“yeah, a wanted felon is definitely the place i start looking for help. or maybe it was the shootout, who knows.” it was probably when she stabbed a cop with the heel of her shoe. a light exhale of breath, akin to a laugh but with less enthusiasm. not that monica really minded; it was a change from the life she’d had before but still close enough that she felt comfortable.
crime was in her blood, she didn’t know how to do anything else other than take her clothes off. jason had saved her from that life, and she wasn’t about to drift back to it. so this was what she chose, being in a place with people she didn’t know, didn’t trust, doing jobs that could easily end in death. a bit reckless? of course. but it was better than rotting away in some atlanta prison waiting for a court date, waiting for an appeal, being offered plea deals and being harassed by other inmates. the publicity didn’t bother her, seeing her face plastered on the television barely affected her, but it was when they inevitably dragged jason into it. her story was never without mention of him, and that she could do without.
“smart and strong, look at you.” another small laugh, more genuine this time, eyes focused on the sharp features of the man across the table. “it’ll be nice not to have something giving me tinnitus every time we break a vault. the drills we used to use were archaic.” though there’s a giggle at the exaggeration, a genuine smile, something she hadn’t done in…
… when was the last time she smiled?
“i don’t have any specialties.” which wasn’t a lie; she didn’t have a single thing she excelled in, nothing to brag about like she was sure the rest of the oncoming crew did. what was she, exactly? “a pretty face and a good shot. i can hotwire cars and i’m good at manipulating people. pretty good at playing the victim, too – i get used for bait a lot.” sounding almost bored with the lackluster description, but she didn’t have to prove anything to anyone, she wasn’t here to impress. solely here for the job, and the cash that came afterward. at this point, how she acquired it was buried at the bottom of her concerns. “do you know how many people are supposed to show up?”
There was an attempt at modesty in the casual shrug, purse of lips and lift of his brows, though any one that knew him well also knew that modesty wasn’t exactly at the top of his list of traits. There was a distinct pride in what he did and, often, he didn’t resist speaking about it. Depending on the company, of course. Around the crew he tended to be a little more subdued thanks to them not giving a shit at times, and letting him know it. No sense in continuing then when not all of them were as patient as he tended to be.
“See, those are sounding like specialties to me. Hot wiring cars can come in handy, especially if our driver doesn’t show up.” With Twitch it was difficult to tell sometimes. He had definitely earned the moniker for a reason; first sign of too much trouble and he would get twitchy. Burning the cigarette close to the filter, he snuffed it out against one of the chair’s legs and pocketed the butt rather than flicking it off to the side. Habit, really. Even in places like this where they were supposed to be meeting he tended to keep the amount of his prints to a minimum.
“Mm…I am not knowing. Sometimes is two, sometimes four. Is rare there are solo heists unless is something small, but even then Bain is preferring if we are taking a partner with us. There are plenty to choose from and many more to come, I am thinking.” Dropping the legs of the chair down with a solid clack of wood to concrete, he leaned forward, resting his forearms against the table and laced his fingers together. A brief glance to the watch around his wrists allowed him to check the time and judge how long he had been sitting there.
“Should not be much time now. While they are not early like we are being, they are punctual. Very rarely late, if ever.” Restless, he shifted his weight, unlaced his fingers and loosely folded his arms in front of him to lean against. Since they had some time before the crew would arrive, he decided to take this moment to get to know her a bit, curious as to whether or not she would be as closed-lipped as most of the others.
“How long you are doing this? You look, well…young.” Not that he has room to talk. Out of everyone in the crew, he was the youngest.
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