#heist plot

It seems like the blink of an eye before you’re slipping out the door, Eridan leading just ahead of you. It is a common sight for you to be looking at your datapad while you shadow him, but this time you’re just watching for any last second messages from Hal warning that you’re about to cross paths with crew.

TA: ok ii 2hould probably go delete my iinternet hii2tory. iim behiind liike twelve proxiie2 but you know ju2t iin ca2e.

You can’t help the crazed smile on your face - you try to stifle it. It strikes you all at once how wild this is - this is the most intensely terrifying thing you’ve done since you tried to walk to the public bookhive alone at age 3. Your criminal profile is jumping up from one count of a near-missed curfew to felony theft of military property, conspiracy to commit theft, desertion, conspiracy to commit desertion, accessory to at least one murder, treason, failure to report traitorous discourse, and the worst of all of this evening’s crimes, elopement. 

Yes, you will be a hardened criminal by the time you leave here.

As you predicted, the guard assigned to the helmsblock abandoned his post a solid five minutes before shift change, which makes it all the more simple for you and Eridan to slip into the block with his credentials. 

You’ve been in here often enough with Eridan that this should seem familiar, but looking at the block with the context of having to disassemble most of it to free its captor makes everything seem foreign. From where he’s suspended in the center of the room, Sollux’s head moves almost imperceptibly when the door slides closed.

"Oh, hey guys. Have I mentioned I don't like this plan and we don’t have to do it?”

The plasma saw is active in your hand before you can remember getting it out of your bag.

Hades: Hades pulled his eyebrows together? "You got /shot/?" He breathed. How on earth was he meant to watch after these gods; they were gonna send him to an early grave. "He texted me while I was-- indisposed... Erebus wasn't there and he needed backup and... I think things didn't go according to plan. Grab some clothes, he may need our help."

Phobos: "Who was that who pushed your mother out of the way?" he was asked suddenly, his head still catching up to the drugs in his system. Lifting his chin to better see the face to the voice-- he spit blood forward. Splattering it in a surprise to the man who threw a decent punch to his ribs. Phobos grunted in annoyance, his cold self surfacing in training. Anger creased his brow in defiance to what he was hearing-- and offered them nothing. But //how// did they know she was his mother?

Deimos: "Jesus fucking Christ," Deimos felt his blood boil as Hades spoke. It was bad enough Phobos told him to stay back through all this, knowing fairly well that Deimos would be worrying the entire time, but of /course/ his phone would break and everyone in New York City would be too drunk at ma's party to realize that his brother was in trouble. He paced around the apartment gathering his things, pulling on a shirt and checking his gun. "You know where he is?"

Hades: "The," his mind raced threw the details of the heist, "the harbor. That's where it went down." Hades shook his head. "He came to me so excited, even if I'd said no... he would have done it. I just let him and then I wasn't there when he needed me..." he trailed off angrily. Maybe Aphrodite was right-- maybe he /was/ as bad for the twins as she'd suggested. Turning back, hazel eyes made sure to find Deimos'. "We're gonna find him, and we're gonna bring him back."

Phobos: Another punch collided with his side, and another the longer he simply stared out and refused to talk. His wrists ached from the strain under biting metal, but Phobos didn't mind the pain. It was an intricate part of his life-- fear so delicate to fester in his mind. These men were over their heads-- //not// as trained as he might have expected them to be meaning they weren't //who// he thought they were. They told him more than they probably should have, Phobos realizing with more clarity that he had been right on the hit on his ma, but more pointedly that his brother managed to keep her safe in the throw of her 'important' party gave his ego a pleasant boost.

Deimos: "Stubborn ass," he mumbled, fighting away ridiculous images of Phobos lying dead somewhere on the docks while Deimos attended some dumbass fucking party. He should have /been/ there, fighting right next to him, protecting him like they always did. Throwing more things into his duffle bag and flinging it over his good shoulder, Deimos walked back towards Hades, ready to go. "He had a shitty feeling about ma because of all this. It should have been our sign that shit was fucked up. We got greedy. All of us. I'm not ready to lose him again,"

Hades: "Got an extra sidearm in there?" He questioned, nodding to the duffle bag. Hades very rarely was put in situations where he'd have to use a gun, however-- he was far from useless. Just because he sat behind a desk most of the time, did /not/ mean he was useless. After all, what kind of example would that set for his right hand men? No, Hades was pissed off and on a mission. "He can take care of himself until we get there." Hades offered, though it was in more of a hopeful tone than a reassured one.

Deimos: "All my guns are in the truck, keep it by the garage by the subway off the island..." Deimos stepped outside and pulled his door shut with dramatic force, his veins still fuming at the endless situations that they all managed to find themselves in. Not a life went by where he couldn't just drink some beer and relax...it was always quite the opposite. "We should drive the truck down there, I got extra plates in case we get spotted. We'll probably need a getaway vehicle anyway,"

Phobos: They weren't Hades men-- he'd know. He'd think his uncle would give him the courtesy of telling Erebus or himself that he wanted his ma dead, not that he suspected that. They could all fight over Deimos and himself for eternity, Phobos only ever cared about his brother and that //wasn't// new news. But he did care profoundly for his family's safety. Was this a trap then? Hades had to of gotten the messages, if they were coming to the docks were they to know his and his brother's face now? Would they relay that information to the person puppeteering with information he should not have?

Phobos: He was released from the ceiling, his shins colliding to the concrete-- bruises and sharp pain blossoming under the minor assault. "Giving up already?" he asked still sluggish, grinning a bloody smile as three men circled around him.