drear | so now i'm standing on the overpass

Entry tags:

so now i'm standing on the overpass

For purposes of not attracting attention, Heine didn't do the driving. Eleven minutes before they're scheduled to go in, they're parked on a side street, all packed up and ready to move. Heine turns down the volume of the radio playing the police scanner and leans an elbow on the window, looking over at the jewelry store blankly.

"These masks are stupid," he says at the window. The client had suggested them, but really. They're kind of tacky. Heine taps his on the dashboard, finally turning to sit normally in his seat and give the mask an annoyed look.

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

Jennifer would be lying if she said she hated it. The job wasn't that bad, the people were okay, and she got to get her crazy out. It was a win/win situation, and she doesn't really give two shits about the consequences.

"Are you going to just start stating the obvious now?" Jennifer sneers at the mask and continues, "you're right, though. They're fucking dumb."

But she doesn't say anything else about them because this is a new experience, wearing the masks, so she shrugs it off. Money is money and she loves money.

"Can you hurry up? Please don't tell me you're gonna start having a fashion dilemmas."

"I'm just saying," he mumbles, shrugging as much as he can without getting up. It's too late to do anything about the masks, anyway, and they're far too recognizable without them.

On the other hand, he could complain about the dress code, too, but Heine doesn't mind the suit so much. "I'm not even doing anything. If anyone's going to have a crisis about their clothes, it's going to be you."

"Ummmm," Jennifer's tone is a little too sweet, "duh. But you're the one complaining right now. Are you having a crisis, Heine?"

Her hands flit over the mask effortlessly as she decides, screw it, and pulls the mask on. they're a little funky and they smell strange, but she chalks it up to the soap because there was no way in hell she would be putting on a dirty, used mask.

"Can you, like, hurry up, or whatever? I'm getting impatient."

"No," he replies quickly. God, why did he ever agree to this anyway? There must have been some reason, but now he can't even think of it.

Jennifer's voice sounds weird, muffled and echoing at the same time under the mask. He gives her an appraising look before he pulls his on. It's sort of uncomfortable, the werewolf mask looks like the sort of thing they'd find in a costume store, but he put it on.

"Yeah, yeah." He picks up his assault rifle from under the dashboard, checks it, and settles one hand on the door handle. There's only a few hundred feet between here and the back door of the shop. "Whatever. Let's go."

Jennifer scoffs and rolls her eyes, tugging at the edges of her mask as she looks at herself in the rearview mirror. The fox fits her, in a weird way, and despite the way it feels against her skin, she kind of likes it (though she would have preferred a cat mask instead).

"Don't fuck up," she says, her tone more sarcastic than demanding. She grabs her own rifle, not bothering to check it. She's sure that it's just as it should be.

"Race ya!" and she's out, sparing one last glance towards Heine before she's out of the car, hurrying towards the back door. It's a game to her, but only because she knows she'll always win.

Heine duly ignores her remark, fixing the mask so that it sits more comfortably. They've done this before— if not this exact job, this type of job: heists that require guns and firepower and threats. He's done it before and they'll do it again.

He gets out of the car with considerably less aplomb and jogs after her, holding his rifle in front of him loosely. The back room is unoccupied, and Heine leaves the door open for a quicker exit as he follows to the hall. It opens into four rooms— back, storage, owner's office, and just behind the counter into the main part of the shop. It's small, and the uncut diamonds they're after are far beyond the value of the building.

Jennifer rests the gun against her shoulder nonchalantly as she walks with Heine down the hall. She listens closely to the sounds around them, tuning out the pipes creaking and their footsteps. There are distant voices, but she doesn't see them as a real problem.

She's also checking their surroundings for any sort of motion-sensor or alarm, and she's kind of surprised that one hasn't gone off yet. Unless it's silent, then they're going to be totally fucked. But places like these don't tend to have those alarms, mostly because they're so small and run down. No one would expect to find diamonds here.

If they manage to have some extra time, she's totally going to snag a few jewels for herself.

"Where is everyone?"

The sound of music can be heard through the thin walls, some classical piece that Heine doesn't register beyond background noise. He shrugs, looking around slowly and finding nothing in the back rooms of the building.

"Don't know. They don't even have any real security. Everything's probably just insured," he mumbles, and comes to a stop at the door to the front room. He sets a gloved hand on the doorknob. The diamonds are under the front desk, and the only staff is the elderly owner and his part-time working daughter. Whether there are customers or not is barely a concern.

"Let's get this over with." Heine's already abysmal attention span is waning, and he opens the door with a smooth motion and steps inside. He's probably depending on her to do most of the talking, though.

With one last glance over her shoulder, Jennifer passing through the door and waving the gun around like a flag. It's all for show, to get the owner and daughter riled up. The only time she's actually had to shoot the gun during a job was because someone had surprised her and she hadn't left the safety on.

"Put 'em up, bitches!" Jennifer's tone is cool, but the command is barely needed, because the owner is already shakily holding his hands up while the daughter struggles not to scream. "And I know you don't have any sort of emergency buttons, so don't try that bullshit."

While the elderly man panics, the daughter is now defiantly trying to make her way past the counter to the door they came in through. "Oh my god. Sweetie, I do not have time for this. Heine, can you deal with that?"

Heine keeps his gun pointed at the floor, one hand on the grip and the other bracing the barrel, stance relaxed and ready. He's fine with Jennifer doing the whole hold-up part, and just stands by as they secure the building. The windows are small enough that it'd be hard for anyone to see what's happening inside the building unless they were directly in front of them, but they have to get things done quickly.

The woman trying to slip past them isn't exactly conducive to that, though, and at Jennifer's request (of sorts), Heine takes two steps to close the distance and strikes her across the shoulders with the butt of the rifle, sending her to her knees, shouting in pain.

He might not have had to hit so hard. Heine keeps his gun pointed at her and looks back to Jennifer. "Under the counter. Give her the safe combination." The last part, he directs at the shop owner, who is mouthing words desperately at his daughter, probably trying to convince her to not resist.

Jennifer sighs as she looks down at the woman, then shrugs a shoulder and pokes at the old man with her gun. Her attitude is so nonchalant it could be considered unprofessional (and it kind of is) but she doesn't care. He mutters the combination to her quickly, and she catches all of it, crouching to the safe and punching in the code.

When the safe clicks open, Jennifer is quick about the rest. She carefully grabs the diamonds, which are carefully stowed in a velvet bag, and stands back up. For good measure, she cocks her gun at the old man as she walks back, eyes locked on his, before she relaxes and looks to Heine.

"You ready, werewolf?" Her lips tug up as she speaks. She thinks it's hilarious.

While she gets to work on the safe, he presses the tip of the rifle to the back of the woman's head, just close enough for the muzzle to brush against her hair. She's shaking, now.

Heine just divides his attention between watching her and the store owner, waiting for Jennifer to talk again before he starts to back away, keeping the gun trained on the woman. The old man is clearly more afraid for her than for himself, so he has just enough attitude to snap a "don't call me that" before they start to leave. "If you want anything, grab it before I leave you here," he adds. He's already itching to get out of the store.

Jennifer grins, though she knows Heine can't see it. Despite his sour attitude, she enjoys the back-and-forth bickering they have. At his insistence, Jennifer does, indeed, take a quick look around the store, spotting a simple necklace. She's smart enough to know that stealing something big and eye-catching is not a good idea, so she settles with a gold chain necklace with a small diamond in the shape of a heart. It's cute, it's pretty, and she must have it. She moves behind the desk, snatching the keys from the man's back pocket, unlocks the case and grabs the necklace.

Popping up from behind the counter, she nods at Heine and tosses the keys over her shoulder as she makes her way towards the hall.

"What, you didn't want something sparkly, either?"

Rolling his eyes, Heine waits in the doorway, gun still leveled at the back of the woman's head. It doesn't really matter that he can't see her face; he's known her long enough and been in bad enough situations with her that he can read it in her body language, probably just as well as she can see his impatience.

Once she has the necklace in hand, he starts moving again. "No," he replies. "I don't wear that kind of shit. Let's just get out of here."

This is something of an lie, because he has seven piercings and wears rings in the place of brass knuckles. In any case, once they're out of the building, he powerwalks as fast as he can without running to the car, only extending a hand for the diamonds so that she can drive.

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

so now i'm standing on the overpass

no subject

no subject

omg dilemma**

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject