12 Hours

Discussion in 'THREAD ARCHIVES' started by Cosmic Penguin, Dec 30, 2014.

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  1. 5:30 PM

    Tori waited, crouched under the low branches of the willow tree that everyone had agreed to meet at. The tree was apart of the town's forest park, but it was also ten feet way from Cordelia Hilliard's house. The junior, was wearing a black turtleneck, black sweat pants and mostly black sneakers. It was pretty dark out and the town didn't have that many lamp lights, but she didn't want to risk being spotted. She had also brought a pair of binoculars with her so she could watch the area around the house and make sure no one was around. Unfortunately the binocular was a shitty one from Target, so it didn't have that far of a range for her to see into the house's windows, but either way, Ms. Hilliard was supposed to be out with her nephew, so it didn't matter.
    Shifting a little, so she could lean her back against the tree, Tori waited for the others to arrive.

    #1 Cosmic Penguin, Dec 30, 2014
    Last edited: Jan 1, 2015
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  2. 5:34 PM - Fashionably late, per the norm.

    But this wasn't that normal of a meeting. It should have been something he wanted to take seriously, but not only did he show up four minuets late, he managed to shop-lift from a convenience store on the way. Not only that, but he wore a ridiculous bright white t-shirt. He wore that shirt under a black hoodie, thankfully, so that way Little-Miss-Trouble wouldn't rip his nuts off. Along with his black hoodie, he had a black pair of pants and black converse... with the white laces still intact. Well, that's one reason why she might still find a way to castrate him. Along with his almost black attire, he wore a black back-pack and two watches on his left hand. One showed how late he was to the party-- the normal time, and one wasn't entirely synchronized; 00:00. This would be a countdown to how long he had until the old bitch would come home. He planned on getting all he could before time was up.

    As the man in black walked leisurely towards the women, he made it seem a little casual. He waved at her, with his left hand of watches, and shoved his other hand in his pocket. Out of his pocket, he pulled out about four miscellaneous candy bars, ready to share. He only did that to lessen the chance that she would, you guessed it, demolish he genitals. It wasn't long until he was under the tree, and he had shoved a candy bar into his mouth. It was a Heath bar, and a really good one, at that. At least ninety percent of the candy he stole were Heath bars, and he offered one of the many he had to the girl.

    "You look suspicious." The man commented, between mouthfuls of toffee and chocolate. "Almost like you're about to rob and ransack a nice old lady's house." He winked at her, with right hazel eyes, and tossed the rapper on the ground. He took his hands and stripped himself of his bag and placed it on the ground. He made himself a home near the Willow tree, sitting down and gently pawing at a stray branch that dangled in front of him. He produced a pair of black circular glasses from hos backpack-- also stolen, mind you. He placed them over his eyes, and rolled up the sleeves to his jacket.

    "So," He was the first to start the conversation. "We're going to use code-names." He decided for her. "Instead of Archibald, it's Foxtrot. You can be Hotel, if you so desired. Or Whisky."

    His name was Archibald Huin-Zong, but mostly known as Archie-- but now, as 'Foxtrot'. He beheld no criminal record, nor did he have a reason for this event to take place. He didn't need wealth, or material things.

    He just wanted an expensive thrill.
    #2 Dip, Dec 30, 2014
    Last edited: Dec 31, 2014
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  3. C.R

    She ran a hand through her white-blonde hair, as she walked down the sidewalk in a fast paced and a little antsy manner. Out of all the stupid things she'd done this wasn't one of them. She'd never pulled off a robbery on this grand a scale. Yeah, she'd stolen gum from that one gas station run by those supposed ex-suicide bombers (not that being a ex-suicide bomber made any sense, it was just how her and her friends usually referred to them) that barely spoke English. This was different. Way. Different.

    She tried her best to swallow the emotions. It was fail proof. How would they get in trouble. It was in and out. Celeste comforted herself by tugging on her shirt.
    Her outfit was dark, not enough to be suspicious or particularly remembered but still. Dark. It wasn't a hard search in her closet to find the clothes either. It was something she'd usually wear. Except for one thing, the contents in her bag.

    Her bag consisted of things a normal tern would have. A normal teen named Jada Wilson anyways. She had a fake I.D, Drivers Liscence and she'd put in a make-up bag with Jadaaaa written on it in black sharpie. If anything happened to her bag she wanted the police to be searching for Jada. Not her.

    Jada happened to be someone who looked remarkably like her that worked at the Starbucks near her house.

    "I hear something about code names?" She asked, walking to the two already there. She was now not nervous so much as excited. She couldn't tell, but she could sure go out and have a shopping spree after she let the money sit. She'd have it around her birthday so her burst of money made sense.

    #3 Brøken_Serenity, Dec 30, 2014
    Last edited: Dec 30, 2014
  4. Vince, aqua

    Vince stared at his hands as he walked through the park, a contemplative look on his face. Even in the dark the pale appendages seemed very faintly luminescent. These were hands that created, he thought, not hands that broke into houses.

    Not hands that stole.

    He shrugged. Still, how was he supposed to achieve the first without first undertaking the second? The old lady wasn't at home, and there was little chance of them being caught. If everything went the way he expected, he'd be home in bed by the time the alarm was raised, alibi prepared and enough pilfered items to get him out of the town.

    "Just so long as everything goes as planned," he muttered to himself.

    As he saw the already assembled group of his fellow teens, Vince frowned. They had said 5.45, hadn't they? He thought he'd been organised arriving five minutes early, but it seemed like he was the last to arrive. It also seemed he'd missed the memo on the dress code: although his jeans and trainers were dark, his faded long sleeved shirt was a light grey.

    Still, he thought, it's not like anyone was going to see them. Just so long as they stuck too the plan.

    "Code names, huh?" He called out softly as he approached the group. "Hmm, I've always wanted a code name... Fluffy? Munchkin?" The sarcasm in his voice was very faint. "No, if we're going with what you've started, Foxtrot, I'll be... Tango." Vince was clearly satisfied with his choice.

    "By the way - you know I could hear you from like, twenty metres away? You might want to keep your voice down when we're, y'know, breaking the law."
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  5. 5:55 PM

    Tori rolled her eyes at her 'partners in crime' and repressed an irritated sigh. Honestly this was not what she envisioned when she first came up with the plan. In her mind she had imagined a better...less colorful band of people. But, beggars can't be choosers, literally. And even though various quirks that the others brought with them, annoyed the hell out of her, Tori went with it because after this she would never have to see them again, as was there agreement. So naturally, she waved off Archibald's chocolate, and tried to ignore his bright white shoe laces and Celeste's idiotic get up. For Christ's sake did they not retain common sense?

    'Get in, get out, part ways.'

    She only really had to be around them for a few hours, so no point in going off on them now. She grimaced at the code names but nodded with a resigned look on her face. "Vince is right, you're both loud, so shut up. If you guys blow it for me...," She stopped then and simply glowered at her sneakers before saying, "Anyway. I'll take the code name, Hotel. Celeste, pick a name quick, we're heading to the back entrance in five minutes. Everyone remember what to do?" She muttered, getting up from her crouching position. Adrenaline was slowly starting to trickle into her veins, she was getting excited at the prospect of finally getting what she deserved.
  6. C.R

    "Um, Relic. Sounds badass enough." Celeste shrugged, it was the first thing that came to mind honestly. She wouldn't be sorry to never have to talk to 'Hotel' again. Under different circumstances Celeste would of liked her. But now she really wasn't in any sort of mood to be judged. If she wasn't about to pull off a robbery with her she'd of thrown something at her and screamed random profanities but she felt better.

    Vince or 'McFluffyKins' or 'Tango' or whoever was someone she'd be absolutely fine parting ways with as well. She reached for her back pocket instinctively, she pretended to be deep in a text when she was annoyed and wanted to stop talking. But then she quickly retracted it. It wasn't time for her pettiness or childlike behaviour. She had to atleast be mostly serious.

    "Yes, I remember." She said, telling the truth.​
  7. Archie nodded at the choices of nicknames, but was taken aback by relic. That was phonetic, was it? Well, whatever it was, it was alright by Foxtrot. He grabbed his backpack, and pulled it over his shoulders. He managed to zip up his hoodie and seem a little less dense about the situation he placed himself in. The white shirt was out of sight and out of mind. As he did away with his shirt, he reached into his pocket and pulled out another candy bar. He opened it, and shoved it in his mouth as he bent down and tied his shoes tightly. You never knew when you had to run from trouble. As he shoved the candy down his throat, he made sure to come up with an alibi for the lot of them.

    "We're goth kids, okay?" Archibald said, as he pushed himself up and pulled his long hair into a pony tail. He would have to ask one of the feminine ladies to do him into a braid, so he won't have hair flying all over the place, but they were already on the move. As he tightened his backpack over his shoulders, he walked on with his pack of wayward punks. He wanted to make a joke, maybe lighten the mood, but it couldn't get much lighter than this. As they made their way towards the house, he noticed how large of a scale this break in would be.

    It was beautiful.

    Breathtaking. It was something that would put him in hell for sure.

    As he neared closer to the fence, Archie ran a nervous hand through his pony tail, and smiled wickedly.

    "So, Hotel," He started, twirling around a loose piece of hair. "I'll throw in two pairs of earnings, a necklace and any animals I find into your pile if you braid my hair for me." Archie smiled at her, and winked under his circle lenses. "I like French braided hair. If you can't do that, I'll ask Fluffer-Nutter over there." He motioned towards 'Tango'. He looked in touch with his feminine side, maybe he could work happily with his lovely hair.
    #7 Dip, Dec 31, 2014
    Last edited: Dec 31, 2014
  8. Vince, aqua
    "I know it like the back of my hand," he murmured, once again looking at his long fingers. After a moment he looked up at Tori, a serious look on his face. "No one's blowing anything for anyone, okay? We all know what we're doing." He looked around at the others before flashing his signature easy-going smile, but it seemed a little strained around the edges tonight.

    As the crew moved out of their hiding position, Vince had to hold back a response to Archie. Goth kids? He looked down at his grey tee, then up to the lock of light blonde hair that fell over his eyes. The others might be able to pass for goth, but he'd blow a hole in that cover-up as surely as a rock through a ship's hull.

    And if this ship sinks so soon, we're all going down with it. Vince shook his head as if he could rattle out the grim thoughts. It's simple. We just won't be seen - no need for such a ridiculous cover if that's the case.

    Mr. Foxtrot's further conversation set Vince to rolling his eyes. He walked a little closer to Celeste, who was fortunate enough to not have been pestered by the long haired boy yet. He kept his voice low, ensuring Archie would not hear. "Hopefully he's not as talkative once we're inside the house, huh? We'll have the whole neighbourhood flocking over within a couple minutes if this keeps up."
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  9. C.R

    She gave a little smirk, entirely agreeing with what he was saying. "Then he'd entertain the neighbourhood with the exciting tales of the five teens breaking and entering and even invite over the cops while he was at it." She added, matching her tone and volume with Vincent's. "Probably just nerves. Or already high on excitement." She shrugged, her tone and volume still low. He seemed rather jittery to Celeste at least.

    She'd assume nervous because of his topic of conversation and who he was aiming it to. Asking Tori to braid his hair then next Vincent, it wasn't well thought through if he'd actually wanted someone to braid his hair. They seemed the least likely in the group to indulge him in that or anything for that matter.

    "Oh God, I can see him leaving one of those candy wrappers somewhere." Celeste muttered under her breath. She'd honestly meant to think it and not say it. But it was already out there. How many of those does he have anyways? Like, twenty-two?

    She could see herself liking Foxtrot or Archie better in a more casual less If-You-Attract-Attention-None-Of-Us-Will-See-Daylight-For-A-While way. He was interesting and a little amusing- just with seemingly no conception of the mood.​
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  10. 6:00 PM

    Tori didn't even grace Archibald with an answer. There was no way in hell that she was going to touch his hair. And if she ever did, it would be to yank his stupid head back--Calm. Stay calm. Tori thought to herself, breathing in slowly and out even slower. They were about to enter the house and she didn't need to start screwing up because of her attitude.

    The garden entrance was a window that Ms. Hilliard always kept slightly open with a little paper weight. The other day, Tori has snuck onto the property and checked to see if the woman had locked the windows, but she hadn't. If Tori were any other sensible and caring person she would give the old crone a stern talking to about safety and security. But she wasn't and Ms. Hilliard's trusting nature, greatly benefited her.

    Tori slid her hands gently under the window and pushed upwards slowly just in case the thing was old and started creaking. It did just a little bit, and Tori grimaced as she continued to push it up. When it was at a good height were everyone would be able to get in, Tori placed the paper weight on the ground and climbed in. The hallway was dark and a few glances up and down the hall, convinced Tori that Hilliard hadn't gotten any guard dogs in the past week. "Coast is clear, come in." Tori whispered and backed away from the window so everyone could get in.

    There was a staircase, at the end of the hallway and on two short pillars on either side of the staircase was a glass figurine of a dancing woman. It looked extremely valuable, but Tori wasn't about to take a chance with something so easily breakable. So instead, Tori headed to the kitchen, past the staircase, where there was bound to be some authentic silverware.
  11. As soon as Hotel snuck into the house, Archie decided that if there was any time time to zip his lip, it was now. He was one of the last people to climb into the house, and he took the last few moments to make sure no one was watching. Out of his pocket, he produced a black handkerchief, and headed into the house. He opened the window a little more for the exit, so that everyone with large loads wouldn't risk dropping them or damaging foreign property. He also took a moment to synchronize one of his watches, setting it for 02:55. He wanted to get as much as possible.

    Almost as soon as they got in, they all seemed to go off to do their own thing, so Archibald did the same. He looked around, inspecting for any cameras. He assumed there wasn't any to be aware of, but you are only as safe as you come. He tied the handkerchief around his head, under his pony tail and over his nose. As soon as his face was nearly completely covered, he stripped himself of the backpack and carried it in his left hand. Archie turned the corner, and found himself in the living room. He looked quickly, not taking account for the paintings or figurines. What he did see is a door, one that he assumed led to the cellar. He smiled under the cloth, and headed for the door.

    As he opened it, no sound was produced. He closed the door, and stepped into the basement.
  12. Vince, aqua
    Vince chuckled at Celeste's response, a low, throaty sound. He had never really hung out with her at school, but the fact that she could keep up a sense of humour in this situation - without going over the top like Archie - put her pretty high in his books. "So long as he doesn't knock anything over with that nervous excitement."

    As they drew near the house, Vince moved forwards, deciding that at this point even quiet conversation was a risk they didn't need to take. The window was open, just like Tori had said. It was good to see that the break-in was moving forwards just like they had planned. If the rest of the process went as smoothly... He wrapped his knuckles on the windowsill as he climbed into the house. Touch wood.

    Being the second one into the house, Vince just saw Tori's back as she disappeared through a door. He followed her path, tracing his fingers over the glass figurine as he walked past. It was certainly beautiful. And expensive? No doubt. But he hesitated as he was about to pick it up.

    "Fuck." The curse was little more than an exhalation. He knew he'd forgotten something. Bubblewrap - he'd had it sitting on his bed, ready to go in his bag to protect objects exactly like this one. But without such protection, there was too much of a risk. If they had to make a fast exit, no doubt it would shatter in his bag.

    The boy shrugged. No point moaning about it now; better to move on and see what else he could find. He split ways with Tori as she entered the kitchen. Instead, he started tiptoeing up the stairs, treading carefully on each step to avoid creaks. Even then, a couple of low groans came from the old wood. There'd be jewellery upstairs - real money. And he wanted first choice of it.
  13. C.R

    She suddenly thought a bit better of Vince. His humour was nice, Celeste loved to laugh. His laugh was interesting, unique. Platonically speaking, Celeste liked him a lot more than the utter disdain of a few minutes ago. She followed directly after him, getting in the house third. She watched all the clamor over the glass figure. Celeste wasn't interested.

    What Celeste wanted was simple. She was getting the antique's. Things that would sell. She didn't want to keep a single thing other than the cash. He trotted upstairs after Vince but parted and headed off in a different direction. She went in the bathroom first. She was an old lady, she had plenty of decorative porcelain treasures in there which she put in her bag.

    These look relatively old and valuable. Definitely getting these... I'll go to the jewelry last.
  14. 6:30 PM

    Tori picked through the silverware in the kitchen drawers, sliding the prettiest most intricately designed ones into her backpack. She quickly vacated the kitchen and headed to the sitting room, where there were foreign masks hanging on the wall. Tori knew a few fake people who would jump at the chance to obtain one of these things, just so they could say that they were open minded, humble and worldly. "Superficial fucks." She muttered under her breath and reached for a mask with diamonds around the eye holes. Suddenly a crash sounded from upstairs and Tori whirled around, her heart racing as she dashed over to and up the staircase.


    Cordelia Hilliard was terribly upset that her nephew had had to cancel their evening plans, but she understood his reasons. He was a first time father and when your children fall ill for the first time, you want to be there to support them. Cordelia was happy that Daniel was such a good father and valued family above all else. He was one of the only relatives who came to visit her, even though she was so old and practically a relic. The other relatives didn't have any patience for her and had stopped visiting years ago. Now, Cordelia was only visited by Daniel and her great grand daughter, Milly.

    "Ah, well, no point in moping." Cordelia murmured to herself as she bustled around her room. She thought that because she hadn't gone out that she should rearrange her prized ballerina figurine collection. "Oh!" Cordelia gasped when she saw that one figurine was a bit dusty. "Let's get you cleaned up, hm?" She murmured to it and headed to bathroom down the hall. The old woman let out a startled scream when she saw a figure in the hallway. It was a bit dark, but Cordelia's eyes were strong enough to see that the figure was much too skinny to be Daniel, and a pang of alarm coursed through her. The woman stumbled backwards and rushed into the nearest bathroom. She didn't realize that the door was already open and let out an even louder scream when she saw a girl she didn't recognize.

    "Who are you?" She cried out, backing out of the bathroom and cowering against the wall of the hallway. "Get out of my house this instant or I'll call the authorities!" She shrieked.
  15. C.R

    Celeste shrieked, dropping something she had in her hand. It shattered all over the floor and Celeste had no idea what to do. She wanted to call for someone the first letter she shrieked was a T for Tori considering she'd made the plan. But then she realized that they were using code names. Saying her name would compromise them.

    She ran out the room, bumping into the woman as she headed where she remembered Vince going. He seemed smart, Celeste was admittedly a C-average idiot. She spotted him and grabbed his wrist. "She's here! She's here! The old lady is here! I thought Hotel checked about that and said she'd be gone!" She told him in a rambled slur. But she figured the screaming may of set him off first.

    She felt a pinprick, one of the hunks of porcelain had scraped her leg and ripped her jeans. The gash wasn't hospital worthy but Celeste knew it most likely wasn't good either. But the masochistic side of her liked the slight pain so she left it alone.

    She was obviously panicked, her face was flushed red and her breathing was fast. She was already beginning to unravel. Something she didn't like to show to other people.​
  16. Archibald managed down the steps and found what he was looking for: storage. Boxes over boxes of old family picture albums and Christmas decoration. Archie smiled, and walked near the towers of boxes and looked over them quickly. Sharpie covered the likes of them neatly, but that wasn't what he was down there for. It wasn't until he saw a large, silver box at the end of the basement that he was truly interested. He smiled, laughing silently to himself, and neared closer towards the safe.

    It had a classic key pad that could prove a hassle to crack, but he would manage with what little be brought in his bag of tricks. He placed his bag on the floor, and produced a torch, about the length of a child's arm. He made sure his handkerchief was tight, and he lit the torch highly, spinning the knob on the side to it's complete capacity. He put the yellow flame on the keypad, letting the flames dance on the plastic until the circuits were fried. The machine beeped loudly for a few seconds, before chiming. It stank of plastic and fire in the aftermath, but he got what he wanted. The door, after a swift knock with the butt of his tank, swung open freely.

    Archie rung his hands together with anticipation as he turned the knob off. He then opened the door the rest of the way and looked inside. Archie saw stuff that most people would keep in a safe; deeds to the house, birth certificates, the works. After he moved those aside, he found a small sack that seemed to be of some importance. Curiously, he opened it, and instantly smiled triumphantly. He ripped off the mask, and chuckled. It was full of gold coins, silver pieces and old bills. He shoved that into his backpack, and closed the safe once more. He could easily pawn those off and make a pretty penny!

    Archie was going to rummage through the other boxes, but he heard a loud scream from upstairs. Plenty of them, actually. One from an unknown voice, the other from Relic.

    Oh. Fuck.

    Archie knew that this was it. He sighed, looked about the room frantically. He hummed to himself as he ran a hand through his hair. This was the end of the road. He didn't have to go upstairs to know why they yelled. He groaned, and paced the room. He could flee-- the old bitch didn't know he was here. But the others did. He could run and get caught later, or stay and get caught sooner. Archie zipped the backpack, and eyed the cellar window. He could leave simply. He could dart and pawn the rest off to flee the state. Archie's gaze ventured downward, until he noticed an old, dusty golf bag.

    It hadn't been used in a while, but it still looked nice, none the less. It made him almost forget the situation he was placed in. He walked over, and grabbed a driver from out of the bag. He inspected the head, and thought to himself. 'Hell, I might as well go out with a bang.' And so, he thought of a diversion. For when the cops did manage to come, that was. Maybe to even cause a distraction to get away properly. Archibald looked around for something else to work with, and found some stray duct-tape and a handy bundle of Christmas tools-- such as wires and even some ties. He grabbed a few handfuls of that, and shoved it into his backpack.

    Archibald slowly crept up the stairs, and listened in on the upstairs world.
    #16 Dip, Jan 1, 2015
    Last edited: Jan 2, 2015
  17. 6:35 PM
    Hostage Health: 100 Points

    Tori reached the second floor and her eyes widened in absolute horror. At one end of the hall was Celeste screaming and holding on to Vince, and at the other end was the old lady with a look of absolute terror etched onto her face. Tori didn't know what to do, should they run? Should they--
    The tail end of the old lady's words spurred the girl into action and she sprung forward like a mad woman. She darted down the hallway and grabbed the old lady, yanking her towards an open room which may have been where the woman had come from.

    Tori didn't understand! She had checked! She had checked and checked and rechecked and--Oh God! They were screwed! And now what was she doing? She could have ran, but instead she's struggling with this old lady who was stronger than she looked.

    "Help me! Relic! Tango!" Tori paused her mind scrambling because she knew she was forgetting something...err someone. "Foxtrot!" If they were screwed he was going to be screwed too. "Foxtrot!" She yelled again.

    The old woman was crying now and shouting incoherently, as she tried to fight against Tori who was pulling her into the room, but the old crone was putting up a fight and Tori wasn't the strongest person in the world.
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  18. Vince, aqua
    It wasn't fair.

    Vince had barely grabbed anything - a couple of small ornaments, a candlestick which he was pretty sure was solid gold - when all hell broke loose. There was a sudden scream, and the candlestick fell to the floor with a loud thunk. He brain barely had time to register what had happened - shit, she's here, we're fucked, what happened there was a plan weweremeanttosticktotheplan!!! - before Celeste was clutching at his wrist, a panicked look in her eyes and words tumbling out of his mouth faster than he could understand.

    Time seemed to slow down. It was just like performing: a pressure situation that he had to take hold of. First things first, Celeste needed to be calmed. They couldn't do anything with one of them in that state. Vince took hold of her shoulders, trying to stop the shaking and rapid breathing. He spoke slowly and calmly. "Celeste. Listen to me. Calm down. We're going to be fine, okay?" Of course he didn't believe it - hell, he'd be surprised if she did either, but it was the tone of his voice that mattered.

    A shape darted past. Tori. Oh, shit. What was she doing, fighting with a woman who had nearly seen a century? This wasn't going to help! Now they were going to be done for assault as well as breaking and entering! Vince struggled to keep his face calm as Tori cried for help, but he gave Celeste one more reassuring look. "It's going to be fine."

    Next minute he was gone, racing down the hall to help Tori. It was too late to go back now. He was considerably bigger than the two girls, and it was a simple matter to bundle the pair of them into the room. He set her down on the bed none too gently, a animalistic look appearing on his own face now.

    "Look, Miss Hillard, we don't want to hurt you, okay? So if you'd just calm down and just - just stop screaming already!" His voice had grown more savage as he spoke and his eyes were wide as they stared down at the old woman.
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  19. C.R
    "Listen to me. Calm down. We're going to be fine, okay?" Vincent's tone was calm and reassuring. It sunk into Celeste's body, calming her down a bit. The words washed over her mind like a gentle wave. He was right. It was going to be okay. Tori had to have made a back up plan. Besides, Miss Hillard was old. Very, Very old. Maybe she had Alzheimer's, maybe she would forget after a nap. Anything was possible.

    "It's going to be fine." Celeste heard that and her state of panic was temporarily subsided. She went into action after that. It looked like the two had Miss Hillard but just in case Celeste began running downstairs. She was looking for security systems, anything Miss Hillard could discreetly press. When she didn't see anything she ruffled through the drawers. Old ladies knitted and sowed, there had to be some sort of yarn. She found a whole ball of it in a junk drawer.

    She ran back up to the room Vince and Tori were in and handed them the thick yarn.
    "Can you tie her up with this?" Celeste asked. Figuring it'd be easier to get out the situation without having to hold the old hag down.
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  20. Archie soon summed up the courage to walk through the door, and walk he did. He held the club in his left hand, and his bag in his right. His black bandanna was tied loosely around his neck, and his hair was messier than what he had before. He was sweaty and stank of plastic, but atleast he got what he needed. But as time went on, it proved to be in vain. He poked his head through the door, and looked over the corner. His let the bag drop, and he groaned. His hand lifted up the dark glasses he wore, and pitched at the bridge of his nose. "How," He muttered, "in the hell," he picked up his bag, "did we manage to fuck this one up?"

    Archie walked over, and produced a cable from his backpack. He looked at the yarn the other produced, and rolled his eyes. "Oh, perfect! Let's knit her a restraining quilt." He said, with a tone of annoyance. While the other two held the old bat down, he quickly wrapped the cord around her old frame tightly. Albeit, not as tightly as he wanted to, but it was tight enough to keep her from spraining free. Archibald tied the cord behind her back in a tight triple-knot, and made sure nothing could possibly free her. As soon as he was done, she was going on about something or another. Archie took the time to produce a candy bar, and wander towards a large couch. He sprawled himself on it calmly, as if he didn't just tie up a complete stranger.

    "What we have here," Archibald started. "is now a hostage situation." He finished, as well as finishing his candy bar. He sighed, and lifted his glasses onto his forehead. He thought to himself, and looked at his watches. Well, he could run right now. None of them could catch him. But she did have an ID on him, and could identify him in a criminal line-up. He groaned.

    "Well, see you all in prison!"
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