Realistic or Modern the grand heist [irp]

[amberskies]

trigger warning: this roleplay will contain violence, swearing, drugs, traumatic pasts and other dark themes, proceed with caution​

It was somewhat early in the morning, and though the bustling city of New York was experiencing an outburst of life at around lunchtime, the warehouse perched at its outskirts was going through quite the opposite.

The warehouse itself was a rather small structure, considering it was meant to fit 9 people comfortably; the walls were made up of bricks, and the few windows that were shattered had been covered up with planks of driftwood. Though it was toward the borders of New York City, there was still a fair amount of life going on in the zone. The area wasn't the safest, but that only served as an advantage as it meant no one in the group would stand out. Secrecy was of the utmost importance to the heist group, for they were attempting to execute one of the biggest heists in the last decade, if not century. There were other abandoned warehouses and buildings nearby, though that did not mean they were not being used for illegal activities such as fighting matches, drug deals, prostitution, and more.

Everyone had been told to either leave behind their cellphone or keep it off at all times to prevent them from being traced if someone were to get caught at some point. Instead, their personal cell was replaced by a burner phone to maintain a line of contact between all of the members. Lydia was still in the process of getting used to said burner phone, seeing as she was used to her iPhone rather than a brick of a phone that looked as though it was produced in the early 2000s.

The brunette sat in the living room as she pushed the buttons of the phone, her eyebrows lifting up by a mere hair as she spotted the snake game on the main menu. Contemplating for a moment, she then hit the button corresponding to 'ok' to launch the ancient game. She didn't correlate it with nostalgia, as she was sure many other Americans did; not having a phone growing up meant she didn't know the game existed in the first place. Her poverty-stricken family had different priorities, and purchasing a phone for a teenager was not on that list. Regardless, it seemed like a fun game, seeing as she was sat in the corner of the living room couch, awaiting the arrival of the other heist members in the living room.

To be fair, it could hardly be considered a couch; the wooden front left leg was on the verge of splitting open and causing whoever was on the couch to topple down to the floor. The material was terracotta-coloured and clearly displayed signs of wear and tear with the various little holes that revealed the white stuffing of the cushions. It wasn't too bad, though; had it been smelly or gross in any way, Lydia would not dare sit on it.

Behind the couch was a boarded up window, blocking any rays of sunlight from lighting up the dim room. It should've been bright in the room at this time of day, but it was always ill-lit due to the lack of regular windows. There were a few armchairs scattered about in the vicinity, none of the colours matching with the large couch or one another. A coffee table sat in the middle, and though it was decent, it was rather small. There was no television, though it wasn't something Lydia complained about since they likely would be busy with other heist-related things. The other half of the space was a makeshift kitchen, which really only meant there were a few grey-coloured dusty counters, a mini-fridge, a microwave and a kettle. There was no stove, but rather one of those propane stove-tops for camping. Considering the rent was free, it wasn't too shabby.

The rooms weren't too bad; they were reachable via a hallway connected to the kitchen-living room combo. Each door in the hallway corresponded to a bedroom, with a grand total of 10 rooms. They were not grand by any means; each was quaint and small with a worn-down closet in the corner and a single bed pushed up against the wall. There were absolutely no decorations, though they were allowed to customise their rooms. The last two doors at the end of the hallway opposite one another were two bathrooms.

Lydia shifted momentarily on the couch as she tapped at the buttons of the burner phone, moving the snake around in her little game to eat up the fruits that would spawn. As the seating creaked loudly in response to her movements, she froze as she anticipated it breaking, though luckily nothing seemed to happen. Looking up from her curled up position in the corner of the sofa to see if anyone had shown up yet, her eyebrows lowered into a frown upon realising that her few moments of distraction resulted in her snake bumping into its own tail and ending the game.

They were meant to settle into their rooms with all of their belongings, and then gather in the living room to hear the Sparrow's introduction, rules and instructions. It seemed like Lydia was the first.

the ghost

lydia.

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♡coded by uxie♡

 

[Zerulu]

The New York outskirts were more like a wasteland at this time of day, traffic was minimal, and the people you'd walk past were most likely mutants. Rodri didn't mind too much. However, one thing he'd learnt about situations like this is that the discomfort of living in a safe house is probably the least of your concerns, especially when you have the native wildlife to also watch out for. The warehouse itself wasn't anything to write home about. Of course, you don't want it to be extravagant with neon signs on the outside, but you also don't want it to be falling apart at the seams.

Rodri had walked most of the journey to the safe house, less the fact he didn't have a ride and more he didn't think a car parked out front was very discrete. First impressions? 'it's something,' Rodri thought as he approached the address. As he neared, what he thought were blinds became more obviously planks of wood barring the window, so much for natural lighting. No one else was around yet, and he assumed most of the crew were already congregating inside. This didn't bother him. Being fashionably late had always been his style. Before he entered the building, he made sure to dust himself off. First impressions were everything. Fiddling with the door, he eventually managed to get it open. Something with the lock mechanism must've been broken, not a good sign for the rest of the building.

Making sure to close the door behind him made an audible creak because, of course, it did. Rodri had a go-bag with most of his essential possessions, he didn't exactly know what the room situation would be, but he hoped he didn't have to share a room with anyone. Being cooped up in small places quickly turns anyone crazy unless they have a private zone. As he walked down the hallways, the silence settled in. Was he alone? Had he been the first person actually to get to the warehouse? The initial meeting was to be sometime at lunch. Maybe the New York traffic got them caught up. Rodri beelined for the bedrooms, taking in no account for the kitchen/living room combo as of yet. Stepping into one of the rooms, he placed his bag down on the bed. It was small but private nonetheless. The light fixture seemed to flicker, and there wasn't a window, not a working one anyway. It seemed his room would be kept in the dark.

It was time Rodri got acquainted with the rest of the warehouse. Stepping out of his room, he found his way to the living room. In his shock, there actually was someone there. He stood there dumbfounded for a second. He totally expected to be alone in the building. He wondered if she had heard him enter. In fact, he wondered who she actually was. Still standing in the doorway, he started to introduce himself, "Rod- Ah, The Woodpecker." He caught himself before he said his actual name. It was clear in the dossier that their identities were to be kept secret. That's what he remembered anyway; instead, everyone took the name of a bird. Rodri thought especially clever in his choice of bird. "I suppose you must be The Sparrow? Being here first probably means you are the leader. Though, I would've assumed you were more of a dove." He smirked at his corny way of flirting, unaware she actually was The Dove and that The Sparrow was yet to appear. Rodri took a seat adjacent to Lydia, "We're all that's it, huh?" he said in a jovial manner, lightening the mood.

 

[Breakfeastclub]

The New York City Transit Authority was trash. Bel evaluated as she tried to swipe her metro card through the turnstile for the third time. The MTA tried to sell the con of renovations, more lines, and better and faster service in exchange for price hikes. But they couldn’t fix their fucking machines.

Relax take a deep breath… You can control what you can control.

She took a deep breath and walked over to the booth. Fortunately, there wasn't anyone ahead of her. A man was sitting inside the booth with a blue MTA uniform on. He looked like he was in his mid 50’s.

Be polite and smile. She thought to herself. Bel was reading this new self-help book on how to reengage into society after the military.

“Hey, my metro card isn’t working. Can you open the gate?” Almost forgetting the most important thing. She struggled to muster a half-ass smile.

A Brooklyn accent could be distinguished over the intercom speaker. “Say that again.”

A soft sigh departed from her mouth. Bel awkwardly bent her head trying to speak through the holes in the plexiglass.

“My metro card isn’t working. Can you open the gate?” She stood upright again to her full 5’7 height. And mustering another half-ass smile. Switching the green military duffel bag from her right shoulder to her left.

The MTA worker spoked “Yous tried the turnstile?”

Obviously “Yeah, I did.” She held back an eye roll.

“Alright, let me see the card.” The MTA worker asked.

Handing him her MetroCard. She waited as he typed on his computer. This exchange was taking longer than she anticipated. Hoping she didn’t miss the train.

The MTA worker handed her back her card. And then the gate buzzed.

“Thanks” The awkward grin grew bigger. Bel dashed towards the gate and down the stairs towards the train. She made it inside the train just in time as the doors closed behind her.

Finding a seat, she took out her book from her duffle bag and settled in for a long ride. She was proud of her interaction with the MTA worker. At the beginning of this year, she would have lost her patience, curse, threaten him and hop the train. However, it has been a year since she was dishonorable discharge. And Bel was trying to integrate back into society.

“Last stop” Echoed throughout the train from the overhead.

Pulling herself from her book she exited the train. She had to hurry if she wanted to catch the bus. Bel had to look up the location of the warehouse at home because cell phones weren’t allowed. And the burner phone she had she couldn’t actively get live GPS updates.

Exiting the train station, she took a left and waited at the bus stop. She grinned because it didn’t take long for the bus to approach. Boarding the bus, she remembered her metro card wasn’t working. She dug into her front pockets and pulled out whatever change she had. A dollar and fifty cents… fuck

She inserted her change and the bus driver waved her through.

“Thanks” She continued to the rear of the bus, balancing herself as the bus moved, making her way to an empty seat.

Bel was attentive and apprehensive. Because she was arriving closer to the destination, the warehouse. Looking out the window she noticed that the neighborhoods started to change, from residential to poverty-stricken neighborhoods.

She exited the bus from the rear. She had a few blocks to walk and was surveying her surroundings for unmarked police cars. She didn’t want to cause attention to herself since she was carrying 9mm that was truck behind her back.

Walking towards the warehouse, she was looking for any advantage points that would be potential ambushes. Bel had learned the hard way, to always pay attention to your surroundings. And she swore to herself that she would never make that mistake again.

Finally approaching the warehouse, the disarray of the condition, wasn’t lost on her. She was accustomed to unpleasant living conditions. Fumbling with the lock she pushed open the door and entered.

Isabelle briefly noticed two people in the living/kitchen room. Walking silently she continued down her through the hallway. She stopped at the second to last door on the right. No response. Bel opened the door and noticed an unoccupied bare room. Placing her bag next to the bed.

No place like home

She set on the bed and removed the gun she had position behind her back. She inspected it and checked to see if it was loaded. Although, she already knew that it was. Old hobbits die hard. Now standing, she tucked the gun under her shirt and position it on her left hip. Why did she carry? Well… just on the sole chance that it was a trap. The note left little to no details and Bel found it difficult to trust people. Weighing the odds she figured it was 50/50.

Walking out of the room and closing the door. She retraced her steps from the hallway to the living room. Walking closer she could hear someone talking. Making her way inside the room she noticed that it was a man. Only catching his last sentence of the two of them being only two people here.

Smile, be polite, don’t be so uptight.

She mustered a half-ass smile. “Not quite.” As she walked further into the room. Moving to one of the worn-out armchairs that were closest to the entrance of the living/kitchen room.

 

[amberskies]

Minutes passed, though the impatience hadn't started to set in yet. She couldn't help being somewhat of an early bird; she absolutely hated being among the last to arrive, for that meant people would stare at her as she entered the room. She was by no means shy, hell, she was confident and had a way with her words, but constantly living under a false identity meant that gathering up the least amount of attention possible was beneficial. Standing out was to be avoided.

She went back to playing the little snake game, her eyebrows furrowed in concentration as they always did. Her eyes followed the snake, putting all of her attention into the moving pixels. That is, until she heard the jiggling of the lock from the only door leading into the warehouse. The brunette let the phone drop onto her lap, inevitably causing her to lose the round, and sat straighter than before. She instinctively placed her hand atop the M1911 pistol tucked into the waistband of her jeans, concealed by the thick black hoodie that comfortably sat atop her body. Her eyes were glued on the hallway leading into the room she was sitting within, not a single muscle in her body moving. Her mind told her that logically, it had to be one of the heist members finally arriving, and she knew that was definitely the most probable explanation. But given the fact that the structure was abandoned, it meant she ran the chance of getting caught by the police while she was within the walls of the warehouse. Besides, the girl was paranoid; she had a right to be, given her criminal past and tendencies.

A tall figure emerged into the room, and her hands were just about to pull the weapon out of her pants, when her eyes registered his body language; he appeared surprised yet somewhat relaxed, and did not exhibit any signs of wanting to kill her. He did not bear the badge or uniform that came with being a cop, and he wasn't aiming a gun at her face. She let out a quiet exhale of air and withdrew her hand from her hip as he proceeded to introduce himself as The Woodpecker. His name was easy to associate with his role to play in the heist; instead of pecking wood, he pecked locks open.

Though, there was one thing about him that stood out the most to her; the accent. It resembled hers a lot. She tilted her head curiously as he went on to subtly flirt with her, conjuring an answer in her brain. The corners of her lips turned up into a hint of a smile, leaning back into the couch once more.

"Ah, you're good. I am The Dove.''

She told him. Then, her eyes followed him as he proceeded to take a seat on the worn-down couch, proceeding with her next comment.

"Where are you from?''

She inquired, not wanting to give away her suspicion right off the bat, but nonetheless hinting something.

Then, she heard the clicking of shoes against the flooring of the warehouse and as her head snapped in that direction, her eyes landed on a woman with the most chiselled features she had ever seen.

"Which birdie are you?''

Lydia questioned calmly, feeling the need to put a name to anyones face right off the bat.

the ghost

lydia.

• aaaaaaaaa
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  Zerulu Breakfeastclub

  
  

  
  
  
  
  

  
  
  

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♡coded by uxie♡

 

[Jannah]

So this was it. This was the beginning of the job she had signed on for. Ju-Hyun was unsure whether to feel anticipation for all that was to come, or dread. Of course, there was the chance she was being lured directly into a trap all thanks to her history of dabbling in databases where it was less than legal to pry. It was thrilling, yes, but the young hacker never forgot the risks, not even for a second. Perhaps it had even been foolish of her to agree to this job without even knowing who was truly behind it, a faceless entity for all she knew, but the money was good. Oh, the money was good...

If there was money to be had at all.

Well, I guess either I succeed and become infamous or I end up behind bars for the rest of my life. Is there truly anything to lose now at all?

As soon as she had stepped outside the door of her tiny flat Ju-Hyun took great care to ensure she had on her all supplies she would possibly need. She knew there was no going back home once she left. It was either remain at the safe house until the conclusion of the job, or put the entire operation at risk. Although she had attempted to pack light she still managed to be weighed down by the contents of her duffle bag. It had made for a rather slow walk into the nearest subway station, but it was upon arriving and waiting that the reality of where she was going and who she was truly sank in. Some time to reflect, and perhaps reconsider, if there was such a thing.

It was through some good fortune that the trip was a relative short one, thus hardly allowing for any regrets at all. When she resurfaced, though, Ju-Hyun found herself confronted by sights that had become rather familiar to her. She was in the rougher part of town, neighbourhoods unquestionably plagued by drugs, prostitution, and other such societal ills. She was also quick to realize that some of the men she had helped to bring down had undoubtedly bore a presence in this neighbourhood. Additionally, she almost felt like she fit in some odd and peculiar fashion. She and the rough were practically two peas in a pod now, it seemed.

Ju-Hyun continued walking and she barely took in the sights at all. Instead, she had her eyes focused on a single address she had come to memorize. It was that of the safe house, carefully chosen as to not attract attention from outsiders. The woman could already imagine a run-down trashy looking architectural reject - certainly it was nothing to write home about. Safety and practicality were what truly mattered, of course, and in fact the elaboration she had seen from the entire operation so far gave plenty of indication that whoever was behind it could be trusted.

It was upon arrival that Ju-Hyun wore a smug grin on her face. The presence of the building at the exact address she had been given managed to confirm exactly everything she had expected. She was absolutely right. The place was downright awful on its exterior, but that was exactly the point wasn't it? Few would pay much heed to such a monstrosity. It was clever and she liked it. Now, was the interior any better? That still remained to be answered.

The door was easily opened, no doubt designed to be only accessible to those allowed to be there in the first place. Ju-Hyun knew she was about to be housing with almost a dozen others and she did not even have any way of knowing who had already arrived. Upon entry it was at least revealed that she was not the first. There were two other woman and a lone man all making their first introductions as the hacker felt herself intruding upon them. She silently waved and took a seat in one of the chairs that was about as run-down as the rest of the building.

Continuing to say nothing at all, Ju-Hyun glanced down at the phone she had obtained for the duration of the heist. It was a sorry primitive thing but it was functional. It was only a shame that it did not bear the same intricacies as other similar, and more sophisticated, devices. For now, it would have to suffice. There would be plenty of time to play with the real toys later, breaching networks and disabling entire security systems. Everything to come appeared bliss on its own.

It was after minutes that Ju-Hyun finally glanced up at the others. "Crow, reporting in." She said, making her presence known of one of those who was destined to join this rag tag family of misfits.

 

[FabulousTrash]

Yukimori Izumi - The Sparrow
Location: Home Warehouse
Interations/Mentions: amberskies Jannah Breakfeastclub Zerulu



Izumi was excited for today. She would get to finally meet everyone in person.

Initially, she had her doubts that anyone would be crazy enough to accept the job, but the world was a lot bigger as Izumi found out, having multiple people join up, all the essentials while getting a few extras. As they say, the more the merrier.

Izumi walked down the empty sidewalk in the warehouse district of the city. Her eyes were covered by a pair of Ray Bans plano sunglasses and she kept her head slightly tilted downward. She wasn't sure how many had actually arrived by now, but early introductions weren't always a bad thing. Plus, she wanted everyone to be comfortable with each other. With how long set-up alone was going to take, the crew would be together for a long while, so establishing relationships would be beneficial to the success rate of the finale. Who knows, maybe they would stick together afterwards and hit other targets. But that was a thought for another day.

Izumi approached the door to the warehouse, unlocking it with a key she had on her. She stepped through and immediately went to the living room. Days prior, Izumi already settled in so that she could prepare the space for everyone else. She didn't regularly live in the warehouse however, having a private studio apartment in one of the more smaller areas of New York.

To her surprise, Izumi's eyes were greeting with 4 people already gathered. That was already half. If this kept up, everyone would be here in no time. Izumi reached up, lifting her sunglasses up and rested them on top of her head, clearing her throat to grab the attention of everyone in the room so far. Once all eyes were on her, she gave them a small wave.

"Glad you could all make it. I'm the Sparrow. Nice to finally meet you all in person."

She went over to an empty seat that was positioned in front of everyone else, sitting back. Looking around, she could tell that not everyone had truly relaxed. Even more so, it looked like a few of them were armed with the way their posture was. Izumi said nothing about it and instead got up and moved to the nearby kitchen area.

"Anyone want a drink? I got juice, soda, some beer and other stuff. Help yourselves."

 

[Breakfeastclub]

Running her hand through her hair. Bel couldn’t stop thinking about the opportunity this was going to be. She managed a living by doing odd and end jobs off the books. But nothing stuck. And if she didn’t get fried for her tempter, the work was done once the job was completed.

She lived from couch to couch. So, if this gig was true, it was her way out. To leave her past life behind. To start anew. However, she was never one to put all her eggs in a basket. And she had to trust her life in the hands of these strangers. That wasn't easy.

Hearing the question that was placed towards her. Her head turned to the two on the couch.

Clearing her throat, “Blue Jay. And the two of you are?”

Blue eyes darted to the women that just entered. And watched as she waved and took a seat. She noticed that she was looking at the burner phone. Her attention was then drawn to her words as she announced her code name.

She was the hacker.

She repeated hers as she waited for the other two to respond. “Blue Jay” She musters what started to be her signature half-ass smile.

Her attention was then again placed towards the door as a woman with sunglasses entered. She studied her. Once Bel registered her code name. An impeccable eyebrow rose.

She was the leader…

Bel was not expecting her to be so young. Shit, she wasn’t accepting everyone in the room to look like models from a magazine either. Isabella hoped that their skills at least match their looks. But that was the pot calling the kettle black.

At the offer of refreshments. She just shook her head.

Bel spoke to the entire room. “Too bad we don’t have Hello, my name is stickers. That would come in handy right about now.” She grinned this time.

 

[krypt]

z. hastings - the hitman.

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It was no secret that Zachariah Hastings worked alone. In all honesty, he wouldn’t have minded continuing making his kills in solitude until the day he either kicked the bucket or, preferably, amassed enough funds to fuck right off and retire somewhere warm, sunny and as far away from his contacts as humanly possible. Unfortunately, all he had managed to amass over the years to show for it was an assortment of people who apparently increasingly wanted to put a bullet through his head. Sure, he had some decent savings stashed away in various locations, though that meant little when a single wrong move could easily terminate the trade he had dealt in the last few years.

The warehouse on the outskirts of the Big Apple he was standing in front of an uneventful metro and bus trip later didn’t exactly appear to resemble a five-star beach resort in Cancún, but he didn’t have the prerogative to complain. Or even anyone in his vicinity to notify of his first impressions. Either way, if the outrageous plan succeeded, he could take a vacation for the rest of his life, as long or miserably short it could be. Hell, with the kind of money they were hoping to come into, he might even be able to purchase his own damn resort.

The inconspicuous duffel bag he had slung over his shoulder contained mostly the bare necessities along with a few miscellaneous items. While he had mastered the habit of packing light, there were, after all, enough nondescript storage facilities in New York to store the possessions he may or may not come around to retrieving. Plus, he wasn’t exactly about to trust right off the bat the pack of fellow criminals he was about to become roommates with when privacy evasion was really one picked lock away. Speaking of which, the knives on his person – carefully strapped to his left calf, belt and back – and the pistol neatly tucked away under his shirt were clearly indicative enough of his caution.

With a wary, though discreet, glance backwards he let himself into the building. Letting his eyes rest upon the windows hammered shut with planks and bare walls all around, with cursory disappointment he figured the inside was unlikely to be much of an upgrade from the outside aesthetically. Though perhaps it would have had some potential for a somewhat homely atmosphere in the hands of someone other than a group of hardened criminals planning a robbery. Slowly, Hastings sauntered towards the sound of several distinct voices and had to hold back the instinct of searching for a weapon. In what he supposed was the living room he saw gathered five people: four women and a man. From their looks, he estimated that all of them were roughly his own age and, more importantly, they weren’t visibly armed – although their demeanour was stiff enough to raise suspicions of this – or otherwise appearing as anything other than the crew he would have to work with.

After a small pause in the doorway to scan the kitchen-living room combo and its current occupants, he strolled right inside.

“Well, hello there. A comfy little place we’ve got,”

he spoke nonchalantly, an altogether pleasant and polite lilt to his voice. For now, he paid no attention to the free armchairs or the duffel bag still sat on his shoulder, simply taking several steps towards the kitchen area and then turning back to the others, making sure to adopt a relaxed and open posture. Still, the gaze directed at the others remained vigilant.

The thought of getting settled down in a room, supposing that the other doors down the hallway indeed led to individual rooms for the group members, briefly had to be put on the backburner. For all he cared, for the duration of their project he could sleep on a sofa, splay out on the floor with his bag for a pillow or share a space with the loudest snorers among the team members. Perhaps he was slightly paranoid, a virtue rather than a vice in his line of work, he would claim, and yet he had to make sure that this indeed wasn’t an elaborate trap and none of the others was about to try and slit his throat the second he looked away. Hell, even if their intentions were true and the plan just happened to fail, Hastings' head, attached to his body or not, could grant some pocket money, whether from the local authorities or some moneyed party deeply unhappy with the hitman's work ethics.

“I don’t suppose we’re-”

-going to get welcome drinks around here? He approached the kitchen area and stopped mid-sentence, having apparently just missed an invitation for refreshments from the young woman with sunglasses on top of her head, the only one of the people present who wasn't lounging on the sofa or in one of the armchairs at the moment.

"Oh, you're a saint. I'm parched, mind if I grab something?"

He was willing to settle for anything that came out of a sealed bottle or can, though the sudden idea of being poisoned that sparked in his mind almost caused his lips to purse in a smile. Too bad he had missed the first time the others had introduced themselves and now wasn't certain whether to mention his own codename, the latest addition to the long list of aliases he operated with.

Hastings could only second the idea of stickers. What skepticism remained in his eyes was now gone, and he grinned lightly.

"Yeah, name tags would've been useful. Or maybe, like, solo cups with bird pictures or something."

Not that he could tell most yard birds apart unless they came in bright colours.

"I can't exactly draw a shrike from memory though,"

he mentioned as an afterthought, letting his fingers wander to the handle of his bag. In retrospect, maybe he should've dropped off his belongings first, instead of looming like a cheery tourist who had wandered into the wrong neighbourhood. Well, or a paranoid criminal.

shrike

hozier

♡coded by uxie♡

 

[Zerulu]

The sofa was a lot more uncomfortable than Rodri would have liked to admit. It also seemed his own natural charismatic nature had played very well for him. The woman he met there first very much was the Dove to his own amusement. However, he looked curiously at her when she inquired about where he's from, "For this having to be very secretive and whatnot, that is an awfully personal question" He gave Lydia a stern look before breaking it off into a slight laugh, "I jest, I jest!" He put his hands up as if he was surrendering, "As if you couldn't tell by the dashing looks, I'm from the República de Colombia, of course!" Rodri just had to get a self compliment off in there somewhere, "Where are you from, my Dove?" He leaned back, smirking.

And just like that, they were greeted by more of the crew. Rodri had assumed that's who was entering the safehouse anyway. He was unarmed. He never really carried weapons or anything like that unless totally needed—the woman who introduced herself as 'The Bluejay', chiselled features and all. "The Woodpecker," Rodri responded to the Bluejay's own inquiry into their bird's names, giving out a little laugh at her remark about name badges even; it sure was going to get tiring introducing yourself to so many people in such a short time. And just as he blinked, two more people had joined the crew, the youngest looking one introducing herself as 'The Sparrow', the leader, and then a man, 'The Shrike'.

"Good to meet you too, boss." he wasn't expecting the mastermind behind the heist to be so young looking; however, looks may deceive, and he wasn't about to ask a woman her age. "No drink for me. I would take a tonic; however, it's not a cheat day." He joked, sorta, he didn't have 'cheat' days because he wasn't on a diet or working out, and he never actually really drank tonic water either. "I don't think many of our images would look very different unless there's an artist in our midst." Now there were two new people among them; he decided to introduce himself again, "Woodpecker, by the way." He perked up.

 

[amberskies]

Lydia couldn't help her eyebrows arching up as he mentioned being from Colombia. How funny, she was from there too. His accent was easy to recognise, seeing as she grew up in the country, but she avoided ever making assumptions on people in fear of interpreting them incorrectly. The use of 'my' Dove did not go unnoticed by the woman, either.

"Mm I think you meant The Dove.''

She corrected him as she slipped the burner phone into the pocket of her hoodie.

"Shit, i'm also Colombian."

She answered him afterwards, before her attention shifted to the entrance of the kitchen-living room combo as her ears picked up on footsteps entering. More and more people were filling the room, however she first gave her attention to the woman that had introduced herself as Blue Jay.

"The Dove."

Lydia responded, mentally repeating each name as she looked at each persons face. The Crow, whose hair coloured resembled the bird she was named after. The Sparrow.. well, that one was rather easy seeing as she was the youthful leader. The Woodpecker had certainly left an impression, so did the Blue Jay who had unforgettable features as though carved by a sculptor. She seemed to remember the names right now, but whether they'd stick in her mind after 5 minutes was another question. Her field of crime usually involved studying her targets rather well in advance, meaning she knew their life story prior to encountering them. But this bunch of people? All she had to go off of were aliases, which would've been somewhat doable had they not been bird aliases. It was like meeting people the normal way, which Lydia had grown unfamiliar with.

"The Dove. And.. you're The Shrike, i'm guessing?"

Lydia repeated her alias for what felt like the thousandth time that hour, specifically referring her question to the young man with thick, defined eyebrows and short hair that had just entered. Her first language was Spanish, not English, meaning there was a decent array of words the girl did not know. She simply assumed a shrike was a type of bird, not wanting to admit that she had never heard that word. She sort of recalled it from the leaflet the Sparrow had given them, but her mind was slightly foggy.

There were only five people in the room thus far, and if she remembered correctly there were meant to be around 10 or so, meaning she'd likely have to introduce herself a few more times. The name tag idea was beginning to look real good about now.

As the boss offered drinks, Lydia kindly refused by shaking her head. As odd as it was, she wasn't particularly into soft drinks; she liked water, or hard liquor. There was no in between for her. She wasn't big on coffee, either. It tasted too bitter for her. Beer sounded pleasant now that she thought about it, but she didn't feel like standing up. Not yet, at least.

"I probably won't remember all of your names so, don't get offended if I ask again."

Lydia let everyone know with a short laugh, before taking a minute to take in everyone's appearance. The Sparrow was not what she expected, at all, but Lydia was not one to judge on appearances; based on the summary of the heist plan they had been given, she looked like she knew what she was doing. Besides, Lydia herself was also rather inconspicuous looking yet deadly; The Sparrow may very well be the same.

the ghost

lydia.

• aaaaaaaaa
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♡coded by uxie♡

 

[Breakfeastclub]

Bell was sitting tall in the chair. Her back straight and shoulders pulled back, preventing them from being rounding forward. Good posture was essential for just about everything, like exercising, less muscle, and spinal fatigue. Even washing dishes where’s one back could hurt from doing a simple chore. Bel did flawless pullups; her shoulders never round forward. This also contributed to effortless, powerful snap punches. It also allowed for side to side and front to rear stability while shooting. Essential…

Her left hand in rested the pocket of her dark blue denim jeans. While Bell’s right hand rested on the toned muscles of her upper thigh. Bel’s hand was strategically placed in case she needed to pull out her gun. She considered wearing a concealed holster, but she didn’t want to be caught with a holster on her if today went south. On the other hand, the gun is a ghost gun, much like the burner phone that she was given. The weapon can’t be traced to a buyer or seller. If things went south, she would wipe the gun with the hem of her black V-neck short sleeve shirt. Or with the inside panel of her dark blue no-collar bomber jacket. She was confident that she thought of all the worst-case scenarios she could imagine happening. Although Bel realized she probably should have chosen a smaller gun to bring. It was starting to get uncomfortable. If she got up to stand, this was why. Bel was trained to be in uncomfortable situations. However, why would she put herself through the unnecessary discomfort.

Blue eyes that mirrored dark blue waters, because there wasn’t very much lighting in the warehouse, looked around at everyone.

Everyone wasn’t here yet. Nothing to be worried about. They either like to be fashionable late or was skeptical of the meeting, or a no show. Bel didn’t blame them; this was sketchy. She hoped this was finally her chance at a golden ticket. Hopefully, she wouldn’t do anything in the future to mess up her chances of a lifetime supply of chocolate. Hopefully, neither the people here nor the people who have yet to come, would take this opportunity away from her. So far, so good.

“Cups sounds nice. Blue Jay, by the way.” She grinned, looking at Shrike. Smart
Bel’s grin turned stoic as he concluded this thought. Bel wonder if she would get a chance to see if he matched his codename in brutality.

Snapping out of her thoughts. Her eyes drifted towards the woodpecker as he spoke to her. She simply nodded in response to the woodpecker.
Then her dark blue eyes gazed at the dove as she repeated her codename to her. She simply nodded again.

She got up out of the seat and leaned against the wall closest to the exit adjacent to her chair. Her right leg was placed firmly to the floor, and her left leg bent, placed firmly against the wall. As her arms were interlocked across her chest. She was getting edgy and uncomfortable sitting down for too long.

She grinned at the comments the dove made about not remembering our names. "No offense was taken." Bel grinned.

 

[FabulousTrash]

Yukimori Izumi - The Sparrow
Location: Home Warehouse



Izumi returned from the kitchen with a soda in hand, cracking the tab open and took a sip as she stood in front of everyone who was seated in the living area.

Not everyone was present still, there were still a couple people who havent shown up yet. Hopefully they werent lost or anything , she was sure the directions were very clear. Otherwise how else would the others have made it here so easily. Nevertheless, she couldnt keep those who were here waiting for too long. She could catch up the latecomers another time.

"Right then, shall we begin?"

Izumi gave everyone a moment to re-focus their attention as she reached below her seat, pulling out a roll of paper, spreading it out on the table between the group. Written and drawn on it was the overall plan of the heist, every single task they needed to complete, all the equipment they would need, everything.

"I know I already told you what this job was sorta gonna be like, but these are the small details that we havent discussed yet."

She pointed to one section of the paper, which listed all the prep-work that was necessary.

"There is a lot we need to do beforehand if we're gonna pull this off. We'll need getaway vehicles, security disguises and masks, intel on guard rotations and shifts, pictures of the outside and inside of the bank, fake IDs, unmarked weapons and special drills for the safe vault. We'll start with the weapons."

Izumi reached under the table and pulled out another roll of paper, putting it on top of the first. On it was the detailed instructions and intel that she had regarding where they were gonna get the guns from.

"Obviously, we cant get the weapons through traditional means cause then it can be traced back to us. However, I got word that a local gang in town is getting a shipment of weapons from out of the country. Simply put, we're gonna take their gear off of them. They've already done all the work making sure the guns arent traceable, so we shouldn't need to worry about that. They're collecting the shipment at the city docks in a couple nights, so we'll have some time to prepare. I had a couple handguns stored here in the warehouse so if you didn't come armed, I got some spares for you.

She looked up, her eyes moving from one person to the other in a curious fashion.

"Any questions?"

 

[Jannah]

More and more of the team filed into the warehouse. Ju-Hyun took care to study the features of each of them carefully. These were the people, her comrades, and those she would have to trust with her life. She wanted to know them well and, most of all, recognize them. What particularly stood out to the young woman was each of their code names, unquestionably hand chosen, and each of their specialties that accompanied them. She attempted to decipher some sort of pattern between them but to no avail.

Everything appeared to fall rather neatly into place, but there were still surprises to be had. Almost immediately Ju-Hyun's attention shifted towards the Sparrow as she made her grand entrance. She was supposedly the leader of the entire operation, the one who had so eagerly brought together the rag-tag team now gathered in the warehouse. Yet, there was exactly one detail that stood out about her, one that left Ju-Hyun somewhat taken aback. She was young. She appeared rather collected as well, making the hacker wonder just a bit about her true origins.

Some inquiries could never be made, however. Ju-Hyun remained in silence as the young woman began to speak. She turned all her attention towards the leader and listened carefully as she relayed a list of actions to be taken previously to pulling off the heist.

Intel.

Ju-Hyun's eyes immediately lit up. If there was anything to be done at all then she was prepared. She was yet to fair a task and why start now? It prompted the hacker's arm to immediately shoot up into the air. "These guns, well, are they handing them over voluntarily? You all know what I'm implying here..." She said.