[h3][center][u][color=fdc68a][b]Laura Adam[/b][/color][/u][/center][/h3]

[color=fdc68a]"Alright,"[/color] Laura said to Skyscraper with a smirk,[color=fdc68a] "But if you get caught, don't snitch me out to your parents. I don't wanna get grounded."[/color] 

She pushed herself off the wall and walked up to Free, taking a piece a piece of paper and reading it. [color=fdc68a]"I'll see what I can do. Watch out for mustard gas."[/color] A grey cloud billowed over her lips as she talked, but if Doughboy's gas mask was actually functional it wouldn't bother him.

Laura backed up a few steps before turning as she walked and jogged out the door. Stopping a few blocks away, she slipped on her old Gears, Jumpstart, and stood up. To get back into the swing of things, she used them as normal roller skates as she made her way to the building. Her target was an old motel. 

She casually rolled into the parking lot of the motel, and grabbed a black spray can. Throwing the can into the air and catching it again, Laura looked for a good spot.

She was thinking a bright yellow smiley face, with fire...

Glancing down at her black spray can, Laura frowned. Fucking pointless. Another puff of smoke went into the air before she flicked the cigarette into a nearby puddle in the broken cement. 

She took up a flight of stairs of the old motel, and one by one, spray painted a black, simple smiley face on every door. Two dots and a curve underneath, the spray paint often dripping to give the illusion of what looked like tears from the eyes or spit from the mouth. An hour later, every single motel door had a smiley face on it. 

A look of grim apathy on her face, Laura took to the central parking lot. Shaking her can one last time, she made two large circles on the grey cement, before another large curve. One last face, the biggest one. She angrily tossed the can aside, and turned around, before being confronted by a dark figure.

[b][color=1b1464]"Money! Now!"[/color][/b] A knife was the end of his extended arm. A dark brown coat and a woolen cloth hat topped the face of a desperate man. Someone who probably didn't want to do crime, down on their luck, and panicked. They needed cash, Laura probably had some. Laura wasn't sure what a better person would do, but she was certain on what she would do.
[color=fdc68a]
"Yeah, sure." [/color] Laura let the duffel bag fall from her shoulder, but as it fell, she grabbed the exposed corner of her crowbar when it fell past her hand. She clicked her right foot, heel, than toes, than heel, than a push. With an unexpected burst of speed, she brought up her weapon and slammed the middle of it into the chest of the would-be thief. Jumpstart hummed with light before dimming again.

The man yelped and fell downward, and the knife skidded across the pavement. Laura could see it in eyes, he was done. If she let him up now, he would just run away and probably not rob anyone ever again. For a brief moment, she thought of all the people she robbed. All the petty thievery she committed after her group disbanded. 

Saying nothing, Laura kicked him in the side. He scrambled to get to his feet, but Laura struck him again with her crowbar, this time managing to his shoulder. He fell back onto his back, and received a stomp to his girth for his trouble. He curled into the fetal position, expecting a full beating, apparently. Two more kicks.

[color=fdc68a]"Get up. Get the fuck out of here."[/color] He crawled away before stumbling to his feet and vanishing around a corner. Laura whirled around, feeling a pair of eyes on her neck. Her eyes scanned the rooftops, but she couldn't find the asshole from the Ratpack watching her.

Well, if the Rats wanted someone to beat the shit out of people, they found it in her.

Flicking on the Drive's in her gears, Laura sailed down the street, leaving her smiles-ridden target behind. 

She didn't head straight for the warehouse. Instead, she dashed in between alley ways, doubling back on herself multiple times. She zoomed under bridges and even went through a few abandoned houses. She became lost in the nooks and crannys of the Confiance slums. Sweat on her forehead, breathing heavily, she finally felt free of the gaze of the Ratpack. She'd get there on her own time, with no one watching her.

Checking her old phone, she had about an hour to get back to the meeting location. An hour to stop being lost.

After 45 minutes of getting reoriented, Laura was about a block away from the warehouse. She decided to wait until the last couple of minutes before entering.