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Post by нσωℓ on Dec 7, 2016 23:51:45 GMT
paradoxName: Roux Lévesque Age: UNKNOWN Assumed late twenties. Height: 5'7" Weight: 154 lbs Aliases: Ruxx, Face-Thief Hair Color: Dyed Red Eye Color: Blue Grey Special Notes: Has a tattoo of a white-ink dragon on her left cheek "Richest Asshole in the state. I'd say it's an easy job, get in, get out. What do you think?" Roux looked up from the blueprints and plans which lie on the table at her partner, Fox. She studied his face for a moment before returning her gaze to the table. It should be an easy job if they shut down the security cameras and got the guards out of the way. The guy was pompous, but not overly-cautious. In fact this just might be one of the easier jobs. That's if the cameras get shut down and the guards are taken care of quietly before the owner returned from his dinner plans. "If you have any complaints say them now, once we've started it's too late to edit and revise our whole scheme s don't pull any second-guessing shit like that. I want this to be a clean job, no loose ends. That's why I'm not taking anyone else on board for this. The more people we have the more likely it is to fail. So that means your part is all the more important, got it? You do know what your part entails right?" Roux was prepared to call off the entire thing and do it by herself if he said no by this point. They couldn't afford wiggle-room or any error if he so much as touched the wrong button or breathed in the wrong direction. Part of her was anxious, though she couldn't place why. While waiting on his response she fidgeted with the loose zipper on her leather jacket, up and down, up and down, up and down. The noise distracted her enough from the anxiety eating at her core. All she needed was for this plan to go off without a hitch. If anything were to ever go right for her it had to be this.
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Post by paradox on Dec 8, 2016 6:30:38 GMT
{ my custom title tho <33 }
Surprisingly, Fox found himself more inclined to sharper details after he had lost his eye. The zip and unzip of the redheaded woman’s leather jacket sounded louder than it should have been as he scanned the blueprints and planning set out for observation. With his right eye(well, right empty socket, to be precise) was blocked out by an eyepatch, he was forced to continually shift the papers around to where he could actually see them. But while reading a few simple papers was a nuisance, working with one eye while behind a sniper rifle was mere second nature, perhaps even above. Although, he was already scouting out weak spots and mentally writing out potential strategies as he went over the layout of the estate, Fox was still undecided. A target this high-profile was bound to have a security check in place, somewhere and setting off a alarm was difficult to bounce back from. Not that he didn't enjoy a good challenge, but it was different when he was relying on someone else rather than himself. “Estate this big, hard to maneuver around, even with the layout at hand. Richest asshole in the state is gonna want to protect his shit, hire more hands to watch all this land, probably implant a security system or two. So, easy, maybe. But quick?” Fox snorted rather than finish the sentence, displaying contempt at the very notion of rushing the mission. If Roux didn’t want loose ends, then careful and calculated was the method to choose. Which wasn’t the way he typically did things – in fact, he liked to worked alone, as overused as the phrase was, and exclusively on assassination jobs, not robberies. Being a hired gun almost always guaranteed getting paid at the end of the day when there was a client anticipating confirmation of success before transferring the money while robberies, on the other hand, were far more sporadic and unpredictable in every sense of the word. But Fox was nothing if not unpredictable.
Fox found himself gazing up at Roux when she inquired about him knowing what she wanted him for, his eyebrows furrowing as he leaned backwards into his seat. “I figured you wanted a sniper on the job,” He shrugged, though his voice suggested he was beginning to have second thoughts about what he was here for. There were limited spaces in the estate that would make for good sniping positions, even less so if invisibility was a priority but resourcefulness was among his admittedly rather restricted skillset. “Because unless that’s the case, I’d recommend finding another partner.” One of the many reasons he preferred solo missions were his tendencies to take risks, subconsciously back himself into a corner, run into head on collisions with danger and the like. Even more so if the chances of his surviving were low. Half of it was just plain thrill-seeking, one of the reasons he became a sniper for hire in the first place, too but the other half was only because while living or dying was all the same to him, Fox couldn’t deny that the latter was constantly the more desirable. He can’t imagine that a suicidal, egotistical crackshot was the most appealing when it came partners in crime, especially when there were only two working the job, so it raised the question whether he was Roux’s last choice and she was really desperate or if she genuinely wanted something he had.
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The Heist
Dec 8, 2016 14:47:44 GMT
via mobile
Post by нσωℓ on Dec 8, 2016 14:47:44 GMT
Roux nodded when Fox mentioned it would be easy, but not quick. A glint in her eye said that this was one thing she had carefully considered. When he said he guessed she wanted a sniper, otherwise she'd have to hire someone else she let out a sharp laugh. "It will be slow, and it's not for someone who will gawk at the danger if something goes wrong." Roux pushed herself from her chair to place a hand on his broad shoulder as she leaned in to whisper in his eye. "I need someone who's not afraid to die." Roux's voice was a bit chilling, and for added dramatic affect she traced along his jaw with a dark velvet painted nail. Being a sniper helped, but his lack of hesitance at becoming a part of the body count was clear. With only one partner one casualty may be half the group, but she'd have no real losses if he were collateral. "Tell me Fox, why are you doing this job? You don't seem to like it." The redhead threw herself back into the chair, kicking her legs up on the table. "Why don't you grab a bottle and a few glasses and we get to know each other before tomorrow night?" Her finger now directed him towards a small fridge a few feet behind and waved towards the chair on the other side of her. "Might as well become friends before we rob this guy blind."
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Post by paradox on Dec 10, 2016 4:39:26 GMT
“Fair enough.” A wry grin had made a crook in his mouth at Roux’s answer, the lightest chuckle punctuating the few words. He was joining her side as an expendable, then. It was a classification he had easily gotten used to during his course as a hired hitman; although clients knew it made for bad reliability, this death wish of his was often more of an advantage than not – with nothing to lose yet much to gain, Fox puts his life on the line and even despite his best efforts – was still somehow walking. He failed to shy away from Roux’s touch, head turning to face her instead and lock their gazes as her fingertip ran along his jawline. A breath escaped his chest when the woman pulled away but even he wasn’t sure whether it was of relief or loss. He had made to take a second glance at the papers strewn out, since he was apparently now officially in this when Roux spoke again.
Fox seemed to glower at the prospect of being ordered around, but would have eventually gone for a drink anyway and thirst always seemed to win out over his pride. Pulling away from the array of blueprints and outlines, he crossed the floorboards towards where she had gestured. But rather bother with the fridge, Fox went for a whiskey bottle on the counter and a couple of glasses, too, though he would have preferred to just drink the liquor straight out of the bottle. Returning to the Roux, he poured out the whiskey into the glasses on the table in front of her, not bothering with the question of whether she was even a whiskey person since he’d just end up drinking her half anyway. Watching the hard liquor spill out of the bottle and pool into the glass, he answered her question, “If this job goes to hell, then I’ll get taken out, either by one of their guns or my own. And if everything goes smoothly, then I’ll make a shit ton of money. Either way you spin or twist it, I still win.”
A smug grin made its way back on to his mouth, a look that seemed to belong there despite everything. “Can’t say the same for you, though. So, the better question would be why are you doing this job? You seem to have more at stake.” An eyebrow raised at the question, turning to face her as he offered Roux one of the whiskey glasses, settling into the chair beside her and already taking shooting back his own half of the liquor. “Can’t imagine you okay with getting snuffed out like I am.”
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The Heist
Dec 10, 2016 6:07:14 GMT
via mobile
Post by нσωℓ on Dec 10, 2016 6:07:14 GMT
Biting her lip as she watched him pour the whiskey she held a certain intensity of attention when he spoke. His question only evoked a laugh from her. Giving him a moment to chew on her reaction she easily downed the glass poured for her, not at all surprised he went for the harder liquor over a bubbly and fruity champagne. Fox was just that kind of person it seemed. "Maybe it does seem I have more at stake. Maybe you can't say the same for me." Snatching his glass from his hand leaned forward to press her face closer to his again, having no respect for personal space. "But here's the catch, love. I can't." Cocky as ever the, now seemingly insane, woman took a sip from his glass, savoring the taste for a moment. "Good choice, I gotta say. Hard stuff's more fun than bubbly shit." As she pressed the glass back into his hand, curling her fingers around his before leaning back into her own seat. It was clear that Roux truly believed she couldn't die, but whether that was due to sheer insanity or her confidence in avoiding it wasn't clear. Her unabashed confidence was certainly something, however, and so was the indiscernible look in her eyes. Her sparkling eyes scoured him, lingering on his eyepatch, jaw, chest, arms, and any other part of him that caught her interest. After settling down they bore into his own eye, holding a rather charged stare as she poured herself another glass, and him too. "Anything I could lose that would truly bother me at this point is gone. I have nothing worth dying over anymore; all of this stuff could be gone tomorrow and I'd still take on this heist like nothing had changed. Everything I value's already gone. That's why; there is only the thrill of the next steal."
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Post by paradox on Dec 13, 2016 5:49:57 GMT
Fox seemed more agitated by Roux snatching his liquor straight out of his hand than he did by her words, his one eye narrowing slightly as he watched her steal a sip. “It’s certainly cheaper,” He replied with a shrug towards Roux’s comment on the whiskey; alcohol was all the same to him, didn’t have a preference and usually just grabbed whatever was nearby. Especially during situations like these. Neither of them seemed to have their head screwed on right, which could either end up working in their favor – alike minds make a formidable team – or against them, too erratic to work for or with anyone but themselves. If Fox wasn’t misreading reading Roux’s, it sounded more like she was more of a thrill-seeker than a thief. Which made things significantly more interesting.
“Nothing to lose just means more opportunities. Nothing holding you back, nothing to think twice about,” Fox finished the sentence off by kicking back his drink as soon as Roux had handed it back to him, a faraway look in his eye as he spoke before it broke off as soon as he polished off the rest of the whiskey. He immediately went to work on pouring himself another drink, taking glimpses of the redheaded woman at the corner of his eye. Call it a case of takes one to know one, but Roux seemed a little off her rocker. He knew of people who were simply born this way, but for some – him included – it took a significant event (or events) to reach this point. Fox was interested in finding out where Roux stood, maybe it was on both sides, maybe she had a similar story to his. Hell, maybe they had even been neighbors in the psych ward.
“You implied you used to have something. Someone?” Fox turned slightly to give Roux a cheeky, mocking grin at the suggestion before taking his second drink and shooting it back, wary of getting his liquor stolen again. Hopefully, she wouldn't be as sticky hands with the heist money as she was with their whiskey. “Where did it all go?” He leaned back into his seat, a smug expression having settled once again as his one eye flickered over her figure, a glint of sharp curiosity and his index finger clinking against side of his empty whiskey glass.
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Post by нσωℓ on Dec 13, 2016 6:30:28 GMT
"Hmm... Someone." Roux hummed with lips pressed together softly, swirling the liquor in her glass as she feigned interest in it. A hand went to brush at her curls, her index finger curling a few strands around it idly. Now what was he poking his nose in her business for, and especially in that department? Fox's curiosity left a distaste for eye contact in her mouth, not wanting to linger on the subject very much. "He died, long time ago." The words hung in the air a bit, leaving a tad of a chill between them. Speaking of the man felt taboo, and was clearly something she'd never disclosed before. Back then she would have died for him, but he died for her and here she was alone. "I lived though. Still am living; might as well enjoy it." "Already making judgements 'bout me darling? Don't worry you're not the only one judging." She feigned a yawn before finishing off another glass. As the glass clinked against the table her eyes shot up to meet his, delivering an ice cold stare. "Tell me, you ever lose someone? Or did someone throw you away? You have that kicked puppy look to you that strays get. Yeah, don't think I didn't notice that. Did you even get to have anyone to hold onto?" If he was going to drill her she'd drill him, right down to the uncomfortable seeing as that's how he decided to play it. Roux decided she was ready to play too, throwing her jacket over the back of her chair and loosening the top buttons of her button up, and she smiled ready to get comfy in the uncomfortable.
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Post by paradox on Dec 16, 2016 23:27:51 GMT
The answer left Fox unsurprised, having figured as much. “Hey, we’re friends now, aren’t we?” He spoke in response to his “making judgements”. Since he felt it was safe to assume that she had given the truth, or as close to the truth as he was going to get, it would be only fair to return the favor. He rolled the question around in his mind, searching past his memories as a gun for hire, attempting to regather remnants of his old life and piece them back together. His subconscious had done a pretty good job of suppressing the life he had lived before he had come to call himself “Fox”, back when he had been called “Detective” instead and way back when he couldn’t shoot for shit. It felt more like he was peering into someone else’s life than his own, the person he used to be little more than a stranger now.
Fox barked out a short laugh at the mention of a kicked-puppy-look, the off-course assumption rousing his amusement. Roux’s attempt to prick him with a sense of uncomfort was sorely misfired. “And I thought I was the one with bad eyesight. ‘fraid you’re on the wrong track there, dear. Didn’t lose anybody and didn’t get thrown away either. It was more of a misplace of trust on my part, or maybe I just got what was coming,” A soft shrug finished off the words. A couple of partners on the police force, crooked and corrupt in every sense of the word but still the closest thing he had to friends back then, had been more than willing to use him as cannon fodder and it had all snowballed from there. Sometimes he wondered whether it was just because he couldn’t keep up with the rest of them, that maybe he had deserved to get left behind the way he did.
“The only reason I’m still here is because I got really unlucky and survived the event,” Fox grinned, wryly at his own words, once again pouring himself a drink but filling the glass a little higher this time around.
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The Heist
Dec 24, 2016 8:43:18 GMT
via mobile
Post by нσωℓ on Dec 24, 2016 8:43:18 GMT
"Of course we're friends!" The redhead was obviously offended by his implications, mouth agape and brow furrowed. It was shrugged off with a drink however, and she took on a taste of indifference. "Still, that leaves you looking like a kicked puppy. Deny it all you want, you're still left looking a tad bit helpless." Roux pushed her glass away for now, pursing her lips in a manner that left her face looking rather cat-like and sly. As her leg brushed against Fox's under the table she purred at him "Think you can find something in the bottom of that glass? You seem pretty intent on getting to it. Do me a favor and try to avoid being super hungover tomorrow. We have a big show to get on the road, don't we?" There was something about him that drew her in, made her desire to be closer, to reach across the table and grab him by the collar, but she didn't. Instead she merely stared intently into his dark eyes from her seat the table, something dark sitting behind her own blue ones. A finger tapped at her ruby lips, but she said nothing more. There was something she wanted but didn't let on enough for him to be sure. In fact, she wasn't quite sure either. Roux did feel, however, she had found a very good match in a partner for this scheme, and perhaps future ones, should he choose to survive.
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Post by paradox on Jan 3, 2017 5:10:07 GMT
Fox seemed both equal amounts of amused and perplexed towards the Roux’s offended response at his jesting attitude towards their apparent newfound friendship, surprised at how seriously she had taken it but finding it humorous nevertheless. Humorous and interesting, rising the idea of just how quickly she had gotten attached to this partnership of theirs. He decided to hold his tongue about her firm grip towards this “kicked puppy” vibe he allegedly had, still unconvinced and vaguely irritated that she would suggest it at all but he would rather not indulge the woman. Although he didn’t want to feed into her interest, it was clear enough that his feelings were little more than merely offended, which in turn, incidentally, manifested in the very look she had been talking about.
The appearance fell away as Fox seemed to consider her words on his drinking, lightly tipping the glass back and forth in thought before seemingly shrugging the comment and his own misgivings off and going for another fill, anyway. “I’ve worked under worse,” Was his verbal reasoning, grinning all the while and raising his eyebrows to pinpoint his words. While his words stood true, Fox failed to relinquish any information as to exactly how efficient this work of his had been while under the influence. The way he saw it, as long as the job got done, the process didn’t matter nor how messy it happened to be. Certainly made things more interesting, anyhow.
“Actually, it might be best if we both turn it for the night. Like you said, big show tomorrow and all,” Fox said, quickly polishing off the rest of his glass, Roux’s comment of ‘finding something at the bottom of his glass’ at the back of his mind all the while. She was an interesting lady – to say the least. A burning, volatile red hot flame, enigmatic and pretty as a rose. The slight brushes and touches did not go unnoticed, not accidental but Fox remained wary. He knew enough about himself to recognize the same unhinged demeanor in her. He found himself growing a liking to her, either way, maybe it was the likeness between them, maybe he was just lonely. While he was unsure whether she’ll make a good partner, much less a reliable one, Roux will certainly be an interesting one to work with. Fox had gathered himself back up from his seat, running fingers through his dark hair with a leering gaze on the redheaded woman.
“You ever even do something like this before?” Strange parting words, but he found himself asking anyway. It was definitely a bit late to be asking, but Roux didn’t strike him as the sort to pull this off herself. She seemed more like the mob boss-type, lackeys wrapped around her finger, maybe got her hands dirty every once in a while but only for the thrill of it. Fox couldn’t help but grin slightly at the thought of Roux decked out in a mob boss getup, would certainly look good on her but he had the inkling that she’d pull off any look, anyway.
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Post by нσωℓ on Jan 3, 2017 5:55:02 GMT
While Fox seemed okay with a sloppy job Roux wasn't quite fond of one, and that's where they differed it seemed. "Don't go and make a mess of this job, I pay for quality of work, remember that. Not to mention I'm paying you on top of your share of the loot-" The woman drummed her fingers on the table, her grey nails clicking out steady against the polished wood. "If you don't make a mess of things that is." She hoped this would entice him, Roux already had more money than she would need, and would be gaining even more from this job. Money meant very little to her in all honesty, she lived in an apartment building and despite the spaciousness and overall quality of the apartment her bills weren't exactly bleeding her dry. "And hey, if I like how you work we can discuss future opportunities over dinner afterwards." Add a wink for that classic Roux effect; it would take a good bullet wound or two to keep her from teasing this man, it had proved fun.
"Not a bad idea, I'll grab a bath and pamper myself a little bit before bed to get ready for our big day tomorrow." She started to get up, but stopped with a frown on her face. "You got a place to crash tonight? Better not be thinking about driving after those drinks either. I am not going to have to wake up tomorrow to find out I don't have a partner for this." Fox seemed reckless, maybe a little too reckless at times. While Roux hated to be that person she might have to mother him and steal his keys if he were planning on being stupid. This man had a deathwish that would just have to wait. "Crash here if not, I'm sure I have the space to accommodate your many needs."
As Roux stood up to grab the bottle and what remained of it's contents to stash it back under the bar his question caught her by surprise. For a second she stood there like a deer caught in the headlights; was it not obvious? Though when she spun back around to see his little grin she let out a laugh. "You realize I run an organization for stuff like this? I hired outside for this job of course, though. I have my reasons for it, don't worry." Roux was careful not to give him more info than he needed; if she could trust him she'd share more then but for now she was careful.
After thumbing the bottle in her hand for a moment as she looked the rather rugged man over she relented and pulled out a glass, an older one that once had a design but now all that was left of said design were a few wisps of white surrounding it's scratched sides. While it was clear the glass was not meant for her she filled it halfway anyways before putting the bottle away. She made no move to give him any answers until he asked, and instead she diverted attention back to the matter she felt was more pressing. "So you got somewhere to go that doesn't involve driving or am I housing a guest tonight?"
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Post by paradox on Jan 5, 2017 8:12:00 GMT
“Don’t worry, I’ll be on my best behavior,” Fox made a show of briefly holding his hands up in a gesture of swearing on his words, signature haughty grin plastered across his face, the same expression that’s been perfected through excessive use of sealing deals with clients time and time again. While his and Roux’s definition of “best behavior” might differ somewhat, Fox had every intention on seeing the task through to completion by any means necessary because even with all his quips, risky behavior and overall unpredictability, he did take his job seriously. And while getting paid at the end of it all was top priority, Fox enjoyed what he did for a living, a dream career of sorts for him and felt he wouldn't be doing himself justice if he always choose to half-ass the jobs he took on. An eyebrow quirked slightly when Roux mentioned the potential of a future of continuing to work together, expression ambiguous on the implication. “Sure, maybe,” His words were dismissive, clearly not nearly as invested in the idea, might have already decided against it. The concept of gaining a partner of any sort eluded him, in one ear and out the other. The last time he had worked together with anyone had been back in the day, when he hadn't called himself Fox and hadn't been an assassin for hire. Needless to say, he didn’t exactly look back on those days with fondness - in fact, he actively worked to repress those memories altogether. He had his own reasons for working solo, not wanting to repeat anything from his past being one of them.
Fox scoffed slightly, a contortion of disbelief and sardonic amusement when Roux expressed her disdain at him driving home. “What – do I really look that much of a lightweight?” Alright, perhaps he was feeling slight effects of the liquor but as long as he was still standing and speaking smoothly, Fox figured he was enough control of his motor skills and judgement to get back home in one piece. Fox had very high standards on how this death wish of his should be done and a DWI crash wasn’t on the list.
“Wouldn’t want to impose or whatever it is they say. I’ll walk to the nearest motel, alright? Save all your mothering for tomorrow.” He grabbed his coat off the back of the chair he had taken, working on setting it back over his shoulders and over the guns stashed away at his belt. However, as soon the woman replied to his question, his movements seemed to slow or still entirely in surprise at the laugh that precipitated her response before he shrugged it off. “Yeah, ‘course I knew.” He hadn’t.
Fox hadn’t known, but the answer didn’t come as much of a surprise as it should have been, possibly in part of his previous observation. It was interesting information, nevertheless. Organization, hiring outside help…Interesting information if he cared about any of it, but it probably wouldn’t be difficult to find someone who did care, who would pay good money for this sort of intel, depending on how high of a status this redhead held. “Sorry to disappoint, girlie, but you’ll be sleeping alone tonight. I’ll be seeing you tomorrow, though. Look forward to working with you and all that,” Fox punctuated his last few words with a finger gun gesture in Roux’s direction, swiftly turning and out the doorway in one smooth maneuver.
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The Heist
Jan 6, 2017 19:31:23 GMT
via mobile
Post by нσωℓ on Jan 6, 2017 19:31:23 GMT
Despite his claims of walking to a motel Roux still eyed Fox carefully. Better safe than sorry, and she wouldn't press the issue and upset him the night before. Best to just take his word. "Alright, that's good enough for me. Use the one down the street to the left. Check in with Lévesque as the surname if you wanna put it on my tab. They'll know at the desk, so no need to even say anything." It was clear she'd done this schtick before, and that the motel owner had some kind of business with her. Whether or not her "tab" was something she paid herself or was forgotten altogether through more questionable payments was unclear. Roux could tell the look on his face; he didn't give a shit about any information she gave him, but he could find somebody who would. Right now her job was to make him either like her enough to not share it, or make him afraid to open his mouth. For now like was the safer option, he didn't even have anything worth that much yet anyways. Still, best to be careful. Exposure was not something she could risk at the moment. With a wave she saw him out the door, watching him leave from the kitchen. Once she heard the door click shut she mumbled "And I'm looking forward to working with you" with raised eyebrows. After waiting long enough for Fox to be gone she stretched her arms and went about her bedtime routine, eager to put her plan in action the next day.
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Post by paradox on Jan 12, 2017 4:28:18 GMT
Fox follows Roux’s direction to the motel but doesn’t take her up on the offer of putting his check-in on her tab. That gesture, in addition to her earlier offer of staying the night were far too personal for his taste. He wasn’t too keen on getting wrapped up in the woman’s business any more than he had to; he had enough on his plate without this Roux person getting the idea that they were any more than temporary partners. Under the glow of the motel’s dim neon sign, he hopes this’ll be the last time that he’ll have to spend a night in a ratty motel. Higher class, expensive hotels were far more difficult to weave through as a hired gun with all the security and neat bookkeeping but it was the type of risks he was willing to take, all for nothing more than reclining in an elegant hotel room, reserved only for himself. If Roux held true to her word (and he to his on behaving) and the job went down smoothly, then he might be closer to it than initially thought.
He goes through the motions of booking a room for one night, gives the receptionist a fake name and pays with blood money before heading to the assigned room. Mental exhaustion is prevalent as always, but it isn’t until he takes a couple steps further into the motel room that the weariness begins to seep into his shoulders and spread into his limbs; the stress and tolls of the day finally catching up, the whisky only helping in the drowsiness. He roughly kicks the mud-caked boots off his feet, doesn’t bother to turn on the lights as he makes his way to the television set. Fox flicks through the channels, untying the string holding the eyepatch against his head as he searches for something to play as no more than mere noise in the background for the rest of the night. Already falling asleep on his feet, he decides on some bullshit art gallery show before finally settling on the bed, a soft sigh escaping him as he does. The eyepatch dropped on the nightstand and his dual pistols tucked underneath his pillow, Fox practically collapses across the mattress and lets the sound of passing cars and the television’s droning lull him to sleep.
The hours go by in a slow, dreamless passing and Fox wakes up again, feeling no more rested than he did when he had gone to sleep. His single eye opens briefly, lazily, tempted to shut again but unable to with the stinging rays of the sun filtering through the window across the room. “Richest asshole in the state,” He reminds himself through a whisper, quietly willing himself to get up and out of bed. Somehow, someway, through the next course of a couple hours, he manages to leave the bed and take a quick rinse in the shower, dressing in the same clothes as yesterday but he’ll be in tactical gear soon enough, anyway and then checking out of the motel. Fox considers paying Roux a visit just for the hell of it, but decides that seeing her again at the meeting point is enough. Remembering his earlier thoughts of keeping a distance, keeping it professional between he and the redheaded woman, he makes his way back to his car. All his gear and gadgets were stashed and locked safely away in his trunk, everything he’ll need set and ready to go for the upcoming mission. With another sideways glance towards Roux’s building, Fox gets into his car and starts his way to the meetup.
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Post by нσωℓ on Jan 16, 2017 0:58:38 GMT
Roux started the day lazily, groaning at the thought of getting out of bed as her alarm buzzed and buzzed and buzzed. It was another day to trudge through, and she still had to figure out an angle to work over Fox. She wanted him to work for her, and Roux got what she wanted. Perhaps he'd enjoy their heist and choose to stick around, or she could honeypot him with another job. Regardless she needed to figure out something. Despite never having approached him personally before this heist she knew enough about him to want him underneath her. Roux had her own goals, and Fox made the perfect tool for getting what she needed to achieve them. She couldn't afford to let him walk away from her after this.
Yet this determination was not quite enough to get her going with pep; in fact, getting out of bed was rather challenging for her. It took a bit for her to turn off the alarm, doing so begrudgingly, and with a scowling face the woman pulled herself up to sit resting back on the headboard. With a furrowed and disgruntled glare at the picture frame on the nightstand she snatched her phone from beside the glass half-filled glass of whiskey in front of it. Scowl still on her face she rang up an old friend in her contact book, having to take a minute looking at the contact's photo to be sure it was the right man. A few minutes of short conversation told her Fox did check int0 the motel she had asked him to, even leaving the tab to her. Good, good. One step towards trust at least. she thought to herself. As she hung up a sharp sigh escaped her. The day had yet to start and she already hated it. Time to fake it til she made it.
With a forced energy she pushed herself from the bed and to the closet. Using a tank to hide the bullet-proof vest under her buttoned-up tank was a smart move, one she had learned to make over time. Cargo pants, pockets filled with ammo and small tools, were the typical choice as well, and Roux would be damned before she forgot her signature leather jacket. Pausing to grin at the words emblazoned on the back, chuckling at the phrase "Are you nasty?" before heading off in her hybrid car. You could be a crime-boss, ass kicker and still be environmentally conscious, right?
Regardless, she still made it to the rendezvous point, leaving her weapons in the car until they were ready to hit it up. The coffee shop was discrete enough, and her sunglasses would keep recognition at bay for now, but she still made sure the brush her hair to the side that would cover part of her cheek tattoo. Once there she grabbed an outside table, kicking back and scrolling through her phone as she waited. Fox would show when he was ready, and she wasn't eager to flag him down and draw attention to them.
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