Participants:
| Scene Title | Breakin' the Law |
|---|---|
| Synopsis | Django breaks into Nalani's apartment and gets more than he bargained for. |
| Date | March 12, 2009 |
Mohinder spent another night over. The two had been out to a fundraiser, he in a tux, she in some couture - Like always - for a city charity. Take that Grac Matheson. There had even been a cover made for her cast to match the gown. What power you weild when you can do that. The pair have been back and settled in for bed, Nalani being a very forward woman and offering half of her king sized bed to Mohinder instead of banishing him to the spare bedroom that he was familiar with. Obliviousness is the name of the game for the pair in Nalani's sixth floor condo as they start to fall asleep.
Even with his jacket zipped all the way up under his chin, the cold night air makes Django shiver a little as he winds through streets and alleys, looking for a likely target. With rent running late, and a few extra bills piled up (really gotta get that temper under control), the Russky needs a pretty big haul to make it through. With this in mind, he picks a likely building and lets himself in the back through a little wizardry. They'll need to replace that lock as soon as possible.
He takes the stairs slowly to avoid the noisesome clatter of his boots, and listens for anyone else in the well; his presence shouldn't be too much of an issue, but he doesn't exactly look like he belongs here, and the less people that have a chance to identify him, the better. As he nears the second floor door, it opens to let someone through, and he dashes past and up, as stealthily as possible, just barely managing to go unseen. Too close for his liking.
It's not until a couple more floors up that he's satisfied they aren't behind him, having apparently gone the other direction. So he pauses at the sixth floor and presses his ear to the door, listening for anyone in the hallway. After a long moment, he finally eases it open and slips out of the stairwell. Then it's off down the hall, listening at apartment doors for activity, watching his back. At long last, one is selected. Another scan of the surroundings shows him no one watching, and he puts his finger to the deadbolt, slowly drilling out the look without the need for tools. A long, silent moment passes, and then the door swings open.
It's a rich persons habitat, just dark. Everythings for show, high end, expensive. The circular foyer with it's round table and fresh flowers. Beyond that a sitting room, There's a kitchen off to the left, a show place by all looks. Nalani lays, arm draped across Mohinder in her bed, unaware of an intruder in her home again.
Mohinder is half awake and half asleep himself. However, his expression is one of being totally blissed out. His arm is around his lover, he's had a bit of champagne, and he's pleasantly buzzed. Life for now, is good.
The dark is a good sign, it means he judged right and no one is up and about in this unit. However, the sudden contrast from the well-lit hall outside, as he pushes the door to (like the back door, it will also need new locks), gives him cause to pause while his eyes adjust. Once he can see again, by the little light in the apartment, he starts to skulk about, slowly, near-silently, scoping out the place. Here and there a small, expensive something disappears into the pockets of his baggy jacket. Through the public areas, and then further back into the private rooms. Peeking through doors, he finds the bedroom, with the happy couple sleeping, obvlivious, and makes sure to redouble his efforts toward silence. Then the office, which he slips into to start poking about, opening drawers and cabinets, helping himself to a few more sundries, before he finally stumbles upon the not-very-hidden safe. -This- should be good.
Django is not quite silent, either that or Nalani is like her brother. A very light sleeper. AS the man turns away to head to other parts of her home, Nalani's seen the glimpse of someone disappearing down the hall. Mohinder's beside her, when the arabic woman stirs from the bed, feet sliding over the edge of the bed to hit the plush carpet in barefoot silence. The phone beside her bed is picked up, a trio of digits pressed that alerts security downstairs. Really. Seriously. Again? She's going to need to have a chat with the security company that the building hires. maybe it's time to think about a remodel and a panic room. She doesn't bother monhinder, he'll realize she's gone from the bed, or he won't. He'll wake up surely when the cops come, but for now, she prefers that he sleep.
It's the creeping Russky's turn to be oblivious to the goings on in the apartment, not aware of his having wakened the tennants as sets to work on the safe. Pressing the tip of a finger to the door of the safe, it slowly sinks through, emitting a small cascade of glistening dust as the lock slowly deteriorates under his touch. This process is repeated, over several minutes, on the hinges, until he can simply lift the whole door off of the safe and set it gently aside. Commences he now to dig through the contents and stuff his pockets with cash and jewelry, quite the happy little thief. Oh yes, this haul is going to keep him going for quite some time. He definitely picked the right place to case.
Little does he know…
"Oh you so picked the wrong place to hit. Someone else made that mistake three days past" It's a muddled english accent like the owner has been a long time living on non english soil. The tall brunette with her cafe au lait skin stands at the doorway to her office, a displeased look on her face.
The voice behind him causes Django to freeze, then look cautiously over his shoulder to see just who it is that managed to sneak up on him. With his hood up, hair slicked back, and void of his usual sunglasses, he'd be hard to pick out of a lineup, but he'd like to avoid showing as much of his face as possible, just on principle. A quick glance shows him what he needs to know, or at least what he thinks he needs to know: woman, alone, no gun. Yeah, he can take her. "You should'a stayed in bed, lady," he all but whispers, with hands still clutching a few items in the safe. "But now ya seen me, I might have to do somethin' about it."
There's a flash of motion as the thief whirls to face the woman standing between himself and freedom, and papers, jewelry, and whatever other contents of the safe that hadn't made it into his pockets yet are flung through the air. Through the cloud of debris, Django vaults over the desk and charges straight for his confronter, shoulder down to push right past her and make a break for the hall.
His distration works, Nalani throws up her arms to fend off the papers and safe contents, most bouncing off the plaster cast. Django easily shoulders into the tall woman a yell cut short when the meet and she's sent backwards into the private livingroom area, tripping back over the coffee table, plastered wrist giving a crack against the table. That doesn't stop her from yelling at Django. Carrying her will on each syllable. "STOP AND LAY DOWN ON THE FLOOR"Odds are the man most likely won't want to do that, but she's doing everything she can with her ability to make him do it.
Without looking back, uncaring toward Nalani's condition after her fall, Django makes a bee-line for the door, narrowly avoiding a few items of furniture himself. The door is open and he's just setting foot into the hallway outside the apartment when that shout reaches his ears, and he pitches forward as if tripped, hitting the floor face-down in the comparatively blinding light of the hall. "WHAU- the fuck?!" Frantically, he tries to scramble to his feet again, but his body just doesn't seem to be listening to him. No, it wants to do what the nice lady says.
"You bitch!" he howls. "What did you do?" In a slight panic, now, the half-breed pounds his fists against the floor, sending pieces of it skittering away. As a loose chip strikes his cheek, he's abruptly reminded that he has other ways out than the stairs. Almost immediately, a thin line starts tracing around him, like a crack opening up. Whatever the fuck is going on with that woman's voice, it can't hold him forever.
"you will stop using your ability until the police have you at the police station where you'll confess that you have it and that your very very much evolved and a danger to society, do you undestand me?" Shit, this again. She already went through this with Cardinal. "You also won't tell the officers about my ability, in fact, you'll forget every little detail about my ability, do you understand?" Still choking her will down those words silent to anyone else as the woman holds supports herself against the wall.
Oh, for the love of- Django has no desire to be caught by the police, let alone discovered as an Evolved, so he fights the suggestion as best he can. Honestly, though, that isn't very well, he's far from being the most strong-willed person around. The progress of his fissure in the floor slows, then picks up again, then nearly stops entirely. "Fuck you, bitch!" he growls through clenched teeth, again trying to struggle to his feet. "I don't give a shit what you are, but damned if I'm going back to prison."
Climbing to his knees, he pulls back a fist and punches the floor, a piece of it caving in to tumble down to the next level. Again, another small piece collapses away, opening up a hole. This is not going in his favor at all. He definitely picked the wrong place to rob.
The Floor! FLOOR! Nalani's not going to let him get the hell out of there so easy. She's not about to tell him to stop that, not after she told him to forget using her ability. So she does the next best thing as the security people come banging up the stairs, Cops not far behind. -Whack- One plaster cast to the back of the head. Enough that she's likely going to need another fresh cast, and Django… Well, Django is likely not going anywhere.
On hand and knees, clawing at the floorboard with his hands and making decent progress, Django is too focused on getting the hell out of here and not submitting to Nalani's will that he completely fails to notice her coming up behind him. The cast makes a satisfying crack against his skull, muffled slightly by his hood, and he pitches forward, head, arms, and upper torso dangling through the hole to the floor below, starting to slide further in.
No escape though, as the uniformed guards are pulling on Django, keeping him from falling into the hole while another pair start to shuffle nalani back from the hole and criminal, protect her as they're supposed to do even as Mohinder can be heard in her place calling out for the Arabic woman. Ten minutes later the place is swarming with cops, her few neighbours on the floor and Django is on his way to the hospital then police station with the officers repeating his very words over and over. "Man, you chose the wrong place to break into."
 March 12th: Godspeed |
 March 12th: Pillow Talk |