Sabotage That Engine!

Job info:

Cetus tugged at his sleeves absentmindedly. He felt strangely exposed in this engineer's outfit. Overalls, a white shirt and boots. He'd also taken the precaution to tie a bandanna over his face. This disguise needed to not only get him past investors but also security if it came to that. The shark man wasn't sure why he couldn't simply destroy the engine they were sent after. The instructions were clear. They were to sabotage it and make it appear a flaw in design. All before the show began to show the engine off. It'd be a nice challenge. Yet on top of all of that, Cetus had to put up with a few of his new guild mates. It brought back memories of his last disastrous mission. The shark man stopped playing with his sleeve long enough to shudder. Jester and Baird had made his carefully laid plan fall to ruin. It'd made everything for that mission unnecessary. With the two of them, he might have simply slaughtered everyone instead. Though Jester hadn't been too bad. It was Baird who screwed everything up.

The assassin sat back on at bench to await his companions. He wanted to see how they disguised themselves. Or if they decided not to disguise themselves at all. Cetus spread his arms across the back of the bench. People were passing him by, giving him strange looks. Hopefully more because of the bandanna than his strange golden eyes. If anyone approached to ask, he had a fabricated ID that showed a terribly scarred face. No one usually would want to see that in person. Other than that he only had his tool box which sat next to him. Cetus had to refrain from thinking about the deadly applications of most tools. Killing someone would bring too much attention without a good way to get rid of the body.

"Sir? Sir!" A guard came up to Cetus. The shark man kept his body relaxed as he looked over the man. The guard wasn't looking for trouble. He looked rather relieved to see Cetus. "I'm glad I found you, sir. The CEO of Lacri-Cars wants someone to check over the engine one last time before the reveal. We've been scrambling to find one of you!" Cetus chuckled softly. He'd carefully removed the other engineers from the equation earlier. They weren't dead but they all liked coffee a little too much. It'd been easy to lace their cups with a sleeping drug and position them off site. Now only his team could help with any issues the engine had. "O' course sah, I'll happlay attend ye in a momen'. I'm jus' wai'n on me team ta arrive." He smiled broadly behind his bandanna. "Ifn ya give us a momen' gov ta let tem arrive, we's ca' look at the engine righ' quick." The guard looked confused trying to decipher Cetus' accent. It took him several moments to nod. "Don't wait too long. The show will start within an hour." Then the man walked away. Cetus leaned forward in his seat. This job could be one of the few that went off without a hitch. It'd be a joy to pull it off without any issues. Now his guild mates need only arrive for the job to begin.

WC: 549

@Artemis Dagger @Arsene Mayura

The man tsk'd checking his watch and rolling his eyes. There was only about 5 minutes left, and now they were showing up. This was callous, if he was honest. In this day and age, in this business environment, anything short of hours early was late. People here were important, with their time valued more than most peoples estates. Every second counted, and they were only five minutes early. He'd have to take note of this for later. Looking at his boss, the CEO of Lacri-Car's themselves, he shot her an apologetic look. She rolled her eyes, and spoke in a harsh whisper directly into his ear. "How can our own staff be this incompetent? I want you to oversee this directly; make sure that engine is in perfect condition before the show." He nodded, whispering back a quick "Of course, right away," before hurrying off to gather up the engineers. He had hoped to do this sooner, but he had to work with the staff he was dealt.

Approaching the pair, Harrold Curtis, personal assistant to the CEO herself, shot them a harsh look. "You two! We need hands on that engine now, no dilly dally. We aren't paying you to sit around." He stood before them, leaning his face near inches away from theirs to threaten them without being heard. Most of the staff, knowing better by now, looked away as they noticed. "In my opinion, 5 minutes early is fashionably late in these types of jobs. I've been waiting for you both for about 3 hours now. Just follow my lead." His voice was different, that of a sultry young woman, changing it so distinctly to make sure at least the Chairman noticed it was him. He started to pull back before leaning in again. "Also, that's quite the shabby disguise work. Next time, let me handle it, please? We need proper costumes for a play this big." Pulling back, Arsene, in the guise of Harrold, promptly turned and waited for the pair, motioning that he'd follow behind them to the engine room.

As soon as he was told he was coming on this job, Troubadour knew this would be trouble. Still, as much as he'd like to, he couldn't defy a direct order from the Chairman. So, he went to work. He gathered all of the information he had on Lacri-Cars himself, before checking his normal sources for more in depth knowledge. Finding out their staff schedules, their employment history, staff politics. It took him a few days to decide on his method, then a few more to figure out his in. Finding Harrold's normal drinking spot, alongside that of his co-workers. Learning his ins and outs from both observation and the rants from drunken workers, then sneaking in for a day to watch himself in action. Arsene made sure he knew Harrold Curtis to a T, and thus was ready for the role. Getting in as him was the perfect solution; he had enough authority to get people anywhere they needed to be, without too much to be necessary and have attention on him. Known as enough of a hard ass people avoided him made it easier to sneak around. Alongside the ability to claim anything he did was "direct order from the CEO herself" gave him a perfect cover. After all, they didn't need three people to sabotage the engine; so it made the most sense to have one of them cover the background work and make sure that their tracks were covered. Besides, this way he didn't get his hands dirty.

WC: 630

Cetus was running his hand over his bald head as the Chairman approached. They'd met before, when he was recruited into Hidden Blades. At least, Cetus was pretty sure it had been him. 'Mr. Bill' hadn't exactly been dropping hints as to his identity within Hidden Blades. Cetus simply put two and two together given what he'd seen at the mass recruitment drive of the guild. It was either the Chairman or the one that called himself Sanguine. Cetus had carefully eliminated as many of the other options that had been apart of Hidden Blades prior to the mass recruitment. Not that he really cared who recruited him. It was merely something to do in his downtime. The Shark signaled his assent with his hand at the Chairman's instructions. No need for any greeting, any pleasantries. Just how he liked it. They were cutting it a little close however which he wasn't happy about. They should have been in and out already, job done. Troubadour was making this take much longer than it should be.

Cetus had just flipped a pair of sunglasses onto his face when some blowhard called out to them. Cetus' body was relaxed up until the blowhard stuck his face near Cetus'. His hand came up rapidly, barely stopping an inch from the man's face. This was Troubadour? He was lucky Cetus could process words quickly. A dangerous smile crossed the shark man's face behind his guild mask which was hidden by the bandanna. "Perhap ye shoulda told us yer plan, wee lass." Cetus said, deliberately emphasizing the end of his sentence. "Iffn I'd known yee was so particular abou' yer appearance, I woulda brough' ye a liddle bow fer yer costume! Sucha shame as i' woulda matched those preddah eyes."

He probably shouldn't have been antagonizing his companion on this job but Cetus was irritated. Had they known his plan, Troubadour could have already had the team in and out already. They needn't have wasted all this time. Besides that, they didn't need to look like pompous windbags to complete this job. Who would believe a corporate getting their hands dirty on an engine? Nobody. Such disguises were useless in getting close to the engine inconspicuously. Some of the information the assassin had collected began circling through Cetus' brain. Interesting that Troubadour had chosen the personal assistant of the CEO to either glamour as or impersonate. It was impossible to tell which. However it was a bad disguise in Cetus' opinion. All eyes would be on the personal assistant.

Grabbing his toolbox, Cetus popped up from the bench. "Aye sah, we was just waitin' on our third. Seeing as he's a lazy bastard, I guess we can start without him." The assassin put in the jab at Troubadour on purpose this time. Telling Cetus his disguise work was shabby. No one would be able to describe the bald mechanic with baggy overalls with any detail that the police or the RK could use to find him. That was the whole point of a disguise. Irritated, Cetus hurried onto the show floor.

The engine and the car were still surrounded by a curtain, meaning Cetus could do his work in peace. He'd have to work quickly to ensure both the model and the car malfunctioned. Luckily, he'd prepared a simple work around prior to the job. It might not hold up under scrutiny but he could snap it into place rather quickly. Looking at his companions, Cetus said "I'll be done in a righ' jiff. Jus' keep watch. Iffn ye'd rather help..." Cetus reached into his toolbox and handed the Chairman four lengths of Lacrima cord. He'd designed these himself. "Attach te darker blue ones ta te por's on 'op and te ligh'er blue ones ta te elec'rical discharge opening on ta bottom. I'll work on te car. Iffn ye have more 'ime, 'urn the green lacrima inside te 'en percen' ta te right. 'urn the red lacrima te same amoun' ta te left. It'll look in'en'ional." He also handed the Chairman two tools that could be used to attach the cords and adjust the lacrima. Cetus only hoped the Chairman could figure out which was which. They were down to three minutes to rig the engines to fail.

The car's engine was a mite more difficult to rig. Cetus popped the hood and got to work. He had two minutes to rig this so they had at least a minute to clear out. Reaching into the engine, Cetus carefully maligned the lacrimas inside. He also snipped the cords attached and slipped his lacrima cord inside, matching up different cord couples and making it look deliberate. For good measure, the assassin also rigged a power overload in the power inductor. That would damage the engine a little bit but it'd make the overall effect of lots of smoke and possibly a little fire. Nothing that wasn't salvageable but a good show of failure. Cetus wiped his hands off and for good measure, wiped the engine down once he was done. He wouldn't leave anything behind, thanks to various quirks of his, but it was good to cover bases. The assassin slammed the lid of the car shut. "All good 'ere, boss."

Cetus walked out of the hidden area of the show floor. He deliberately clipped Troubadour with his shoulder on the way out. Stupid stuck up idiot. This could have been much easier. They had forty five seconds to leave now. When those seconds were up, the curtain would be removed and the demonstration would begin. Hopefully, the Chairman wouldn't make them stay. Cetus had ensured both engines would fail. Provided the Chairman had done what Cetus told him to do.

WC: 1003
Total: 1,552[/color]

All his life, Arsene had been on his own. Whether it be performing in the streets, or working in the alleys behind them, he'd never been a team player. Not that the opportunity hadn't risen up, it was simply that he preferred to work alone. It was easier to be the center of attention when no ones competing with you, after all. To him, working with others was simple; do your part, and everything will work out. There was no need to share every minute detail. An implicit trust of 'I'll handle my job if you handle yours' was enough. And so far, he had managed that perfectly. He had gotten himself inside unnoticed, into a place where he could get the pair to the engine easily if needed. Fortunately it wasn't necessary, thanks to others sending him in, but he had prepared. He would be there after this as well; making sure that blame was properly placed on Lacri-Cars engineers, that nobody is allowed to think outside interference even happened, and to make sure that their presence was hidden entirely. Still, that didn't seem good enough.

As the Chairman grabbed his arm, Arsene could feel himself freeze. Outwardly, he showed no reaction, in case there were any wandering eyes. Still, he felt every muscle in his body tense. Not in fear, but in rage. Each thought he had was a retort or a counter point, already forming his thesis on how he did no wrong. His disguise was perfect; he did nothing out of the ordinary, and was in place to make sure he could clean up any mistakes rather than create any. He was playing the role of a safety net. Still, apparently it was all wrong. He wanted to clench his fists and scream, he wanted to throw a tantrum like a child. Arsene was a perfectionist, and to him, there was no greater insult than being told he did wrong. As justified as he thought he was, as ready to fight and prove his point as he was, the only words that escaped the man's lips were a quick reply. "Of course, you won't need to be forgiving again."

For the first time in who knows how long, Arsene swallowed his pride. He bit his tongue until ti bled and said nothing. They were still on the job, they were still out in public, and he still had work to do. Now was not the time. Even if it was, there was no point. This was the way things worked for him now; he had a boss. There was someone in a place of power above him now. Someone he had to report to, and someone he had to obey. There was only loss sticking to his guns here, and it wasn't worth it. Not trying to oppose the boss of a massive organization, not worth losing the spot he'd been given amongst it. This was a blow to his ego, and a scar he'd probably never stop thinking about, but there was knowledge to be learned here. Working as a team was different than how he acted before, and now he knew how to act to work his way back into good graces. This feeling would never leave him, and it'd drive him to play his next part perfectly. As the pair left, he went back to his role, making sure the cover-up followed through and to disprove any claims of foul play. He'd slipped up once now, but never again.