As night had begun to fall, like all of the other nights before it, the skies continued to stay alight with the bright colours and hues of the constantly bustling casino property. However, party-goers weren't restricted to merely the attractions and events of the resort itself -- there was something big going down at the center of the entire facility - Vince's HQ, as it were.

The hotel contained many different stories and rooms, but there was one which was usually withheld from being accessible to the general public during normal business hours. A most sizable, exquisite ballroom was roughly a story below the main floor, and within its walls tonight, were many, many attendees who were, themselves, a part of the more popular news companies of the island -- all of whom were special guests, invited personally by Vince himself.

A bright, golden chandelier shone proudly at the center of the ceiling, gems and diamonds of all kinds lining the different limbs and branches, the lights within making for a most vibrant colourization. Banners were strewn all about, portraits of Vince and his employers lined the walls, and several tables were filled to the brim with hundreds of different foods and beverages, all courtesy of the glorious host himself. There was a section set aside for dancing, complete with a most proper-looking DJ, who appeared to be having more fun the more he had to drink.. Everyone attending was in a most festive mood, and there was hardly anybody who wasn't feelin' it was party time. And for good reason - the head man had mentioned in his invitations that those guests and reporters who decided to show up would get an extra-special treat as a major thank-you for their cooperation and efforts during the boxing events.

Rumor had it that the 'treat' was going to be the big trophy itself. Certainly enough to draw the flies to the honey, as it were.



Vince himself stood on the stage near the DJ, enjoying a fine glass of liquor as he conversed with a few of his employees to run a status check of how the events were playing out this fine evening. Giving a sweeping gaze across the attending crowd, he couldn't help but grin. The turnout was much larger than he had expected, having brought in even the more obscure news teams from far off. It was wonderful seeing them all in one place... Especially since a lot of the faces he could spot were all familiar icons whom he, himself... had placed riiight in his pocket for a variety of reasons. Cover-ups, media attention, the mangling of the facts... whatever the situation called for.

He chuckled, sipped at his wine, and huffed one of his ever-unlimited cigars, finishing up his conversation. It was time to prepare the masses for their big surprise, after all...



Meanwhile, at the miniature lobby right outside the ballroom itself, the dalmatian of security detail stood solid as a rock, arms crossed as her unwavering eyes stared at the elevator doors from behind those tinted sunglasses. Her role? Simply to ensure that no one other than licensed media personnel went beyond the glass doors to the other side.

And she was rather keen on doing her job right.


searchindextag
chapter2search

The plum colored Llama stood in the elevator, as always the center of cold collection. Her expression was perfectly blank while remaining somewhat severe. The dress she wore clung to what femininity she had, so well she could have easily been called beautiful. Well, if her expression was a little less unsettling maybe.

With out a word she opened the small clutch bag she carried. From it she took two nice new press passes. One she pinned to her dress, some place obvious but out of her way, and the other she handed to her cleverly disguised partner. Tracer knew that no one saw her face during the raid on the GUN facility, but the deer, not so much. So he went about his attempts to discreetly disguise himself.

Beside her stood the faded red-colored deer, wearing a black suit. He had with him a suitcase which was tucked under his arm as he adjusted his tie. He had a pair of glasses on, in a half-hearted attempt to mask his face a little. ...Just in case anyone at the ball did, in fact, familiarize themselves with a certain GUN file.

He looked up as the Llama handed him a pass, and took it.

"Don't think I've ever seen you in a dress... You look good 'til you get to the face," he commented with a smirk with but a glance at her from the corner of his eye -- for no other reason than to note whether or not evasive maneuvers would be necessary.

*Ding* And the elevator arrived at it's destination.

Tracers eyes narrowed on the deer, for a moment it looked like she might hit him but instead she brushed her curls with one hand and walked forward, her blank expression shifted to one of haughty confidence. Her head slightly upturn with an expression that clearly said 'I'm better than you, and I know it'. With HER disguise firmly in place she walked confidently with the feminine swish of her hips that is usually missing from her normal stride right towards the ball room.

Unfortunately arrogance was the only expression she could convincingly fake.

The deer exited the elevator shortly after the llama. He caught himself staring with a shake of his head. It never occured to him that she could pull of the feminine grace thing. He looked around the ballroom. And what was a party without food. The deer, now fully adorned in his mild-mannered press outfit(with the application of his press badge) headed over to the table to survey the edibles.

[]Tracer & Jack[]
Jack had never been a great at stealth or disguise. She really didn't need either in her line of work. Luckily enough for her though, she cleaned up so well, it didn't take much for her to look like a completely different person. Jack hair had been curled into tight rings that made the length look considerably shorter then her hair normally did. The gilded griffins dress was a one of a kind piece, cinching under her bust with ruffling skirts and jewelry to match. Jack felt uneasy about the whole thing though, and it was clearly painted across the face as she stared into the mirror. However Mary's question managed to slap Jack back to where she was as she turned quickly to look at her.

"jussta sec..." She said then hiked up her dress and strapped on a very small leg holster with an equally tiny gun to go in it. She made sure it was tightened in place before she flattened her dress back over it, the flowing nature of her dress worked well to conceal her weapon, she gave Ember a sad smile as she turned her attention.

"I'll help dye you back Ember. Don't worry. It's just one night." Jack offered trying to ease the poor birds distress. Jack never had the option of dying herself, either her feathers or her fur just wouldn't take the dye and she'd always end up looking spotty, so she made it a point to never do it.

Stealing condiments from a party was a pretty sleazy thing to do.

So was crashing a party with the sole intent of inflating one's own self-importance and getting a chance to ogle ladies. An inconspicuous brass air-return vent somewhere near the ceiling under a balcony jostled and jerked, and clanged, and shook.

There was a pause, and the sound of a screwdriver scraping around in the dark.

Then more banging and clanging.

If not for the music, it would have probably attracted the attention of the whole room. As it stood, though, just a few party guests in that area watched with curiosity as the vent grate continued to clatter.

"Mmf friggin' c'mon can't turn around in here hffffffff I'm stuck nngha nghannn ngggggghaaaaaannnnnnmyleg"

This continued for a while, until a relieved sigh came from the vent, and finally, the grate flipped free and fell about fifteen feet noisily to the floor, leaving a solitary black boot extended in its place. A black boot covered in magenta flames.

Juke scooted the rest of the way out and dropped to the floor with a mighty clomp. If security wasn't already headed that way because of the noise, they would be when they caught sight of him. He was unabashedly pantsless, and his "tuxedo" was:

Red crushed velvet; covered in vent duct dust; had both of the sleeves torn off to make room for his winged arms; had stripper-like cufflinks worn on detached white cuffs around his wrists (next to his usual spiked bracelets); and was being worn over his usual yellow, black, and magenta leather biker vest.

The bat lifted his head high, straightened his dusty bow tie, adjusted his jacket, cleared his throat, and strode forth like a king in his castle, immune to any haters that may have been hating, as it were. He stopped right behind Tracer (who was pretty much taller and bigger than him in every way), and dared say: "You're a lotta woman."

He oozed up beside her. His voice sounded like he was forcing it to be deep. It made him kind of gravelly and hard to understand. "I bet you have a hard time finding a man man enough to man up and be your man."

Tracers arrogant mask almost fell apart when she was suddenly approached by the dirty black bat. Every word he spoke filled the llama was an all too familiar homicidal rage. Tracer turned to look at him, her mask dissolving to where her eyes and brow where neutral but her lips curled into a deep frown. Her gloved hands balled into tight fists as she turned to face ugly creature completely.

"Get away from me before I rip your wings off." She snarled at the dirty little bat, very unladylike, but her low tone was so just the vile little bat could hear her.

Tracer showed exceptional self control in not telling the bat what she would do with his arms once she ripped them from his torso.

----

After a little bit more work at getting the girls ready and convincingly disguised, and maybe a bit more arguing over how classy Ember's gloves where, the trio where ready to disembark for the party in question. By the time they left Jack's wings and tail had both been discreetly hidden and a set of gold feathers where pinned to the back of her skirt, apparently this was a masquerade party and Jack was going as some sort of golden eagle. As they set out from the hotel to the ball Jack had to give pause before they set out.

"Alright, so you got us passes or invitations to this party right? or like, a back door in? How exactly are we getting inside...?" Jack asked checking the clock on her phone as they set out. "We need to hurry, we're already running late, Mary."

The llama's frown stretched farther as the vile little bat creature continued to talk to her, then he touched her. She looked at his hand for half a second while he said something else she was sure was disgusting, then at him. That was his only warning before she raised a hand and smacked him across the face with all that wonderful power she came equipped with.

"Disgusting." She hissed at him after she swung at him. Tracer turned her attention towards him fully, she was no longer attempting to brush him off or convince to leave, no, she just wanted to kill him now.

----

Jack helped herself to her badge, and also pinned it to her dress to avoid loosing it. It became a must given that she didn't have any pockets. Jack seemed satisfied with Mary's plan and didn't add anything else before she lead the way towards the ball room. It wasn't a long trek but it's hard not to appreciate how far the rooms are from the elevates and the elevators from the doors.

"I suppose if we're in need of names, you can call me Bella." Jack offered with a shrug, making an effort to speak clearly, diminishing her accent. The golden griffin didn't say much else as they headed to the ball room. Jacks nature made her distrusting of reporters, she was surprised Mary hadn't yet demanded an interview. Which was really what the sheriff liked about her, if Mary had started asking Jack questions she'd have immediately shut down and gone into evasive mode.

"Everyone be careful." Jack finally added as they approached their destination.