanted roof, it was a sudden and surprising fit of laughter from someone in an alley they couldn’t see. It was the guard’s job to know what was happening down there, and he peered over the edge with one hand on his hip and the other on a mean looking black jack, scrutinizing the damp, dark paths below in both directions. Lanlan saw his burly handlebar mustache arch on one side as the man’s face wrinkled. In disappointment? He wanted action. He’ll get it, Lanlan was behind him now. Like a snake, an animated scarf slithered out of thin air, apparently, from out of Lanlan’s sleeve. Winding loosely around the man’s neck as he investigated, it formed a loop. What were the other guards doing? They had something else to concern themselves with. A gentle -push-, and the unsuspecting man fell off the roof, but he never hit the ground. Lanlan revealed himself almost simultaneously. Or, he revealed someone. A guard, with a thick brown mustache, bending down around his lips and sighing with boredom, looking eagerly with vigilance and anticipation.

Lanlan :: One of the guards looks his way. Lanlan, as the guard he just murdered, waves to him. Beckoning him over. “Whoops…forgot to hear his voice first,” Lanlan muses quietly to himself. “Guess I’m going to you…” He bounces lightly across a wide wooden slab, from one rooftop to the next, and the next. The disgruntled man reluctantly approaches him. “Y’ain’t s’posed to leave yer post, ye wild buffoon,” the man says, insulting Lanlan as he would the man who hangs from a gutter. “I know, I know…but look!” The guard’s instantly aware of something strange. And that’s because Lanlan never heard his victim’s voice before, and only guessed at what it might sound like. But it was too late anyway. Lanlan already prodded him in his thigh with his ugly “blackjack” (it was a knife), and the tip of it buried itself in the man’s leg, delivering a copious dose of a ridiculous toxin. As he reached for Lanlan, he lost control of his legs. Lanlan backed away from him. The other guard, face pockmarked and red from his condition, felt no suffering, only a deep and enviable elation as he danced and stomped and whooped…And Lanlan thought for sure this would command the attention of the last guard. But it apparently didn’t. Lanlan looked for him…but where was he? He looked into the street and saw several people making a getaway. Not far enough behind them, he saw the dwarf guard who ignorantly crushed Lanlan’s fingers. He was bullying people out of the way as he gave chase. Lanlan was just annoyed at this point. He would have to be the idiot again… The mustachioed guard vanished, and Freckles appeared once again. He stalked the guard from the roof, and when he turned into the same alley his colleagues disappeared into, Freckles was ready to intercept, and awkwardly stepped off the roof, crashing into the dwarf painfully, and they were in a pile on the dirty cobbles. Though the pain seemed to affect Freckles more deeply, as the dwarf rapidly spun his torso around pinning Lanlan underneath, and pressing his sausage fingers into Lanlan’s scrawny neck.

Aira kept her post, barely moving a muscle as she kept her eyes on the roof lest this whole operation fall apart due to a blundering roof guard. Her eye hurt but she didn’t chance relaxing her stance until she saw the trio inside leave out of the store front. She held her position for a few more moments before lowering her bow and moving after the others. Out of habit, she kept her arrow knocked into place and ran after the group, cursing the damned heels on her feet and the tight dress for hindering her speed. Seeing as she was lagging, the sudden crash behind her drew the huntress’s attention. Spinning on her heel once more, the fletching of the arrow tickled her cheek as she aimed at the pile of men not far from where she stood. “Hey!” she yelled, hoping to draw their attention so she could better assess the situation. The dwarf looked up, and Badger wasted no time in letting her arrow fly, making direct contact with his left eye. She didn’t wait to see if it was a deadly blow, however. Still clothed in shadows, she hopefully wouldn’t be identified should he survive. “Let’s go slowpoke,” she called to Freckles over her shoulder, already running after the others once more. Being a new member (if she could call herself that yet) she wasn’t entirely sure -where- they were going but she didn’t pause to ask. She simply followed the crowd. She only hoped someone remembered to grab her something pretty. She deserved a nice piece of jewelry.

Arlyeon offers a derisive squeak at the flaming guard as he drags himself over a chair in search of something to snuff out the flame, before turning to follow on the heels of the other rogues. Only, she doesn't quite finish the motion- due to a rather abrupt epiphany. She had promised Lita to expedite the work on her dagger, and there was a more than adequate source of material present. And so, Ina hops over to the guard- whose journey has now taken him to the ground, to writhe and roll in an attempt to put out the spreading flames. "It's ja lucky day." Arguable, but there is a certain mercy to be found in the manner in which the transformed foxkin plucks the guards dropped cudgel, and brings it down on his throat to mercy kill him. Still, this is the same sort of luck as a rabbit hunted for their foot- given Ina wastes no time in applying a second more focused blast of fire to the mans shoulder so she can remove his arm wholesale and stuff it into the sack. Bone for Lita, acquired. "Uh." This room is definitely a lot more on fire then it was. "Oops." And thus out the door she goes- expressly bolting out in the same direction as she sees freckles, though she avoids staying close to the other rogues. After all, the most important element of her disguise was it's relatively natural appearance, and thus, it's not long before she splits off into the alleyways, weaving through broken down fences, past dingy hovels, all so she can take a roundabout route towards a particular art gallery.

Tiber snorts at the censored word from Seven before carrying on. He stares into the darkness of the cobblestone roads before Lanara slips away from him. He watches her leave him. What did she leave behind…? Go ahead…? Without her…? Once people come into the clearing, he has a feign smile on his face. “Thank you for coming.” Did rogues thank others? Either way, Tiber is a polite man when he needs to be. “We couldn’t have managed this without everyone. We’ll make sure to keep in touch with… earnings.” Yeah, Tiber is awkward at this. He would then tilt his chin, but pause shortly to watch Lanara with one of the doberman’s… Wait… what? Tiber grinds his teeth shortly before turning to move on, but before he does, he watches as the flames flick from beyond, as Ina’s fire grows as time passes. The evidence was burning. The bodies too. “We all should scram.” The man makes notes to everyone. He could save the bicker until Lanara and him were home about this one, but for now, he stuffs hands in his pockets and leaves the area to head for a safe-space–as he was sure patrons of Cenril were about to do the mega-concerned reports.

(Continued in - *RP:Or Just Plain Rough?)