Of Parasols and Ice Cream

Twirling a parasol , a silent woman steps in time with carnival organ music, giving a playful skip here and there as the song flares in certain spots. Seemingly ignorant of the scene around her. Thugs in clown garb and makeup laughing menacingly as they loot and pillage a weapon shop in Evergreen Basin.

The woman bounds up to the bound and polka dot handkerchief gagged owner and an employee. She plants her parasol point down in the ground before her and smirks as a cat with the cream would at the two. She holds out a card and flicks it into a white board that floats in mid air beside her. A couple of goons turn from their ransacking to give a polite clap to which she gives a curt bow before waving them back to their work. She reaches down her blouse and pulls out a lipstick, flicks her hand once more and it becomes a marker. She then gracefully and in perhaps comically cute cursive writes; [ The codes for your safe, please~]

One of the two shakes their head no imploringly.

She touches her cheek in thought before typing up on her scroll with a faint tinge of pink on her mischief laden face.