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[personal profile] vengefulamethystrose
So I and the gang have been planning for a little while. Y'know, we're only just starting out. I mean, a few people have heard of us but overall we're kind of nobodies. And that might be fine for some of the mooks and idiots who follow me, but I want to be known. I want the people I rob to know who robbed 'em, and why. So we chose an unusual target, to help us make our entrance.

Bigelow Advertising was the right kind of place. Big, but not too big. They didn't really have their own security, just a couple of idiots who thought they were hot shit. And they were a growing company, so they already had lots of people's attention. And I'd seen their social media shit. It was good, and we needed good.

After all, a woman's best weapon is fear.

I stormed into the first floor of the office building, the group in tow. I sauntered up to the desk and asked which floor the advertising agency was on. I tell two of my guys to take the stairs so that we're covered there. I have two of my women go up first to make sure we don't have any unexpected surprises. I post my last woman, Felicia, at the front door. Since she's the only one who isn't a total idiot, I'm trusting her to handle it when the cops show up. Then, after a few minutes, I get in an elevator and ride it up to the sixth floor. I open the door, pull out my gun and point it at the handful of people in the office. "Nobody move." I said calmly.
Date: 2016-01-28 12:39 am (UTC)

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From: [personal profile] casey_papillon
The local news eats it up. It's on the front page of at least two newspapers the next day, and the increase in Bigelow's traffic--web and foot--is enough that they need new security and can manage to afford it.

I know that the new security wouldn't actually stop Eva Blue and company, but honestly, there's very little that would unless we gave the guards machine guns.

That, "and company," grew one smaller. Apparently our guards had managed to do something, though they'd died. That's four dead, two more injured. Ours get their names circulated hardly at at, and when they do they're quick as a breath. More often it's just one dead or two dead, depending on who they feel like counting.

I force my smile for the networks, and I let it look forced. My eyes get bright, too. I cry exactly once, the first interview, before Julio is even out of the hospital, when we're still not sure if Cathy will make it. That clip gets a lot of airtime. It shouldn't surprise me.

Eva gets called "crazed" and "psychotic" more than I would like, and, despite my best judgment, I read and listen to the responses that non-journalists have. Some of them say that if someone should have died, it should have been Julio, for masked or baldly racist reasons.

I crack my knuckles. The posts are up, and I might as well use them. Time for some spin.

I mention Cynthia's name, Cathy's name, Julio's name, and find the dead guy's name--Pyetro. I resolutely avoid writing or saying Eva Blue's name in anything recorded. She shouldn't be the point. She will be, anyway, but I don't have to help.

Me

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Evangeline Sinclair

January 2016

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