[hider=May 25th, 2015]There was nothing but passing cars, neighborly shouting, and the hard pounding of her heart as she stood, frozen in the doorway of her crappy, cramped apartment, staring at this... [i]thing[/i] that lay just after the foot mat. Sleek, dark, and absolutely out of place, it stared right back at her, dormant and yet alluring.

What it was? She had no clue. The more pressing question was, how the hell did it get in the house?

Without tearing her gaze away from it, Marceline lifted her trusty black messenger bag from her body and gently let it drop to the floor while lifting a hand to the knob and lock, fingering the metal to see if anything felt out of place. When there was nothing, she simply pushed the door closed, knowing in the back of her mind that if someone had broken in, she wouldn't have had to [i]unlock[/i] the thing in the first place.

This had to be a joke.
This [i]had[/i] to be a joke.

"Karen? Dana? Hello? Evan?" she called out to the apartment, anticipating the silence she received in return. She was always first to come home - of course no one was there. But no one else had a key to the apartment except her three other roommates and the landlord, though she was seventy years old and much too kind to pull a prank like this.

Keeping the paranoia at bay, Marci reached into the back pocket of her high-waisted jeans and slid her phone out. She snapped a picture of the object in question and sent it to the group message:

[center][color=0054a6]Ha ha, very funny, you guys.[/color]
[color=92278f]What? 
What is that, M?[/color]
[color=39b54a]???[/color]
[color=f7941d]Is that a new briefcase? Lol[/color][/center]

Were they still fucking with her? ... They couldn't be. She sent back a reply to make sure:

[center][color=0054a6]Yeah haha, you like?[/color]
[color=f7941d]I mean yeah lol I just never thought you'd get a fucking suitcase[/color]
[color=39b54a]Yah weird, u gonna keep ur coloring pencils in there?[/color][/center]

Rolling her eyes and furrowing her brow, Marceline exhaled slowly through her nostrils and clicked her phone shut. Well, that answered that.

There was no use in still standing there like an idiot. Giving into the inevitable, she bent down and indulged in only a flicker of hesitation as she reached out, took the briefcase by the handle and straightened up. Marci held it a few inches away from her body as if it was a pair of Karen's stinky ass socks, not wanting to touch more of it at the moment than she had to. She brought the case to the couch of the living room and plopped herself down onto the cushion after turning on the table lamp beside it. With the mystery on her lap, she let her hands explore its exterior, leaving the latches for last. 

Knowing there was nothing left to do but open it, she clamped her teeth onto her lower lip and clicked the briefcase open. Inside was the invitation, a passport, a shit-ton of money, and a party popper...?

At least it didn't blow up.

She took the party popper and turned it over in her hands, chuckling a little at the thought of how upset Dana would be if she just let this sucker go off in the middle of the living room. Next she examined the passport, the most ominous of the contents. 

It was ominous because she didn't even have one. 

Marceline stared at the photo, which was the one that was on her work ID, for a good five minutes before setting it down with a shake of her head, the wave of paranoia creeping back over her. This was hands down the weirdest thing that has ever happened to her... and yet she could not deny the excitement that was mixing in with the paranoia after reading the letter.

Her nail-polish chipped fingers traced the outlines of the stacks of money within the briefcase absentmindedly and she stared at them without actually seeing anything but their green hue. 

An all-expenses paid trip to Germany?
Five [i]thousand[/i] dollars in cash?
A fucking party popper?

Marci didn't know what the hell this was all about, but if whoever was inviting her had enough of a sense of humor to include a tension diffuser as ridiculous as a party popper, then this deal couldn't be so bad.

[i]Besides,[/i] she thought as she took the popper back into her hands, [i]A luxury home in Germany to play in? Better than this shit-hole.[/i]

And with that she tugged on the string and let the colored strips rain over the center table of the room.  
[/hider]

[hr]
Marceline stepped out of the yellow taxi cab onto the airfield; the [b]private[/b] airfield, she noted. This was definitely a first, too. At this point, her excitement had grown from simple curiosity to a roaring enthusiasm, and the thought of being alone on a private jet added to her anticipation. 

Or at least, she hoped she would be alone. She'd given a thought to these other "lucky guests" that would also be at the Manor and wasn't sure if any others would be leaving New York with her. Marci wasn't ready to be bothered with extensive introductions just yet. She wanted time to settle into the fact that she was actually doing this.

Soon enough members of the staff came to take her luggage from out of the trunk while she heaved her messenger bag over her body and paid the driver with the cash she'd left on hand. As the car pulled away, Marci pulled out her passport and ID for one of the attendants, who gave it an empty stare for a second or two before smiling widely and thanking her.

"No, thank you," Marceline replied politely, flashing her own small smile as the staff member motioned for her to follow along. 

"So, you wouldn't happen to know anything about where this flight is headed, would you?" The question toppled out of her as her caramel colored gaze fell on the single jet waiting for her, bearing no name in sight. "It's headed for Germany, Miss," the woman replied, the clacking of her heels much more noticeable than the subtle tromp of Marci's beaten burgandy Doc Martens. Her eyebrows inched up slightly at the answer, and an amused grin formed on her mouth.

"Yes, I know that, but-"

"Here you are, Miss. The steward will take care of you from here," the woman interrupted, firm in tone but still bearing that overly warm smile. They had already arrived at the foot of the steps leading into the plane, on top of which the steward was indeed waiting. A bit taken aback by the bluntness, Marceline's grin turned into a soft scoff and she hooked her thumb around the strap of her bag.

"Oh-kay, then... Thanks." 

She gave a nod of acknowledgment to the woman before making her way up the stairs, where the steward greeted her and offered to take her bag for her. Marci declined, wanting to keep her bag on hand in case she got bored on the flight.

He showed her around the cabin, which looked more like a small lounge area than a cabin, and listed off all the accommodations they offered. Almost dazed with all this luxury, Marceline placed her bag at the side of the leather chair near the window and slowly lowered herself into the seat. 

"Anything I can get you at the moment, Ms. Chen?" he asked, standing at attention across from her with his hands behind his back, although he was just as warm as the staff had been. 

"Uh, yeah, could I get a Jameson and ginger ale?" If all of this was free, she might as well milk it for what it was worth.

There was still that giddy moment when he handed her the glass, a few seconds of [i]holy shit, this is cool[/i] as she herded the thin straw into her mouth and sipped. "We'll be taking off shortly," he informed her, and Marci gave him a grateful nod before settling into the chair and gazing out the window.

The flight was quite enjoyable - save for the many moments that the steward was hovering over her. He had introduced himself as Viktor, and was always somehow trying to find things to offer her for improved comfort. Marceline pinned it to over enthusiasm. Perhaps he was new to the job and wanted to make a good impression? Still, he was a little [b]too[/b] attentive for her taste. She had to assure him that she was more than fine a million times over, too polite to shoo him away, and even then she could feel his eyes on her, as if waiting for the smallest flick of the finger or the twitch of the mouth to summon him. 

Not all of it was bad though; like the fact that the minute she was done with one drink, he was slipping another into her hand. Marci was lucky she could handle her liquor well or else there would be trouble. But being woken up by his floating face - [b]way[/b] too close to hers - was incredibly uncomfortable, and she never shut her eyes again even after his extensive apologies.

It was almost a relief when they finally landed at their destination. Not having slept properly Marci was merely staring out the window when the steward approached her for the last time to aptly point out, "We've arrived, Ms. Chen."

With a short laugh, Marci nodded, moving to get up from the chair. Viktor immediately extended his hand to help her but she waved it away as politely as she could. She reached her hands over her head and stretched out, yawning as she dropped her lower half to gather her bag and replace it around her body. Viktor continued to watch her as she hastily adjusted herself, tugging her necklaces out from under the bag strap and untucking the sleeveless band-tee from her pants.

"Well, thank you for everything, buddy," Marci said as she began to make her way towards the open door. Predictably, he followed along, nodding his head and saying it was his pleasure. She could only throw a quick smile over her shoulder at him before rushing down the steps, thankful to be out of the small space.

Unfortunately, Viktor was still at her heels, informing her that he was the one to take her to the waiting rooms. "Of course you are," Marci sang, the sarcasm only apparent to herself as he led her away from the jet, dutifully stating that all of her luggage was taken care of. The cool air was blowing through her short, shaggy bob of hair and Marci was slowly realising just how much alcohol she'd consumed on the flight. She was quite pleasantly buzzed, which was going to help her deal with whatever was waiting for her in those rooms.

She walked a few feet away from Viktor, who seemed to be maintaining pace with her enough to keep her on his side. At this point she simply let it be: they were almost at the building anyway.

Finally they arrived at the place, and Viktor held the door open for her. "Thanks again, Viktor," she said as she awkwardly waved and slipped past him into the room simultaneously.

She heard the door shut behind her and was left with four others, two females and two males. It was quiet as hell, and Marceline didn't do well in silence, especially after being so well pampered by the bar.

After moving to the refreshments table and filling up a glass of water to counteract the alcohol, she leaned against the wall opposite of the couch and sipped from the cup. They all seemed to be in their own little bubbles, but a slightly tipsy Marci wasn't having it. She tugged her parka jacket closer around her body before speaking. 

"I guess you all got the invitation, too, yeah?"