Strategic Neglect

If you asked Pluto, it was such a shame that we attribute the greater sin to the harder crime than the easier one.

Tonight the velvet reign was writing a convenient wrong that had begun to go sour. Missing cargo, belonging to the regional, collectible card game 'Gamblerush'. Ironically the overprinted, super common cards given out to stalls, vendors, and resorts across the island had been plundered in such quantities guests fought for the first reservations each seasons in hopes of founding out their malnourished decks. The spoils were a, now reasonably valuable, easily produced and highly collectible domestic good.

Though the reports and offers to deal with these creative vagabonds were always timely and generous, it paid far better to let the company, who ill cared for the regular services of the local mercinaries. To go down, or atleast write off the business venture of delivering to this region as a wash and go home, so a more amicable boat would take it's spot at harbor. A more venomous corporation might have armed or even hired the bandits in the first place, hell. For all Pluto knew, the guests he'd finally been paid to sink were wearing bleached purple tonight. The merchants had finally agreed to pack up, if. The reign could track down their latest shipment of stolen goods. That meant one thing, not letting the theives back to harbour and into police custody. At sea, or even the gangplanks of the harbour. The league could take reasonable measures and authority under their own hands for such investigations, that jurisdiction, in this matter atleast. Ended starting right on the sands.

Waiting for the show to begin was no small spectacle of comfort, lounging about near midnight. Romantic tunes and pearly waves messaging the spirit as he idly gnawed on Hummus. Waiting for his counterpart to get here so they could enact whatever dastardly plan they had in mind. the perpetrators were known for using nonlethal warefare. Sleeping agents, fowl smells, debilitating oil. Anything to keep their names out of the paper as small time card pinchers. So there was no real telling what they'd do if cornered with these tricks dried up. Visibility from the hotels bistro to the port was fair. From here one could even see the illegally anchored row boat he'd suited up with a propeller engine on the back as a last ditch option. The risk of a ticket was worth it, he had a name to make for himself after all.

His partner looked to be a particularly young man, yet to outgrow the vigor or perceived immortality that that owed him. Arms crossed behind the head of his bulky, signature costume. He tossed a well protected glance at his superior. From his own eyes a dome of screens presented him with all sorts of useful information, but it was his heart that did the real judging. Cage smelled like business and walked like he was too good for this place. A fair assessment. To Dwayne, cash was cash. Cards were as petty as gold and even the power it took to bring them to market.

He kicked himself up out of the chair, using his microphone like a staff to balance. He had a smooth, professional expression. Lips just slightly open with a grin that said 'I see ya'. He outstretched a hand worked beyond even his own years, hoping for a rock solid exchange of charecter. Though those lips diden't move a hare, as they got intimal close to his recording device the voice belonging to them let out a phrase tinged with the crackle of aged recording gear. Like a needle on a record. "Sooo formal, to the point. Is your tongue charging by the word now Mr.Gage? A title's worth more than gold sure, but you know as well as I that without trust, result, comradery, it's all just...-" He exhaled the full capacity of his lungs in a violet haze of smoke cut off just short by an all too human, grizzly cough. "And mirrors."

He flicked out a thin screened digital camera, this model rugged, of square pieces and interface, and customized with a keychain jingleing lonely beneath it. Arrows on the side showed a simple interface to cycle through the secrets that lied within. A detailed layout of the docks, blueprints of the ship backed up with pictures, obsessive documentation of the cargo hold. They all seemed freshly snagged, it was obvious he'd been given permission for this stakeout atleast earlier in the day. Though the angles were surreal. One image was simply aimed at a womans pocket mirror left open to give a clear reflection of the room, though the camera seemed to capture the image directly looking through itself and presumably anyone who had to hold it. Perhaps shockingly, the last image of the slide show was a high definition close up taken from the high angle that indicated it had to be his magically inclined guest on the approach to this very table.

When Colter looked back to his partner the hare was squat down at eye level on the table top with both of his hands in a long fingered rectangle eyeing up the ship. "They've foiled die packs, archers, bloodhounds... Heh. All that effort, makes it look like we're the ones conniving to steal their freedom. Who's the real mad man. The scalpers," And without his unmoving eyes glazing in the mages direction he could feel these words aimed at his essence. "Or the expert happy to spear them dead for a fistful of printed smiles. Ahh well, guessing tonights like a booster pack for us anyways. Hoping to pay forward purple bonds that can run deaper than the dollar. Time can only tell." He was spinning the microphone around idly now too, the same ventriloquist act held fast of his jaws not seeming tied to his diction.

"Gettin real here, tracking the cards, even by magic. No dice. I'm following the bet that means they're just coming in for some extra clean destruction of property and selling their own prints second hand. Plans looking simple, I've rigged all the exits to lock up. Let's get in there, wait till the bait goes sour and launch an ambush. I'm feeling we can side step their plans for the watchmen by hiding ourselves till the time comes. Then we'll be stalking them around the hold. We only got our wits and eachother on our side this time around. Don't be shy now, I'll show you why Nicotine aint just hot air. But it's sure as hell gunna take some experience to get it done."

"Ahh you can appreciate the film then? Yeah, when I picked this thing up it was just for, advertising reasons. Bring the message of what good people are doing to the needy of the free lands and beyond. Never really stopped taking pictures, you always wanna peel some of the rough edges off. Found it waste of time in the long run, but some habits stick." He explained, walking in the cool, managable strides of a rabbit used to blending in with the crowds of riven gate, always on the front most tip of his sandals. Like he diden't have a lot of weight bringing him down.

It diden't take long to board the vessel and right near the entry way was a tiny bin filled with lanyards and purple, rabbit eared signal whistles freshly discarded. In the end their luxury table by the water got traded for a broom closet. One that looked like it'd been used to store the salvage of a downed Navy Seal supply plane. It might have been spacious before all the gear moved in.

Motion detectors, pre-packaged fuel for genorators, life preservers, an inflatable raft, military grade stimulants (why was that one already open?) His strategy for success seemed to match his photographic prowess, come in with more gear and knowlege than you could possibly need to cover yourself in the event somthing or everything goes wrong. With a flick of a switch he turned on a purple projector. Broadcasting the floor plans in the most clear layout possible.

SHIP LAYOUT:

"So, goin over it all one more time while there's still time. Now I'm not lockin this thing down till my homebrew alarm system goes off in the hold. Right at the bottom ere... Looks like these outlaws work in a gang no larger than six, though likely a little slimmer on that side. Can't expect help from the guards, they've been bypassed before. I'd expect atleast two to come all the way down here while atleast one other group monitors the situation from an upper deck. We'll search nice and thorough like. If we can find somone, and keep em with us long enough to sing? That could let us smoothly advance through them all. Floor by floor, till everyone's apprehended. Take too long, around... A half hour I'd think. And I bet they'll find some unaccountable way out all their own."

"Move on without catchin everyone, and we'll get em quickly enough alright. Or they'll get us with a knife in the back after surrounding our overaggressive positioned flank. Oh yeah, I'm holding the, doodad that opens all the locks. They figure that out and this place opens like a snitches lips. Our greatest threat is suprise, stay on your toes and think ahead whenever you spy somthin a little too trustworthy." The Lupin was down to converse with the precious few minutes of peace remaining before this adventure heated up and was sure not to cool off for a long while. He chewed some white gum and wasn't too noisy about it.