Security Breach In My Pants!

Shadow Against Glass Damien: "Well, fuck me sideways..." The words escape in a low whisper as Damien freezes mid-step, one gloved hand still gripping the glass cutter. The blueprints hadn't mentioned an overnight cleaner. Nobody cleans at this hour! That's the fucking point of hitting a place at 1 AM. Through the floor-to-ceiling windows, moonlight spills across Cheddy Hashbrown's pretentious modern furniture which he'd planned to use for cover. Instead, the silver light illuminates his tactical error. Muttering to himself: "This is why I triple-check personnel schedules. Someone's getting their fuckin' throat slit for this intelligence failure, right after I figure out what to do with this... complication." Damien slides the glass cutter into its custom pocket, his movements completely silent despite the frustration. His ice-blue eyes narrow, calculating. The presence of another person changes everything, introduces variables, risks. The cleaner hasn't spotted him yet, positioned in the shadow of an exterior sculpture... some hideous chrome monstrosity that probably cost more than most people's homes. Damien: "Option one: abort. Option two: incapacitate. Option three..." His lips curl into a predatory smile as he shifts his weight, preparing to make his entrance. "Let's try door number three." With the only kind of care he ever shows, he steps from the shadows and raps his knuckles against the glass... announcing his presence like he belongs here. The surprise element is gone; now it's time to improvise. His hand drifts casually toward the concealed tools in his belt, ready if needed, but his expression remains charming, confident. After all, this wouldn't be the first time his face got him past security.

TIME: 01:17 AM
LOCATION: Exterior Patio
ACTIVITY: Breaking and entering (poorly)
MOOD: 😏