THE RIMBORIAN JOB [modplot]

[letsgolegion]

Who| Open to everyone in the plot (players can have 1 character participate)
What| A very snazzy heist
Where| The New Jersey Casino, on the crime planet Rimbor
When| After all the media shenanigans, before "Valor's Day."
Warnings/Notes| None! Just some good clean larcenous fun!


The theft of the artifact has been explained, the mission objectives have been given to all participants, the useful tech has been handed out, the facial holograms are on to obscure everyone's identities as Legionnaires, and everyone has been provided wardrobes by the Athramites to allow them all to dress to the nines. All participants are also linked together with Brainiac 5 and Kid Q, and with each other, via their telepathic earplugs, allowing them to synchronize their respective tasks.

Amidst the backdrop of flashing lights and holograms, the teams have a soundtrack of the casino's beeps, boops, holo-displays, and ringing noises, but if there was an actual soundtrack, for real, it probably would sound a little like...this.

Sometimes justice can't be bought or sold, but in this case, there's nothing stopping them from stealing it.

[ooc: Plot infopost/signups here.]

Comments

Team YoLo (York & Locus)

[goddamngrenades]

The most important part of any plan is extraction. If you don't have a way out? You're screwed six ways to Sunday. Casinos are, as a rule, mazes of gambling tables and service corridors, marking appropriate routes is something Delta crunches in the back of York's mind as he finally finds his way to the parking garage, feeling more than a little underdressed compared to his well armored partner for the moment.

"Clear." his head swings around to peer down the length of the corridor from whence they've come. "I figure one good sweep before we mark vehicles for everyone else oughta do. Doesn't seem to be much security down here."

Yet.

[agnominal]

"That won't remain the case for long, once they realize what's happened."

At that point, it will be all they can do to pull out without risking further damage or casualty. Luckily, his focus has been on the security force for most of the evening. He knows what to expect.

He keeps his weapon -- non-lethal, as they'd required -- at the ready as they make their way through the garage.

"Exit points?"

[goddamngrenades]

"Point." D flickers through feeds and data captured earlier in the op, picking through till they found a solid blueprint of the garage. Massive, full of cars more expensive than anything he's ever seen-

And with gated exit points at the southwest corner. Fantastic. "One on the southern wall, two on the southwest, both manned. We're gonna have to take them out."

Knock them out. Not, well. Kill. Nonlethal means here.

[agnominal]

"I'll take the southwest exit." He can tranq them and call it, at least for a few hours. It won't even require getting up close, just getting a decent shot. Of course, that's assuming no curve balls get thrown their way in the meanwhile.

He's not keen on being surprised, at this point.

[goddamngrenades]

"I'll get South." Wow that feels familiar in a way he's not looking at too closely. Nope. He just shuts off the lights on his tux and palms his stun gun from the small of his back before offering Locus a quick nod. "Meet back here to regroup?"

Quick, clean, no reason it should go sideways.

Which is why it probably will but he's trying very hard to keep luck on their side right now.

[agnominal]

"Agreed. Advancing."

All business, especially out in the field. Communication was the key to these things going any kind of smooth, and he'd taken the target likely to be the most heavily guarded for a reason. All that armor was pretty conspicuous, but a second later? There was nothing to see. Just a shimmer of movement as he passed, making his way towards the exit.

Clear the point, return. Simple enough.

[goddamngrenades]

Without any camo it's a bit more tense for York sidling along the wall to squint at the unmanned 'hopefully' exit and so far? No one in there. Cameras that had been cut off for the moment and nothing he can't erase later. A quiet alert from Delta has him ducking into the booth because- well.

Shit.

Shift change. "Two more coming your way."

[agnominal]

That complicates matters. It'd be difficult enough to tranq each of the guards without setting off the others. Now he's got two extra sets of eyes heading his way.

"Copy."

Better to let them pass and deal with the new rotation first. Follow up on the previous guards with their back's turned. He maneuvers himself into a corner, waiting. Watching to see how this plays out.

"Two guards rotating out, heading towards entryway."

So that's still four for him to take out. Just a little more waiting than he was expecting.

[goddamngrenades]

"I've secured the southern Exit." Easy enough- put a bug on the system so D can tap in and override shit while he's peering out the window, watching the security feeds for the paths of the guards. When one peels off to come to his booth, though?

"One's headed for me, might get noisy."

Since he can't turn invisible or otherwise hide other than shoving himself deeper under the desk.

[agnominal]

"Do you need backup?"

He can break away if need be, but if it's one guard? Locksmith ought to be able to handle him on his own. Unless there are factors he's not aware of, at the moment.

Either way, he's lining up his first shot. Have to make this quick. As soon as one drops, the others will be alerted, will trip the alarm if they can.

[goddamngrenades]

"Nah, I got it, but it's not gonna be quiet." He grabs something off the desk he's hiding under- a paperweight or, whatever, doesn't matter. It's not important and it's large and something he can throw well. A bit of focus, a twist on the internal structure that he's still not all that sure how it works-

And it starts to pulse in his hand. Four count for a flashbang, charging the item with energy and counting off over the comm for Locus. "Engaging in three, two, one-"

Flashbang out- the paperweight whatever hits the ground by the guard's feet and goes off with a muffled bang, stunning him while York vaults out to finish the job with a quick shot.

[agnominal]

The noise echoes in the garage, and the guards turn. The one who looks closest to the alarm goes down first, with a soft 'pop' as the rifle fires off.

Now they're on high-alert, searching for a sign of their intruder, shouting briefly to one another. Breathe. Reload.

The second shot catches one guard in the thigh and sends him sprawling, and any effort by his companion behind him to bolt ahead is hindered by the sudden and urgent need to not go flying over his collapsed form and face-first into the concrete. One more, sparing the flailing man but catching the third before he can enter the booth to hit the alarm.

Then Locus is on the move to take out the last, who'd just turned to see his last fellow fall...and was presenting his back. Foolish. He deserved what was coming to him.

[goddamngrenades]

"Southern Sector, clear." York paints himself against the wall and listens. Running, chatter, no ear into their coms- D, get on that-

Affirmative-

He can see some of the skirmish through the cars, or rather see the aftermath of an invisible Locus's effective takedowns. Five guards now stunned and the garage is secure. Right? Right.

Wrong, D pings him frantically leaving York to grumble under his breath as he adjusts positions. "We got more company coming in from the eastern elevators."

[agnominal]

"How many?"

Said while the last guard is twitching in his arms, being sleeper-held into submission before dropping limply to the ground. He'll need to ration his bullets, make each one count. It sounds as if they'll need them.

Eastern elevators. Locus shifts into a position to lean the rifle against the top of the car hood in front of him, aiming at the doors. Rate of fire would be slower than he'd like, but depending on the number...

"Locksmith."

[goddamngrenades]

"Five." Low over the comms as he peers down the row of cars. "You're a good enough shot to not hit me, right?"

Right. Just gonna trust a sniper type this much makes his shoulder twinge and his chest ache for opposing and equally visceral sentiments. But. Locus has his back, he's pretty sure, and he's feeling lucky enough not to worry as he...

Saunters out, gun tucked into the small of his back, doing his best to look confused and lost. Just long enough for Locus to crack off his shots. A little smirk and his eye simmers a bit and, hey, isn't he believable? Isn't he just so damn congenial? "I think I might've forgotten my keys with the Valet or something-"

[agnominal]

"Not on accidnet," he deadpans in return, eyes narrowing as the door pulls open. He knows better, knows he'll make the shots when needed.

And it appears York opted for misdirection, pulling the attention of the guards who should know better. And, for some reason, still aren't shooting him on sight. Let him charm them, then.

While he moves into their midst? Locus is lining up the shoot. Breathe. Focus.

Fire.

One guard buckles, clutching his knee. Aim. Breathe.

Fire.

[goddamngrenades]

Two down and no amount of charm power is gonna keep the other three from bringing their weapons up- York flicks what looks like a marble into his hand, dives out of the way of Locus' line of fire as he charges it, and throws. The crackling of energy goes off like a flashbang, stunning one and staggering the others long enough for him to roll and bring his pistol up to bear.

Stun pistols. Nonlethal means.

Doesn't stop him from going for a headshot on the stunned guard.

Three down.

[agnominal]

Staggering makes them move, makes movement harder to predict, but he's got this. He clips one in the shoulder with his next shot before--

"Advancing."

York has one more to deal with himself, then they need to see about securing the route back. In case someone has managed to find what they're after. He might go take a look again himself, just to be sure.

[goddamngrenades]

Four down and York rolls back up to his feet, bypassing the stun gun entirely to lunge at the last guard, tackling him with a shoulder charge he'd picked up from Locus during their sparring matches. Without his bulk and suit it's more calculated leverage than mowing down but it works. Guard down, knocked out, hall-

"We got chatter on the comms, someone's late for a check in. More incoming most likely."

[agnominal]

"If we leave them here, the alarm will go up regardless. It will make extraction far more difficult."

His head cocks towards the cars nearby, surveying their options, before turning back towards Locksmith. Some of these vehicles have rather...sizable trunks.

"How fitting is that codename of yours?"

[goddamngrenades]

"It suits my skills more than it does my power." He smirks, already holstering his stun gun and waltzing to the nearest trunk. A narrow squint gives him the basics while Delta looks up the model in particular, working with old fashioned analog tools to finesse it open. "How many do you think we'll need?"

[agnominal]

"Four guards at the southwest exit, one at the south exit, and the men here. If we mean for them to survive long enough to be found, no more than two to a trunk." Though the low oxygen content of the trunks would likely keep them out for longer...they are attempting to do this non-lethally, and this wouldn't be the first time he's shoved someone into a trunk for safekeeping.

There's a bitter bite of nostalgia there. What Siris would make of this. Locus pushes it aside, making his way back towards the southwest exit. Two at a time would be no issue with his newfound strength.

But time was still an issue to contend with.

[goddamngrenades]

"Got it." He calls over his shoulder as with a fluid flick of his wrist, the first trunk pops. He moves down the line (easier for them to be found) and leaves them their radios (also so they can be found). It's...neater than disposing of dead bodies. No blood, no gore, no weird twinge where guilt ought to be but isn't. He and D get the next few trunks open in short order and start hefting guards up and in, arranging them carefully in the trunks.

Two at a time. It takes, well. Awhile. since they're all pretty big and dense and York's out of his armor.

[agnominal]

Meanwhile, there is no easy way to carry four men at a time, no matter how light they are. But Locus is hoofing it regardless, and lies the first pair at York's feet to be dealt with before heading back for the last two.

They'll be coming around to check on them shortly. And his invisibility is on cooldown. Which means they don't have the luxury of taking this slow and careful. Luckily, Locksmith's name appears every bit as accurate as one would think.

"That should be the last. At least until they come looking for them." He huffs quietly. "This is not where I would have chosen to have them congregate."

[goddamngrenades]

"Move up to the main hall? I'll get these guys in and catch up with you." He says, levering in the next group of bodies. Two to a trunk and the lid goes down. It's happening in a timely fashion but his back is gonna be sore tomorrow, jesus. "Remind me to do the next mission in the suit."

He's missing that extra boost of power right now. It's not much, but it sure as hell makes lifting easier.