2010 12 01 Superlame Stakeout

Log Title:
Superlame Stakeout

Cloak and Dagger

IC Date:
1 DEC 2010

Midtown, New York

Brief log summary::
Cloak and Dagger stakeout a potential robbery. Banter ensues.


There is no TS in this log::

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"I'm starting to think this tip might have been… unreliable." From the rooftop of the Daily Bugle, Cloak peers across the street. Immune to the cold, he stands with one leg up, foot resting on the waist-high railing. In his hands are a large pair of beaten-up binoculars, with which he stares relentlessly at the building across the street. The wind blows his only real garment all over the place, revealing his darkness-enshrouded silhouette. "We need new snitches."

Dagger's perched on the railing as well, sitting properly on it with her feet hooked into the railing at two different heights to ensure she doesn't slip and fall. Her hands rest on the railing and she leans forward, squinting across the street as if that might somehow help. It doesn't. "Really? I thought this guy seemed pretty reliable," she replies, slanting a look his way. "Though it kinda doesn't help that you're so hard on them."

"I only broke two fingers…" A somewhat sinister smile slowly spreads across Cloak's face, obscured partly by the enormous binoculars. He brings the binoculars down, giving his eyes a chance to relax as he squints. "I doubt he would have told us anything if I had asked nicely… But then again, here we are on a rooftop with no crime to thwart." He sighs and puts the binoculars within the folds of his cloak. "He must have been lying, or maybe he tipped his buddies off that we were coming. Douche." Across the street, the upscale jewelry store appears to be in no imminent danger of being robbed.

"Uh huh. And the guy before that, you split his lip and broke his nose. I mean, it's better than threatening to eat them, but still." Her tone is chastising and somewhat maternal, paired with a stern wag of a finger. "You have to be nicer to them. Honey instead of vinegar and all that." Dagger gives up looking across the street and winds up unfolding herself, flipping around on the railing to better face him. Her faint smile shades to curiosity as she wonders, "How much longer should we wait?"

"I don't know. He said 8:15, and it's already after nine. I vote we bail, and go see if we can find somebody dumb enough to snatch a purse in front of us." Cloak takes a step back from the edge of the building. The front of his cloak moves, as though he is folding his arms. But, like always, it's impossible to tell for sure what's going on inside that darkness. "Technically it's your turn to have an idea, the last three have been mine." He casts a sidelong glance at his partner, with a slight shadowy smile. Despite the smile on his face, the cold, unnatural voice always makes his tone seem harsh.

"Har har. You never like my ideas, that's why we wind up doing yours." Dagger glances over her shoulder at the building in question, then askance at her partner in crime-thwarting with a rolled shoulder. It's a helpless gesture, just a bit resigned. There's a heaved sigh as she makes a lament she's made more than a few times in the past: "I just want to do something /fun/ for a change. That's all."

"Beating people up /is/ fun. Especially when they cry." It's usually difficult to tell when Cloak is joking, but this time, it's clear that he isn't. However, he seems unusually eager to please tonight. Taking one long 'step' forward, he pulls himself up onto the railing. Somehow, he seems less menacing when he's sitting. As opposed to lurking. "Whatever though. It looks like New York can probably take care of herself tonight. We can go do something… different."

"Speak for yourself," Dagger replies with a wrinkling of her nose. She leans back, back, baaaaack, until she's almost upside-down on the railing and she's looking at the building opposite again. She dangles like that for a moment in silence until he speaks again and then she pops right back up, eyes wide for a moment. "Really?" Then they narrow, suddenly suspicious. "You're not just saying that, are you? You'd better not be saying that just so you can be up to shenanigans or something."

"Heh. I haven't lied to you all week, have I?" Cloak doesn't seem even remotely concerned when Dagger hangs from the building. But it's not like he couldn't easily grab her before she hit the pavement if she were to fall. He does, however, watch her feet pretty carefully, even if it's out of the corner of his eye. "Plus, maybe while you're doing whatever it is you want to do, I could hop out and do a little mini-patrol." He says it very cavalierly, almost too cavalierly.

"Uh huh." She eyes him askance, lips pursed a bit. Her feet are, as always, perfectly secure in their hold; she's as stable as stable can be, regardless of how quickly she moves and with the precariousness of her situation. "You know, when I said 'I' want to do something fun, that /does/ include you, too. Or have you seriously forgotten what fun's all about?" She pouts just a little and hunkers forward, shoulders lifting and back arching out in the process.

"Fine… what did you have in mind?" Even though half of his face is covered by his hood, and the other half is mostly distorted by shadow, it's still perfectly clear that Cloak is convinced that whatever suggestion Dagger makes is going to be lame. He turns his head over his shoulder, peeking at the jewelry store as if he wished alarm bells would suddenly start clanging from within. They don't.

She knows that look /and/ that tone. Dagger's initially burgeoning smile winds up withering into a full on pout and a heaved sigh. "Oh, stop. You have /that/ look on your face." She unhooks her feet and pulls herself up on the railing properly, balancing for a moment before flipping off of it and onto the rooftop proper. She twirls in place, if half-heartedly, and stops with one hand pointing at him. "And /that/ look says 'we're going to wind up fighting bad guys until the wee hours'."

"Fair enough." With a sudden flutter of his namesake garment, and a sudden whoosh of cold air from beneath him, Cloak is standing on the railing next to his partner-in-crimefighting. He doesn't appear to be in any more danger of falling than Dagger is, though he isn't confident enough in his balance to try any crazy flippy/twirly antics. "We'll go check out the red light district, maybe let you walk down a couple of dark alleys as bait." He takes a step closer, and with an exaggerated sweeping motion folds a large section of the cloak over her. "Just remember it was your idea." And with that, the two disappear.

And almost as soon as the telltale Darkforce smoke clears, the alarms ring from the upscale jewelry store across the street.

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