Crowning Achievements

[subconmodo]

WHO: Avery Atchison, Jailbreak, Goro Akechi, Bendy, Maya Matlin, Puella Tempus, Ekkehardt Gehring, Héctor, Gunvolt
WHAT:WHEN: May 21
WHERE: A museum in Germany
WARNINGS: Will update as needed.


For all the high tech security the museum is said to house, the building itself is very old--the sort of outside and inside one would come to expect from a museum, really: tall columns, marble floors, high ceilings, even a few dinosaur exhibits here and there.

This late at night one might expect the guards to be a half step away from sleep, but they're wide awake and professional, if currently a little bored.

The mission is simple in theory: grab the crown and shackles, replace them with fakes, and get out. But between all the shiny, magical distractions to be found and a rival group of professional thief mages, things might get tricky.

Comments

Pre-Mission

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[Pre-mission planning and prep goes here!]

Night at the Museum

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[Catch-all category for sneaking in and finding other goodies for characters to see and/or appropriate. Feel free to have characters react to the crown and shackles here if they would have a reaction at all, but the theft itself should go to the appropriate section.

Feel free to have it out with one or two of the mages here too, but the majority of the battle with them should be kept to the theft.

A list of non-target displays can be found here. Please feel free to add to it, even if you aren't participating in the mission directly.]

Mission: Complicated

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[Actual theft of target here. The rival thieves will be showing up in force here.

Please see this comment in the planning thread for more info.]

The Rebound

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[Post-mission decompression here.

Wanting to try out your new toy? Trying to stop one of your teachers from burning down a museum? Dealing with a few injuries? Got juicy gossip?

Bring it in here!]

Will match format

[subconmodo]

He's been in a sour mood the whole mission. Eerily quiet. Murderous. And though it might seem strange at first (this is, after all, the perfect time to sow a little confusion and chaos in between breaking a few laws), the reason becomes clear once they come into view of the target display.

Or, rather, in view of the portrait displayed proudly within it.

Avery's face is blank, cold, as he stares down the happy couple, one hand squeezed tight around the hilt of a knife he isn't holding.

It's like someone's skinned him alive and left the meat on display.

Sickening.

i'll match you!

[spelleton]

A.

Ekkehardt is cat-quiet (quieter, since cats can sometimes knock things over and he makes sure to plan his paths so it doesn't happen) as he makes his way through the museum. He navigates through guard patrols and past various obstacles like a shadow, leaving no traces of his presence and hardly any noise. He's silent as the grave, and clearly in his element (questionable in itself).

If he catches people eyeing something they shouldn't, though, he'll speak.

"Stay on task," he says, briskly. "We're not here to sightsee. Save that for daylight hours."

B.

[ Out of all the exhibits displayed in the museum, there's one room he thoroughly avoids. Even if it means his route becomes longer and thus more inefficient, he gives it a wide and noticeable berth.

Checking the room will reveal a display of various historic torture devices, tools behind glass and larger implements behind barriers, laid out with neat explanations as to what they were used for. ]

[unpocoloco]

He understands on a simply human level, the people who set this up, who run this museum, they're not thinking about it beyond the historical. They're thinking people long dead, stories lost to be revived, showing the mistakes of the past to help the future.

But Avery isn't dead. No matter how long passed, it's not long enough. At the sight of the painting, his stomach flips. He would've put two and two together if he hadn't seen Avery young. He might have put it together just from the tales he's been told or even the way Avery is now. Altogether it takes nothing at all.

He reaches for Avery's wrist at first, an instinct to stop him and not to cross a line with the man in the very same instance. But he stops himself. He remembers the scars. As for himself, he'll just take the risk. The worst thing that happens is a little pain.

He puts his hand carefully over Avery's tightly held fist. He doesn't say anything. Whether Avery meets his eyes or not he nods. He knows what he's going to do.

Stepping forward, he yanks the portrait off the wall.

[subconmodo]

He doesn't look at Héctor when he approaches, but neither does he pull away. The only acknowledgement that the other man is even there is Avery's briefly stiffening body, the brief narrowing of his eyes.

And then Héctor steps in front of him and goes for the painting.

"What are you doing?" Avery hisses with a start.

[unpocoloco]

He glances back, blinking. "...Is it not obvious?"

He sets the portrait down, standing it that way with one hand to hold it up. He eyes it. Then reaches out again to turn it around and peer at the backing. There's got to be some kind of clasp or a slip...

"I don't know what would be the best thing to do with it. Rip it in half? Bonfire could be cathartic but I don't know if burning the whole thing would be weird. Could throw it in a river. Or the outlands. Or maybe hide it someplace else if you want. Really anything that doesn't keep it on display. What do you say? Want to help me get this thing out of the frame? If it doesn't come out the easy way I'll let you smash it." He holds it up, the back faced to avery as he tilts it left and right, all but sing-songing that offer.

[subconmodo]

He tries to reply, but his throat doesn't allow it, tries to think, but his mind is an empty wheel spinning in circles.

He didn't expect this.

Most people yammer on and on about historical and cultural significance, about how he shouldn't be destroying these things, no matter who they belonged to. And yet here Te--Héctor is, ready to throw the damn thing into the flames all on his own.

"It could use a few... renovations." It's a joke, meant as a joke, even if he's still not smiling. "And I suppose it's not really stealing when the object in question belongs to you."

A pause.

"Think Gehring will let me borrow a knife?"

[unpocoloco]

Avery might not laugh at his own joke, but Héctor smiles. It's a crooked thing, very reminiscent of the boy Avery almost thought of.

"Exactly. It's your property and they neglected to ask you, its rightful owner, whether they could be allowed to keep it. Also, it's terrible. We're basically doing them a favor."

He grins even wider then.

"If you tell Ekkehardt what it's for I'm pretty sure he'll walk on over here and do it himself. But if you don't want that, one of my ribs could probably pry it out. You know, as long as you don't break it."

[spelleton]

It's impossible not to notice the look on Avery's face or whatever Héctor is doing with that painting over there, so he decides to go and investigate, because he feels like leaving both of them alone to do something in a place full of easily breakable objects is just asking for trouble.

"What are you up to?" His voice is more brisk and clipped than usual. Apparently he can get even stiffer than normal, and that's if there's a mission involved.

[subconmodo]

"I was thinking of skipping the removal and getting straight to the point, to be honest."

And then, as if summoned by name, Gehring shows up.

"Defacing my own property," Avery replies sourly. "Technically nothing illegal."

[unpocoloco]

Usually, when Ekkehardt gets that look like a disapproving teacher slash cop, Héctor's the first to turn sheepish and bow his head. In this case, however, his smile doesn't waver for a moment.

"Oh, you know. Righting a wrong. Want to help?" He asks like it's already decided. "Avery just needs a knife. I guess we're slashing the picture? I still think we should cut the whole thing out, just to make sure there's nothing left, but whatever suits the professor."

He turns the frame around a little, slowly toward Ekkehardt, watching Avery for any sign of protest.

B

[unpocoloco]

[He's no knowledgeable historian. He doesn't have any fancy schooling or even any particular wealth of knowledge besides the musical. He's just a man who likes history, who finds home with the old and a sense of connection he's always lacked except with things and stories even older. This place draws him in, even with the security guards he's got to dodge by every ten or so minutes. The security in this place is crazy. Though he guesses they are, probably, the reason why that is.

He's making his way okay but he's definitely not one of the more... professional individuals here. Like Ekkehardt! He feels a little bad ruining the man's stealth somewhat but following after someone who knows what they're doing seems the better option than getting caught and ruining it for all of them. He trails behind, not expecting Ekkehardt to be interested in conversation right now and not trying to engage in it.

At least until they skip a shortcut to take the long route. Not just that, but he swerves wide. Héctor blinks and follows without a glance at that room.]

Uh... Ekkehardt? Is everything okay? There some kind of camera back there or something? What just...

[spelleton]

He glances at Avery, then at Héctor, and then at the painting. There's a moment where you can almost see the conclusions he's drawing, rapidly, in his head.

The long knife is drawn and in his hand in one hard-to-follow motion, and then he tosses it to Avery hilt first without another word.

"Don't take too long," he says, voice impassive as ever. "And I want that knife back when you're done."

[spelleton]

[ He pauses. If it was anyone but Héctor asking (if it was Atchison, maybe, but even that was a large maybe), he'd just shrug it off. Be vague. Lie and give another reason entirely.

There's a large enough period of silence (still moving along at a brisk pace) that Héctor would be entirely forgiven for thinking Ekkehardt wasn't going to answer at all. But the answer comes, in time; he stops, to wait for a guard to pass.

The words are at the edge of hearing, as much to avoid being overheard as anything else. ]

I don't enjoy seeing torture devices. [ His voice is quiet, stiff. A stark contrast from Ekkehardt's usual smooth, professional tone. ] Nor anything else that serves as a reminder of the circumstances surrounding my death.

Will Match Format

[lastexit]

Maya's somewhere between 'too professional' in her attire or 'silly superhero.' Depending on how you view the dark gray catsuit with the owl-featured mask. But when someone makes you a stealth suit, complete with all the toys and tools one might need for spying and stealing... you use it.

It would be rude not to. Plus covering your face while you crime is perfectly reasonable!

She isn't invisible as she moves around the museum for the moment. Only activating that trait of her attire when she senses a guard coming near. Listening to the sounds of several more items declaring their power in the air than just the two items they're after. Trying to place names and identities to what is drawing her attention, in case maybe they need to take a few other items from the museum.

If anything sounds dangerous, that is. Right now she's drifting toward the storage rooms, a space to research the artifacts outside of the prying eyes of museum patrons.

[subconmodo]

Avery catches it, tosses it up in the air, and catches it once again, motions neither as fluid nor efficient as Ekkehardt's, but speaking to familiarity all the same.

"There's no fun in toying with a painting," he assures Ekkehardt. "It doesn't even bleed."

He looks to Héctor and holds his hand out, motioning for him to hand it over. "You might not want to stand near that."

[unpocoloco]

Knives. Yet another thing to never ask about ever. And with that, he hands over the painting and steps right back. It might not kill him but stabbing still hurts.

He'll just stand back, behind Avery and watching, just to see what might possibly be needed when this is done.

And maybe to get one last look at the Avery in the painting.

Will Match Format

[lastexit]

Maya wasn't much for art, history she was good with. She liked knowing the everything was as dour and hopeless in the past as it was in the present. An oddly comforting idea that everyone has that suffering in their life. So as much as it wasn't why she was here, she did look at displays and little cards explaining ancient art and old items of people long dead.

Or potentially not given how many people at the school were older than time and that's weird to get used to.

But it wasn't why she was here. She looked like a normal person, and she could figure out where 'interesting' items were by simply hearing them through the museum. She was the most obvious choice to case the museum before they came back later.

People milling about filled the space with noise, but magic was always a little louder than life. She had to stop and refocus her mind, the constant noise of people, new people she was unused to, did take a toll on her, but she took it in stride, enjoy a trip to the museum. Staring at a painting of a woman who looked so sad, and was either a faerie or dead for a century. Either way- the painter captured a hint of sadness to her that Maya just-

She just understood.

[unpocoloco]

[Ekkehardt is so quiet. He can understand. They're on a mission, these things are important, and the man is dedicated.

He also understands himself to be a hassle sometimes. A lot of times. He knows he's anywhere in the range of annoying to burdensome and if people need to ignore him sometimes, you know, he gets it. He's not about to hold it against them.

So for either that, the mission, or some other third reason, he does eventually assume he's not going to get an answer. He hides with Ekkehardt and waits as well, eyes fixed on the guard.

Then the world seems to lurch off its axis.]

...What?

[His voice is quiet. Choked, even, like someone knocked the air from his lungs. Like he needs it.

The guard leaves but he's still frozen in place. At some point in his staring, he's less doing it at Ekkehardt than he is staring through him.]

That's how you... that's how... you died?

[He, at last, manages to look away, gaze turning back to that shortcut. The morbid curiosity lasts only a moment before the memories take their place. He gasps a little as his body flickers. His arms hug to his chest, trying to control that sporadic shimmer of light. His eyes squeeze shut, his head shakes, and then he's forcing himself to move again. Thankfully, by now, the guard has passed them by.]

I'm sorry. I should have-- Do you know if there are any more displays like that? So we can avoid them.

[subconmodo]

There's a moment of silence as Avery stares down at the innocent young man in the painting. Someone fill of hopes and dreams, who didn't believe kindness came with a price, didn't know that there wee always strings attached, couldn't fathom that his loving, dearest wife saw him as an accessory for the fairytale she had always dreamed of living.

He raises the knife and brings out down. Again. And again. His fist nearly punches through the canvas, long tears growing to become one giant hole. And though his expression is impassive, almost detached, his eyes are stormy and dark, lips twitching downward without joy, as if he's experiencing the echo of a flinch from every blow.

There's no joy in it, no relief, and by the end he just seems tired, staring down at the hole in the painting and holding the knife out, handle first, to Ekkehardt.

Vanessa is untouched.

[spelleton]

[ He watches that reaction with something like pity, an odd, detached sense of sympathy. At first, it seems like a visceral reaction to the idea of him being tortured, which isn't something he's unfamiliar with.

His mouth sets in a thin line as the nature of those reactions change, however. They remind him too much of his own, so there must be something there. Something personal. ]

It lasted about a month. It seemed longer than that.

[ He doesn't speak again, nor address Héctor's questions, until they reach a safe spot. They can stand here without worrying about cameras or guards; it's why he'd picked it in the first place. ]

Did something happen?

[spelleton]

Ekkehardt is supervising, but generally letting Maya take the lead on this one. It's important for her to have some sense of responsibility, especially since this mission is a rare opportunity for her to use what she's best at, rather than uncomfortably branching out into things she has little experience with.

He gives the painting a brief glance, not much more than that. By the look on Maya's face, she's found something to relate to in it - not a bad thing.

"Are you just appreciating fine art, or have you found something interesting?" It's a question with a slight hook to it, but only a little. If she prefers not to answer, it's all the same to him.