The Toroa Tango

[Deleted]

Honestly though, who can argue with such a pristine view of an opulent city? A tower build from marble shining the beautiful sunrise over the horizon of the city casts a shadow over what is hailed as “The Greatest Opera in the World!” For years the house sat in the shadow, but today Maestro Tipililio unveiled the greatest monument to the greatest opera singer of all time in no subtle way. A semi circular dome flattened around the top with the figure of a man rising from the roof, holding an imaginative tone within his hand held in a clinch above his head. His hand stretched out from the strangling shadow and into the sun. Years of being overlooked would today disappear under the majesty of this performance.

Tipilio paced back and forth in the grand antechamber of his opera house. He assembled what he thought would be the greatest assortments of mercenaries for the ultimate security. A few swordsmen with bad histories from the streets, dressed up in nice clothes, but still harboring the same money first, others second ,well, somewhere on the list. For the festivities of the opening night, Tipililio invited the richest man in the city, and then owner of the tower overshadowing his opera house, to attend the spectacle of lights and sound.

No other than the man, legend, the bank account, Rodrigo Destinario would come out in his greatest attire. The grand opening of the opera house would draw the finest people in all of Toroa—neigh the World, and Rodrigo would show just how much subtlety a man with a marble tower blocking out the sun for half the city lacked in dress and appearance.

Evening would draw in soon. Rodrigo fastened the belt around his trousers and allowed his blouse to hang just over. Even though his days of adventuring lay in the horizon of time some two decades back, Rodrigo still held the appearance of a powerful man. Even without the fortune he garnered from his last voyage, a voyage where he claimed the treasure he used to gain his vast fortune. Most of it passed on in investments for his operations in the city, but he kept one piece for himself. A green talisman encrusted with diamonds and resting in a frame of gold, it was his hear, and he wore it as such.

The speculation and excitement leading up to this event would no doubt draw in people of lackluster character. While any attempts at security the sad mound of a man Tipililio would offer could impress those of lesser station, Rodrigo selected his own personal escort to defend him. Three swordsmen personally hired from former World Government marines and two men from a rather unscrupulous band of pirates made up the guard regiment for Rodrigo and his fire headed daughter.

The hour grew later when his men found the perfect accomplish for his security detail. Working an anvil down by the docks for a few sailors whom needed a quick melding on their swords, Crimson bartered her way from Alabasta to Toroa. Now she found a way to set herself up in possibly a more stable setting. Whoever this guy was, he sounded like he could give her all the coin she needed to live out the rest of her life in stable surroundings and work the silver she loved so much. This mission would not need her blacksmith hammer though.

Crimson entered the estate of Rodrigo with the two rugged looking former pirates. They both decided the comfort of an estate, with warm beds and hot meals, would make a better life for them. They both shaved off the rust of their beards for the night and donned the formal regalia of Rodrigo’s house. Crimson saw the deals they made present in how they smiled when they saw the ornate fixtures of the house and smelled the aroma of a roast permeating the halls. She could live like this she thought, then she saw someone whom looked just like her already did.

“The perfect feint!” With his arms thrown in the air at his amusement, Rodrigo entered the pillar flanked entry room. Upon his hand rested his most prized possession—or so it seemed. “And now to complete the visage.” Two attendants stepped out to take Crimson back a room where she would be made to look more like the daughter of a noble attending an extravagant showing of the finest talents in all of Toroa. “Today, the greatness of Rodrigo will be shown…” As the troupe led Crimson away from the room, Rodrigo continued. “Anyone attempting to steal my heart or take away my Soul…” While his daughter stayed fairly dimmed to the on goings of her father’s speech, she spun her own web of ideas. “They will find themselves duped in a staged play of my own. They will find Rodrigo is truly the greatest man in all of Toroa.” His daughter’s tongue rubbed against the skin of her lip.

The sun began to fade on the sea’s horizon. Lines of finely groomed men and women lined the streets to attend the mysterious play claimed to of been found in the washed up gullet of a Seaking—the last play of a man whom entertained Shanks. All of this attention brought a great satisfaction to Tipilio. At last his wish of acceptance in the culture of Toroa would come true. At last he would cast off the shadows others cast on him. At last he could tower over those who turned him away as the mere plump maestro of a failed establishment. Tonight would change everything.

And everyone.

Stepping out of a carriage with the her guards and wearing a talisman as fraudulent as her, Crimson looked as regal in a flowing dress as any noble could. Forcing the dangling bangs from her forehead with the brushing of an decorated, but still lethal, iron fan, an air of conceit emanated from Crimson, possibly from the clothing, possibly from the fact she still carried her weapons in concealed areas. Regardless of her danger, Bo and Garth, her escorts for the evening hoped to make sure her weapons stayed put away for the remainder of the night.

“Boss definitely smells something fishy…” Garth tugged at a loose string on his overcoat. This thing just made it more difficult to do his job, but the loose string quickly ate away several stitches of his coat.

“You’re just making yourself out to be a fool right now. We got to meet up with the boss at his suite seats...” A look of disgust formed on Bo’s face while Garth kept tugging his outfit apart. “And you ain’t going to have no coat if you keep it up…”

All of this perfection started to grind away at his nerves. Out of everyone they wanted Garth to dress up and guard a fake gem on a woman whom wasn’t the bosses daughter? “I ain’t paid to look nice like the bird here…”

Just as Garth’s hand began to move towards Crimson’s shoulder, the swiftness of her fan knocked him to the floor. [glow=red,2,300]“Go tug on your own string, miscreant.”[/glow] Crimson flipped her fan back to the original position and kept her updo in a perfect state of movement. [glow=red,2,300]“I don’t want to be late for this show.”
[/glow]

[Kurosaki]

There was a difference between a theft of a person's house or person and something as grand scale as taking on an entire Opera house. Now, as a small scale thief working just to keep herself going, Christine had absolutely no intentions of risking herself landing in a jail cell somewhere without the chance of ever seeing light again.

However, an opportunity to get right up close to some people wearing some fancy jewelry worth a lot of beri was a bit too much to pass up. A slip of the hand there and a twist of the arm here and she could easily score a million beri if she wanted to this evening.

A small smirk crossed her features as she mixed herself in the crowd, wearing appropriate attire for the night; a sleek black dress. While she normally would not have gone out wearing high heels, which were not good for escapes or any of her largely acrobatic stunts, she felt that today she would have to make an exception in order to blend in. Pink lipstick, silver earrings, a matching necklace and her long raven black hair dyed up into a bun completed the look.

And no, the jewelry was not something from a previous theft of hers. She knew better than that. Christine had actually bought them at a cheapo place for about 500 beri to pull off the look. The dress had been borrowed from a dress shop and the tag carefully concealed within the fabric to be returned at a later date.

The opera house itself was pretty stunning from the outside but Christine wasn't really much admiring the architecture. Though she had gazed up at it for a while, her sharp eyes eventually gravitated back to the crowd around her, scoping out potential targets. No one said she had to wait until she got inside to make off with something but she held back for now, not wanting someone to see her so easily. In the dim opera house seating, however, she could make out like a bandit.

Security was going to be the number one issue. Though she had heard that there was some sort of ball taking place on Toroa at the same time that could possibly divert some of the bodyguards, there were no guarantees that all escape paths could be blocked by guards or that there might be some guards pretending to be opera goers that were mixed into the crowd.

As the opera viewers filed into the building, Christine kept calm and collected. She had nothing to fear, she knew, for no one had yet begun to connect her to any of her crimes. Sure, there had been a suspicious Marine or two but that had been back in Roguetown. So far, she had no bounty even. The only person that had actually seen her steal something hadn't been able to see her well enough in the dark to recognize her and also had been bit in the hand, which, well, might distract your attention from someone's face.

Her first steps into the opera house were smooth. Things were going as she had planned them to be. Little did she know that her plans would be shattered with the course of events that were to happen. The wheels were already turning even.

(Short post, I know, sorry! I haven't rp'd with her in a LONGGGGGg time.)

[|The SHAKINATOR|]

"KING OF THIEVES"

"Playin' for keeps is still playin', Mon Ami, so take your pick!"

The night was just settling in and the activities that came along with it were just starting. Like every night in Toroa, there were plenty of events taking place. It was just the way Jean making his money; on stylish cuisines, ball-rooms and opera houses. Taking a little every-night was easy enough and discreet enough for the plutocrats to not even notice and even if they did, such things were trivial for them. To Jean, they were prizes of success. Considering marines were not welcome on this island, there was little to worry about in regards to getting into trouble. There were other forces of security such as the local police, personal body guards and security at each building but that was minor in comparison to the navy. Although it was such a perfect resort for a thief, lately things were becoming a little stale. It was time to hit a jackpot and move on.

He had been scouting Toroa for a while now, waiting for the right opportunity as he spent the last few months gambling and stealing. It was a good way to spend an otherwise boring life. He didn’t have any allegiances to the world or any person in particular. Life was more or less meaningless. All he knew was that he was searching for something… a purpose. Until then, he would do what he knew best, steal from the rich and balance out the suffering between the two ends of society. Tonight’s prize was dedicated to the local orphanage and it would be enough to give them all a brighter future. The target was a rich man named Rodrigo Destinario, perhaps one of the richest men in the whole of the West.

The King of Thieves was dressed in a blue tuxedo for the occasion, having ‘borrowed’ it from a dry-cleaning store the night before. His usually messy hair were slicked back handsomely and his ever handy bo-staff had been shortened to the size a walking stick, on top of which he had attached an expensive looking ornament to give the impression of being rich. It didn’t take much work in acquiring the service of some beautiful escorts to top it all off as the fake playboy made his way into the opera-house without gathering an ounce of suspicion from the guards. After all, he had been living under a false pretence on this island for the past two months. He was a little late to arrive but that was just his style.

“Mr Beauregard… nice to have you join us tonight,” came the familiar voice of the man who was putting on the show tonight, Maestro Tipililio. “Tonight’s show is going to be a masterpiece; I can guarantee you that with my life. You will not be disappointed.” The man seemed a little anxious, hoping for the night to carry itself out as he had envisioned.

Jean smiled at his host and nodded, “Mon Ami, I didn’t come out here to be bored so I hope you don’t disappoint me tonight. Besides, I can feel a buzz in the air tonight. Like a quiet before a storm. From the way the atmosphere is speaking to me, it is going to be one hell of a night.” Jean spoke in his casual and charming manner. Whether it be a man or woman, Jean knew well how to use his tongue. “Come on ladies, let’s not lose out on the best seats now. Maestro Tipililio, I should see you around for the after party.” Jean said, tipping his bowl hat before leading his escorts to a suitable seating area.

There was a crafty smile on his face as he scanned his surroundings. He already knew the infrastructure of the opera-house, he just had to familiarise himself with the seating structure. His eyes hunted through the place, darting in and out of men and women until his eyes fell upon the beauty that would be his target for the night, Rodrigo Destinario’s very own daughter.

His plan was quite simple but extremely difficult to pull off. He was planning to charm the young lady into spilling some secrets about her old man and gain access to the most guarded areas. From there, it would be child’s play to get what he wanted; the jewel that rested within the crown on Rodrigo’s head.

[Deleted]

Music cascaded from the pit below the stage to usher in the regal patrons to the lavish auditorium. Bursts of sound echoed through the hand carved etchings in the marble pillars surrounding the auditorium. Each row bent slightly to align every plush, black, velvet seat with a view of the mammoth stage. A deep red curtain hung across the stage, the crest of a man reaching out towards the sky dominating the banner curtains lining the top.

Fixtures of gold and pearl lined the upper level luxury boxes towering over the floor seating. Each box sat atop a pillar positioned with the most extravagantly ornate just to the side of the stage. Sofas lined the interior of the boxes with silk resting pillows and a tub of ice in the middle for chilled chardonnay.

Tipililio spared no expense on this auditorium, and it left with debt to many people within the city. Tonight going perfectly would determine his outcome for whether he could pay back his loans or not, but it didn’t matter to him. He could no longer live in the shadows of others. He would rise on his own, or he would succumb to others.

Carrying her entourage of guards closely in tow, Crimson marched through the throngs of people lucky enough to get a seat for the evening. The halls arched around the auditorium, rising the closer they got to the stage. Dotting the path, Tipililio made sure to include a large quantity of powder rooms to cater to the prissy manner of women within such a bewildering spectacle. So many in fact, they become a distraction to the intricately laid trap set by a masterminding daughter.

Bo moved to open the door for Crimson to take. “You should stop in at the powder room.”

Holding onto the front of her dress to keep her feet free, Crimson decided to forego the offer and continue on. “We need to get to the box before the show starts.”

The former pirate reached deep into his tact to find a subtle way to get Crimson into the powder room. “Your face doesn’t look so good.”

“Excuse me?” Crimson narrowed her eyes and sped up the movement of her fan. Her iron fan.

Bo cringed at the words Garth spat out, but needed to convince Crimson of the option. “What he means is your face needs more make-up to fool anyone trying to talk with you up close.”

Her bangs blew back and forth while Crimson grinded her teeth. “Fine. I’ll powder my nose. But if I miss the opening you two will need to come powder yours.”

Any good opera house holds a basement full of trap doors. It’s a good choice for places wanting to keep a little sleight of hand for the audience, and those places who want to double up on escape routes for famous artists to beat the rush of the crowd. Yolianda Destinario convinced Tipililio to give her a tour of the basement when the house was still in construction. Knowing he would do anything to gain a foot up in the city she offered herself as a patron for his house—and gained access to the back entrances to the opera.

Wearing the same scarlet and black dress Crimson arrived in, Yolianda made her way through a series of back tunnels running through the walls of the building. Behind each mirror laid a tunnel running to a certain place under the house which then connected to another tunnel. Anyone discovering the trick would merely waste their time running through a labyrinth of interconnecting tunnels, but someone with a precise mind would find a perfect way of playing to the intrigue all operas surround themselves with.

Moving past Bo in an expedient fashion, Crimson moved towards the chair situated just before the mirror. Pulling out a small container from the handbag she kept at her side, she began to brush the powder against her nose before applying some blush to her cheeks. The aroma swelled up a little too harshly, Crimson coughed away some of the aroma, but the smell lingered in her nostrils.

Back in the tunnels beneath the playhouse, Yolianda moved closer to the powder rooms. She could feel the moment of her plan coming into play. It would take a little time, but she would soon be underway.

Slowly she felt herself grow woozier from the powder. Sitting down to regain her composure, Crimson placed the powder away. Something didn’t sit right with her about this situation. Her eyes blinked as she let out a sigh. And then a yawn. And then she let her eyes rest for just a second. Then two. Then three. Then she stopped counting.

The mirror moved ever so gently into…the wrong room. Yolianda came out into a room only to be greeted by a blonde haired, teenage girl applying eyeliner in between dangling bangs from her updo. The annoyance Yolianda wore on her face faded as the young girl squealed in excitement over seeing such a wondrous thing as a secret door in an opera. “What else is there about this--”

Yolianda placed her hand over the girl’s mouth and plucked her and her blue gown from the chair. “Official opera business you see.” The young girl’s eyes followed Yolianda’s mouth as she explained her ruse. “We need to use this powder room and lock it off, but for now…” Yolianda opened the door and tossed the girl out. She disappeared into the crowd, but not before Yolianda saw her guards several doors up—with the majority of the crowd in between them. “They went to the wrong room. I clearly said the fourth door on the right. This is my fault.” She placed her fingers against the bridge of her nose. “I gave them directions and numbers, not beer orders and shiny coins.” Getting back in the tunnels and to the room her guards took Crimson too would take her longer, and she could not just walk out through the halls of the auditorium without letting anyone tracking her know a double was in place. “Maybe the powder will knock her out long enough for me to get over there.”

Back in the occupied powder room, Crimson blinked her eyes back to consciousness. Slowly she staggered back to her feet and made her way to the door. The booming music of the orchestra faded. The show must be starting. As Crimson brushed a loose hair from her face she renewed her disdain for Bo and Garth with her fan. “I TOLD YOU WHAT WOULD HAPPEN!” Crimson stood over Bo and Garth as both lay on top of one another outside of the door. “Get up. I need to get to my seat.”

As the door closed behind Crimson, Yolianda just made her way to open the mirror entrance opening into the powder room. She felt some relief in Crimson’s action against the pirates but needed to take back her rightful place. And her rightful gem.

[Kurosaki]

The inside of the theater was absolutely breathtaking. Especially for someone that had basically grown up on the streets. Music was flowing from the music pit in front of the stage already and was also coming from elsewhere in the theater to give it a surround sound effect. Where they using Den Den Mushi's to get that affect?The luxury boxes that were at the highest level of seating had extra ornamentation lined around them of gold and pearl. Christine's eyes were instantly drawn to them because of her interest in such riches. She was sure that those seated there would also be the best targets.

Now that she was officially inside and past the guards, Christine could at least start to plan her next moves. First, would be to locate some of the best and most opportune targets. The ones preferably that didn't have as many people surrounding them. She spotted an elegantly dressed woman in black and red headed toward the powder room but dismissed her as a target almost right away. Sure, that woman's gems would have the best reward to the theft, but she was being guarded by two tough looking thugs.

She must be someone special and this thief wasn't about to risk getting caught in front of all these witnesses.

As she sat down in one of the seats, she seemed to be reserved and waiting for the performance to begin. Of course, what she was really waiting for was what came with the beginning's of the performance; the dimming of the lights.

A smirk formed on her lips just as the opening came. Once it was thoroughly dark enough, she waited a little while longer and then slipped out of her seat, headed toward the powder room, giving quiet apologies as she slipped past the two people between her and the aisle and passing up the opportunity to undo any jewelry from their wrists even though it would have been a good time. What no one noticed was the row in front of where she had been sitting had been her real target. Within the confines of her small clutch purse she now had several necklaces that she had successfully pilfered.

At this point, it was like taking candy from a baby. She headed toward the powder room though, knowing that guards would possibly be watching those that moved around and be putting them under suspicion.

Her plan having worked out brilliantly so far, she took a moment to fix her hair in the mirror and plan her next moves. It would be foolish to think that those in the nearby rows wouldn't come under suspicion once the thefts were discovered. She already had a plan to deal with that though. But as far as how to make her ill gotten gains greater... Now, that was the real trick. The necklaces she had made off with weren't worth more than a couple of million.

When she had bought her tickets, she had made sure to purchase two. One in the row she had just been sitting in and one in the row she had just robbed from. When she returned to her sitting position, she made sure to sit in the row she had just stolen from, making it appear that she had been mistaken before by holding her ticket close to her face to read the numbers in the darkness.

Once seated, she slyly took off her own necklace and proceeded to bend down and tape it to the underside of the seat. The rest were well hidden in the powder room where she could easily retrieve them from later. Now, if she was called into question, she could claim herself as one of the victims and also tell them exactly when she had been "robbed" which would have been after she had returned from the powder room because she had not been missing her jewels beforehand.

[Deleted]

Shimmering, glittering, lovely jewelry. It seem serendipitous to come across such a cache hidden within a purse in a powder room, but while unraveling her grand scheme Yolianda gazed down into the toilet bowl. The clanking of the metals against the porcelain bank as water reverberated through the pipes echoed through the powder room. Years of taking off expensive pieces of lavish jewelry and placing it against a porcelain basin fine tuned Yolianda's ears to detect just the sound beckoning through the adjacent restroom.

While they looked expensive, none of them could rival the grand gem she desired. Whoever stole these jewels must be a capable individual, Yolianda pondered to herself. The jewels were taped to the side of the bowl, hidden under an ornate lid, so the thief must hold some intentions of returning—if only Yolianda could discern a way to know the thief from the regular theater going noble. She emptied the purse and smiled a sinister smile.

Booming music blared through the echoing auditorium. The maestro commanded the ranks of musicians with such speed his arms looked to fly off at any moment. While he failed to account for just how tiring the musical scores could be, the look of the audience dazzled by his movements gave him just what he needed to continue. Amazement. They all sat in amazement of him. While flailing his arms in control of the music he could barely contain his joy.

“You are late.” Rodrigo scolded as Crimson and her guard entered. “I’ll take that from your pay.”

Always eager with an excuse, Garth took his seat without waiting for the lady of the ball to take hers. “It’s not our fault the princess here took a nap in the powder room.”

“You were the ones pushing me into the powder room in the first place!” Growing angry enough to distract the people in the next booth, Crimson began to wonder how the men whom stayed outside knew she dozed off in the powder room.

“Quiet.” Rodrigo drew the three to silence with his harsh snap. “I’ll deal with this later.” For now he wanted to watch the show. “The little fat twerp actually put on a good show. Why have I never heard of him before?”

One of the former marines guarding Rodrigo pitched a reason to take the boss’s mind off of the oversight. “He must be new.” In actuality, Rodrigo came to this very opera house a year ago for a charity fund raiser and shook hands with the maestro. He also visited the year before that, and so one every year for the charity event that had happened for fifteen years.

The plan went off with several hitches, all from the two former pirates. Garth and “Hey boss…”

Rodrigo met the request with an open hand gesture. “I’m watching this.”

“Don’t you think the girl’s face don’t look so good?” Garth motioned to Crimson, whose face almost matched her hair in color.

Bo stepped in to keep some order and peace between the two. “What he means is…” Rodrigo and Crimson both shared a common annoyance, but only one’s opinion mattered. “The light ain’t making her look like no royal. Her makeup is splotchy, ya know…”

“Fine.” Rodrigo barely contained his composure. “Take her to the powder room and you can all readjust each other’s makeup before I get angry and readjust your anatomical makeup.”

Moving as quietly and quickly as they could, the trio exited the luxury box and moved quickly to the corridor wrapping around the playhouse.

“Boss is mad.” Bo never liked confrontation he couldn’t deal with physically. For all his years on the sea, he always made a habit of bending to the desires of powerful men.

“Don’t matter…” Garth worked differently. “After this, we’ll be on our own and set for life with the new boss.”

Sensing something amiss, Crimson chimed in. “What?”

“What?” Bo followed in surprise his partner would let slip something so important to someone they were supposed to be getting out of the picture.

“You know…” Before Garth could finish, Bo smashed his foot with the heel of his own. Garth hobbled in pain while Crimson began to lift her dress to reach for her sword.

“Not so quick princess.” Bo finally got to the physical bit he wanted before Crimson could arm herself. His spring loaded knife sat precariously close to Crimson’s neck, assuring her no amount of reflexes could get under the thick dress to retrieve her blade. “Let’s just take this slow and no one gets hurt.”

“What about me!” Garth yelled in protest to the ‘none gets hurt’ clause.

“I told you being stupid was going to start hurting, didn’t I.” Bo motioned for Crimson to move towards the powder room with Garth moving behind them.

Yolianda finished the sign. Closed. Maintenance. With the sign on the door everyone would avoid this room—unless they knew they needed to get a purse from it. Each one of those jewels would make for a good price; Hell, she could probably pay the pirates with them once a month, so she took the jewels and hid them in the opening mirror. Prior to coming, Yolianda hitched together a small box she planned on tricking Crimson with. Within the box she placed seven bola chords with ball weighted ends under high pressure, once the box opened they would spring out and wrap up whomever Yolianda tricked into opening it.

Now, for the sake of cutting herself out from tricking Christine, Yolianda began to rig up the same trap component by attaching the top of the box to the lid of the toilet bowl. Removing the lid would take the top of the box with it, and the seven bolas would shoot right up to snare Christine.

Once everything looked right, she closed the lid and made her way back to the mirror. Down the corridor she could here raised voices from the another powder room. Hopefully the team she begrudgingly assembled from the best of terrible choices could handle one girl. For now, she just needed to sit and wait.

[Kurosaki]

(No matter how huge of a noise she made with a toilet tank lid... That's no reason to immediately jump to inspecting it. I could see if she was watching Christine out in the theater and felt she was being suspicious. Also, Christine wouldn't have made any loud noises because she is working to hide something secretly. But, if you insist on making off with her jewels, just remember that if you can give explanations that make little sense, so can I for stealing them back later. )

Being a thief wasn't easy. Mainly, you had to contend with being constantly on edge even though visually you were fine. Christine still knew that suspicion could always end up directed her way, no matter how confident she was in her skills to make off with jewels worth so much.

For now, Christine acted calmly and was relaxed as she began to watch the performance playing out in front of her. An usher walked past but she didn't even turn her head.

That was when it started. The first person realized that they were missing their cuff links. The quick, rapid whispers of the man and the woman that were together began to rise to a level that caused some of the other guests to turn around and making 'shh-ing' noises at them. The usher turned and came back to the row that had been stolen from and, under his breath, asked what the problem was.

"My cuff links! They are missing!" explained the man as he brandished his arms in front of the usher to show him while his wife let out a small shrill scream suddenly.

"My pearl necklace! It's gone!" she explained before jumping up and then swaying, as though she were close to fainting. The usher ended up catching her before she fell onto the other guests in the row. Whispers floated down the aisles and several people whispered from them to keep quiet before they discovered their own missing precious items.

"Quiet, quiet ladies and gentleman! I understand your outrage but there is a performance taking place. Anyone here that is missing jewelry or other valuables, please come with me and we'll make a list of what is missing and work to catch who is responsible." quickly said the usher before gesturing them back up the steps. A lot of people, practically the entire row, stood up including Christine since she was in their row, having realized with "a start" that the necklace she wore was missing.

"Wait! That woman sitting there. Wasn't she in our row earlier?" she heard a man whisper from the row in back of her current one.

"Is that true, 'mam?" questioned the usher in a whisper since he had heard the conversation. "If you don't mind showing me your ticket, please?"

"Ah, yes, earlier, I sat down in the wrong seat by mistake," she quickly whispered back before digging through her clutch purse and handing him the small ticket for her current seat. The other one she had flushed down the toilet earlier. The usher nodded and then "ushered" her and the other victims up the steps and into the hallway near a powder room to discuss the thefts.

[Deleted]

“This went as easy as I thought it would.” Bo held a knife to Crimson’s back as he pushed her into the powder room.

Immediately Garth felt neglected from the assessment of the situation. “Tell that to my head!” He barked as he closed the door swiftly. “I got just the way to keep her quiet…” Garth pulled his sword from the scabbard and pointed it menacingly in the direction of Crimson. “First I’ll cut out her throat. Then, I’ll take her arms off one by one…” He pushed forward with his sword pointed with a purpose. “Then I take off her legs. And, finally…” He moved to place his blade a few feet from Crimson’s neck. “I’ll toss her into the ocean and let what may come.”

Crimson kept her hands held in the air over her head. “Is that it?”

“What?!” The two men yelled in shocked sentiment.

“I doubt your blade would even cut through anything…” She kept her eyes affixed past the blade and on the man holding the sword. “I figured it was merely for show and nothing else.”

Garth drew his arm back in anger to swing towards Crimson with an amazing hatred. “Why you over pompous stand in, I’ll smash you head to give you a bruise to make it as big as you think!”

Knowing his companion would soon strike, Bo pushed back on Garth’s arm to spin him around. “She’s right you know…” He looked back to Crimson, still with her hands held in the motion of surrender. “I know just who has a good looking sword to do all that.”

Crimson darted her eyebrows and extended the curve of her lip to push her words out of one side of her mouth. “Good to see someone has a little taste.”

“Lift up your dress so I can grab that blade of yours.” Bo moved forward as Crimson obliged and lifted the edge of her dress up to her mid thigh, revealing where she kept her blade hidden by the strap. “Do anything funny and it will be the last of…”

Before he could conclude his threat, Crimson shot her leg straight up and locked her knee into a straight shot. The impact of her heels shattered Bo’s lower jaw. The ground greeted his head harshly but welcomed the teeth from his head. The brownish tint complemented the wooden floor very nicely.

“He said don’t do anything funny!” Garth lunged to swing for Crimson with a furious charge. Spinning on her heel, Crimson evaded and relocated just to his side—with her drawn sword her right hand and the end of her chain in the left. Garth pulled on the hand guard of his sword to try and pry it from the pillar in the back of the room he hit.

“I can see why you would mistake such a lovely pillar for me, but at least we now know your sword is slightly sharp.” Steel faced down Garth reflecting Crimson’s visage in the light glowing against her polished blade.

“Slightly sharp!” A snarling response accompanied a savage kick to dislodge the blade. “I’ll show you what’s slightly sharp.”

Lowly growling from the floor, a response came from Bo. “Buddy, this might not be the best…”

“I’ve got this.” Staring down the luminous light from the blade resting at the ready, Garth charged towards Crimson with enough force make a rather uncomfortable gust blow past her neatly done hair as she pivoted on her heel. Like a drunk after the cut off, Garth stumbled forward towards the powder room door. The commotion arising from the incident would surely catch attention if he burst through the door wielding a sword.

Even bursting through the door like an ogre would raise the suspicions of anyone who saw. So, Crimson stopped him.

Throwing her chain over her head to catch momentum, Crimson threw her chain to grab Garth’s leg. Wrapped up with no place to go other than down, Garth plummeted to the ground sword in hand. Knowing she could probably only fail to drag the man over with her own strength, Crimson turned her back and assumed the position of using her shoulder as a pulley.

“Bad idea, princess.” Moving closer only acted to Garth’s advantage to get to Crimson. Or, he assumed. Pushing off from the ground with both hands, Garth sprung into the air. With both feet planted firmly on the ground, and the glare of a determined pirate in his eye, Crimson gave the chain another swift pull to take his leg out from underneath him.

“Gotta think a little ahead of schedule.” Launching her condescending tone to the downed man, Crimson pressed her heel against the chain on his leg to loosen the links of the chain. She began wrapping the chain around her left hand when she felt the accosting grab of a man from behind her. Bo came back to life only to become a thorn in Crimson’s side.

“Knock her out. She’ll be easier that way.” With a broken speech pattern from a barely functioning jaw, Bo signaled for Garth to assist in the assault. Pressing her hands against his forearm, Crimson tried to maneuver to get her teeth towards the bare skin of his forearm.

Garth picked himself up with less vigor this time but held the same crazed look. “Don’t gotta tell me twice.” Dull steel barely managed to even bare a reflection as it flipped through the air and into Garth’s hand, handle first to allow him a blunt force hit. Growing closer to getting her perfect mark, Crimson kept driving her nails into the battered man’s arm. “Hold er’ still, less I be hittin’ you.”

As he drove forward for his attack, Crimson dug her teeth deep into Bo’s arm. He let out a yell as she slid under his grasp. With no time to give up on the drive, Garth landed a blunt hit into Bo’s chest. Under normal circumstances the force would have sent Bo hard to the ground, but the two found themselves wrapped in Crimson’s chain. “Split this reward!” Crimson wound up on her pivot heel and threw her leg against the back of Garth’s head. All her force traveled through his head and pulled him hard into Bo’s already damaged face. Unconscious, the two men slowly slid down face to face.

Taking a few moments to readjust her make-up, Crimson walked past the two men she tied up with their own belts and concealed her sword under her dress. “I’ll just tell the boss you couldn’t handle the job.” Turning back to slide with the motion of the door out the room, Crimson came out into the corridor of the main rotunda. A lively meeting of suspects looked to have gathered and none of it looked friendly to Crimson. If only she could pass by unnoticed.