Kaito Kuroba 黒羽快斗 (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
whiteofcrime) wrote in ![[community profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/community.png)
cityofglymmer2019-04-23 01:19 am
whiteofcrime) wrote in cityofglymmer2019-04-23 01:19 am
Entry tags:
[closed]
Who: Kaito (Dove) and Akira (Red)
Where: At some unnamed auction house known for shady dealings
When: Last week of April
They were both agreed: the mark was to be an unscrupulous art dealer, known to trade in paintings obtained through suspicious or illicit circumstances. Their target? A landscape of the sea, done in vibrant, expressive oils, which was slated for auction in a few days' time. Dove had thoroughly researched the individual, the artwork, and the place of auction. Between himself and his partner-in-crime, they had easily come up with a framework for how they'd execute the theft.
All that was left was to send the notice.
He hadn't expected the other guy to so readily agree to it, but it did add another point in their favour on his mental tally. Sneaking in and taking the prize was easy. Easy and boring. If they were going to do this, they might as well make a statement about it. Red agreed.
R--, you have sinned;
You tricked and cheated innocents out of
their valuable works of art for personal gain.
We will be taking the Tempestuous Tide
from the G-- Auction House at 9:30pm.
The card was 'signed' with a simple doodle of a red dove. Dove's touch - it was merely a combination of the names they had adopted. He left that card on the art dealer's desk when they took a break to use the bathroom, smirking to himself from his hiding spot when he saw their face grow splotchy red with anger. He stayed long enough to see them crumple the card in their fist then left to convey the news to Red. They were committed now.
Fast-forward to the day of the heist. Security had visibly thickened - nothing they hadn't accounted for in their plans. Dove settled his 'mask' a bit more securely on his nose and switched the light on, grinning as the blue glow lit up his face. He was already inside the auction hall, hidden amongst the light rigs above the stage. The technician normally in charge was out cold and bound over to the side.
Despite to their limited funds, Dove had insisted on procuring a pair of basic two-way radios in order to communicate. Simple, clunky, but they did their job.
"I'm in position," he murmured into the radio, keeping one ear tuned to the auctioneer calling out bids and numbers below.
Where: At some unnamed auction house known for shady dealings
When: Last week of April
They were both agreed: the mark was to be an unscrupulous art dealer, known to trade in paintings obtained through suspicious or illicit circumstances. Their target? A landscape of the sea, done in vibrant, expressive oils, which was slated for auction in a few days' time. Dove had thoroughly researched the individual, the artwork, and the place of auction. Between himself and his partner-in-crime, they had easily come up with a framework for how they'd execute the theft.
All that was left was to send the notice.
He hadn't expected the other guy to so readily agree to it, but it did add another point in their favour on his mental tally. Sneaking in and taking the prize was easy. Easy and boring. If they were going to do this, they might as well make a statement about it. Red agreed.
You tricked and cheated innocents out of
their valuable works of art for personal gain.
We will be taking the Tempestuous Tide
from the G-- Auction House at 9:30pm.
The card was 'signed' with a simple doodle of a red dove. Dove's touch - it was merely a combination of the names they had adopted. He left that card on the art dealer's desk when they took a break to use the bathroom, smirking to himself from his hiding spot when he saw their face grow splotchy red with anger. He stayed long enough to see them crumple the card in their fist then left to convey the news to Red. They were committed now.
Fast-forward to the day of the heist. Security had visibly thickened - nothing they hadn't accounted for in their plans. Dove settled his 'mask' a bit more securely on his nose and switched the light on, grinning as the blue glow lit up his face. He was already inside the auction hall, hidden amongst the light rigs above the stage. The technician normally in charge was out cold and bound over to the side.
Despite to their limited funds, Dove had insisted on procuring a pair of basic two-way radios in order to communicate. Simple, clunky, but they did their job.
"I'm in position," he murmured into the radio, keeping one ear tuned to the auctioneer calling out bids and numbers below.
no subject
[the guy is knowledgeable; Red gives him that. he knows his security systems, his way around a building's blueprints, and how to draw an audience. Red would even daresay he's way better at this thief thing than Red himself, which. . . admittedly isn't hard. stealing metaphysical treasures from someone's cognitive landscape was far different than stealing priceless artwork. it's one reason Red has no problem stepping back and letting Dove do most of the planning. he knows when to let other people shine, and when he should step in and do his part]
[the calling card is pretty good, too. the way it's signed is unique and memorable without giving away their names-- code, or otherwise. he can appreciate how it elicits the same guilty indignation the ones he and his crew had left at home did, too. this guy. . . he had managed to get away with trading away pieces of artwork through underhanded means for way too long. and now?]
[that was going to change]
[on the day of the heist, Red positions himself near the exit of the auction hall. the plan was simple: Dove would get them inside the building and actually take the painting, and Red would make sure they had a clear way out. through (mild) use of force, if necessary. hopefully that wouldn't be too necessary; Red wasn't afraid a good scuffle, but he had zero desire to actually hurt anyone. still. . . he has a bright blue water gun tucked into the inside pocket of his jacket and the top hat given to him by the guild pulled over his features. he wouldn't let them get arrested on their very first job]
[the radio buzzes in his hand, and Red lifts it up to murmur into the speaker]
The frog has settled on the lily pad.
[A BEAT. . .]
-- yeah, that means I'm here, too. [RED PLEASE] Looks like the guards have positioned themselves around the walls. You might need a little distraction before you swoop in and do your thing.
no subject
Don't worry, I've got an opener to take care of them.
[ Plans upon plans upon plans. This is Dove's favourite moment: when everything is settled and the curtain is about to rise, when there's no longer any time to change what you're about to do and success depends on you and only you carrying it through to the end. He's overcome greater challenges than this alone - how hard can this be with an ally?
He takes a simple remote switch out of his pocket. Dove admittedly had to make some concessions to his moral code in order to facilitate tonight's strategy. He had stolen some simple electronics from a store in the market district, leaving an anonymous note in which he promised to pay the owner back next month.
9:28pm. Below, the auctioneer has begun introducing the painting they're targeting. Deliberate timing or pure luck? Dove isn't going to question it.
He presses the button.
A recording begins to play over the speakers, overriding the auctioneer. Past the initial, confused garble of words, the horrifying truth emerges: ]
"--was my father's final work! You said you were just taking it to appraise its value! That painting belongs to my family!!"
"Now now, you willingly signed the contract remember? See? Your signature is on the line here."
"Because you told me it was part of the process! You lied to us!"
"You had every opportunity to read the terms before signing. I'm afraid I'll have to ask you to leave if you continue behaving aggressively."
[ The recording continues on as murmurs begin amongst the bidders. The man at the centre of them, in the front row, jumps to his feet, cheeks splotchy red and voice raised. ]
"Someone is slandering me! What are you guards all standing around for? FIND THE BASTARD!"
[ Red may get some people headed his way as a group goes to investigate the AV room. ]
no subject
[wow]
[this little part of the plan wasn't something Red had been in on, and the moment those voices play over the speakers, he finds himself pushing away from the wall and standing up a little straighter. it's not exactly how the heists of the Phantom Thieves went back home-- they stole hearts and distorted desires, made the guilty confess their crimes to the public personally-- but. it's similar, isn't it?]
[another means to an end that Red can appreciate. he mutters under his breath words that are for himself and himself only]
Damn. . . not bad.
[-- but then the crowd of men start to head in his direction to investigate the AV room, and. . . well. he pauses, because he's suddenly struck by an ingenious idea.]
[he turns away from the approaching group, lifting the radio to his mouth to mutter quickly]
Is there anything you need in the AV room? Otherwise, I think our new friends might enjoy spending some quality time in there by themselves.
[i.e. locked inside, so they can't give chase when Dove steals the painting]
no subject
Nah, knock yourself out. Everything else should be as planned.
[ Keyword: 'should'. Dove knows all to well that something is bound to go wrong once you loose chaos.
While the auctioneer is calling for calm, he holds out his fist. Between the rigging, a small, metallic capsule falls, breaking open upon impact to spill out copious amounts of thick, pink smoke. As the clouds rise to cover the stage, he drops down and lands lightly on all fours, making his way over to the podium by memory. The auctioneer is coughing somewhere off to the side. Dove leans towards the microphone with a grin and speaks: ]
As per our notice, we'll be taking the Tempestuous Tide.
[ He can only hope Red managed to successfully lock the AV room, because the 'owner' is baying for blood and the remaining guards will soon be coming after Dove! ]
no subject
[then that's his cue! as the crowd of guards brush past, Red spins on his heel and ducks into the hallway after them, keeping himself pressed stealthily next to the wall so they don't realize he's following. when the last one files into the AV room, he moves quickly and lightly on his feet, tapping into all those honed phantom thief senses to get the job done before he's caught. the door slams behind the men; there's a muffled shout of surprise from inside the room, but Red is already shoving a chair under the doorknob and jabbing a pen into the lock]
[that will buy them some time and space]
Got them.
[of course, not every single guard went to investigate the AV room, and now that Dove is on stage a few of the ones stationed near the back are starting to leap into action. this is where Red's skills come into play, and as he enters the auction room again he finds himself face-to-face with a large man wielding what looks to be a knock-off police baton]
[yikes]
[the man stares at Red in surprise, clearly taken off guard by the top hat and scarf and mask he's donned to keep his features hidden. Red gives him a cheeky wave, before he hits the ground and lashes out with one foot, knocking the guard off balance and sending him crashing onto his back]
Hey, move fast! There are some guards in the back who are trying to head your way!
no subject
He evades the auctioneer's flailing grasp and darts off-stage. Come to think of it, he's never actually been on the run with a whole painting before. The last time he attempted to make off with one, he took only the canvas and left the cumbersome frame behind.
One guard, quicker than the rest, confronts him in the wings. They lunge; Dove skips back and knocks an unused spotlight in their path. He takes advantage of their flinching to hop over some boxes and get past them into the theatre aisles. So far so good.
Then he hears the 'owner' of the painting shout: ]
"There he is, don't let him get away!!"
[ Oof. Dove takes off running, hoping to meet up with Red before his path is blocked by panicking attendees and aggressive men wielding batons. ]
no subject
Never say that I'm not a gentleman who doesn't hold doors open for people.
[he says to Dove, before taking the brim of his own hat in his hand and tipping it forward in a very ~debonair~ gesture]
[OKAY, RED. STOP BEING CHEEKY AND GET THE HELL OUT OF THERE]
no subject
Why thank you. We should hurry before they recover their wits. [ This painting won't hold itself!! He immediately starts moving. ] Original route still good or do we need to adjust?