[h2]Workin’ For A Living Part 8 - Early Evening[/h2]
[h3]New Melbourne[/h3]

OOC: JP between [@Winters], [@MK Blitzen] and [@Yule]

[table]
[row][cell][url=https://www.roleplayerguild.com/posts/5281577][img] https://i.imgur.com/1CPW58D.png [/img][/url] [/cell]
[cell] [url=https://www.roleplayerguild.com/posts/5281574][img] https://i.imgur.com/T64wNiT.png [/img][/url] [/cell]
[cell] [url=https://www.roleplayerguild.com/posts/5281589][img] https://i.imgur.com/66r372Q.png [/img][/url] [/cell] [/row][/table]

[hider=Skye’s Music]
[youtube]https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=r2BSZP74ySg[/youtube]
[/hider]


Isaac could hear that the 'distraction' ([i]Gorram it, Mat[/i]) was getting out of control and redoubled his efforts. The fight had spilled out onto the main hall. Even without the earpiece, even despite the considerable soundproofing in his room, he could hear the commotion outside of the door. He chewed his lip, turning the dial agonizingly slow for his liking given the current situation. This was it. Home stretch. If he hurried and screwed this up now, all the planning, everything, would have been for nothing. Suddenly, the resistance on the handle vanished. As it gave way and the teen almost yelped in alarm.

"That's three!" He whispered urgently into his mic.

“Four minutes,” Cyd whispered back, checking her datapad. “Do you have it?”  Gingerly, she peered out from behind the desk. Vanderhull’s tuxedo pants lay in a crumpled heap on the floor, and Cyd tried not to giggle, picturing the man running out in his broekies. 

It became quite a stir when Fishstick ran in damn near streaking in his boxer, followed by jilted husband raging and streaming obscenities hot on his tail and the Mimi behind him sobbing loudly. It was a hell of a sight as everything ground to halt. 

Fishstick crashed spectacularly into another person, given he was in socks and the wood floor had been polished to a mirror shine. Jon, the jilted husband wasted no time and soon enough the two men were rolling around knocking a few other people down and they throated like a pair of lame school boys on the ground. This left mini sobbing for them to stop, unable to do much of anything.

Security was a bit slow to react as they, Mathias and a few other waiters came in to break up the fight and help the party goers who had fallen over back up. Mathias along with one of the security guards managed to detangle Jon from Fishstick. The guards grip on Jon had been tenuous and Jon, still furious, lunged at Fishsticks again. Mathias held on in spite of his thrashing and shoving which unfortunately got him an eye full of elbow for his effort. 

The safe door swung open to reveal a rather sizeable black velvet bag sitting in the middle of the otherwise empty safe. The ruckus outside sounded like it was hitting a fever pitch and Isaac even heard his brother's voice among the ones grunting and shouting. He grabbed the bag and couldn't help but noticed how light it was for its size. "Got it." He triumphantly whispered into his mic. Closing and locking the safe, he pulled his pocket square and quickly wiped down the areas he had touched on the safe door and bookshelf before sliding it back. The bookshelf have a gentle click when it fell to rest in its original position. He made his way to the door but before opening it, he stopped and unzipped his pants, pulling a small bit of his shirt tail through the opening. "Ready to go." Isaac said to his siblings over the mic, signifying he was in position.

Finally with the two men separated Mathias was left with a torn suit jacket and  nursing a growing shiner.   He leaned next to the security door taking off his jacket to inspect the rip. Security had their hands full and all eyes were still on the shouting men. ‘N-O-W’ Mathias tapped on his mic as if he were inspecting his tender eye.

Isaac tucked the bag under his arm inside of his jacket and, using his pocket square, grabbed the door handle and opened it ever so slightly. Seeing Mathias's back acting as a physical blinder, the younger Skye has one of those rare moments where he appreciated how much shorter he was than his older brother. He slipped out and gently closed the door behind him. "Your jacket." Isaac tsked with disapproval as he tugged at the top of the sleeve where it had torn free. "Give it to me." He scolded Mathias. "I'll need to fix that."

Cyd scurried out from her hiding place when the coast was clear, slipping her data pad back into her bag. “Reset,” she told her brothers. By then guests and patrons were milling around uncomfortably, talking in hushed murmurs, skinner about what happened between Fishsticks and Mimi. A security guard handed Vanderhull his tuxedo pants, but like a petulant child, the minced fish mogul tossed them aside as a gaggle of women offered to console the man. Cyd gathered a cloth napkin full of ice, and standing on her tiptoes she pretended to scan the crowd until she found her kin. “For your eye,” she offered, checking their surroundings. “Bekkie, 9:00.” 

“Haven't I taken enough hits today.” Mathias sighed, pressing the ice to his swelling eye as Ms. Gershwitz trotted up to the trio.

“Oh you poor thing!” Ms. Gershwitz cooed, inspecting Mathias' face. She shot Isaac a look and an arched eyebrow, she cleared her throat for emphasis shooting a look at his pants.

Isaac gave her a confused look, following her gaze down before gasping in embarrassment as he fumbled to zip his pants. "Bathroom break." He said with a sheepish grin which was met with a stern ‘Hmm’ from Ms. Gershwitz, who had now latched on quite firmly to Mathias's arm. 

"No matter," she said in an uncharacteristically forgiving tone, "it would seem the festivities are ending early again this year and to think we almost made it to dessert this time." She sighed wistfully. "Come, you've been through quite enough" she said, presumably to all three of them but keeping her eyes firmly on Mathias when she did. "We'll get you settled up and...maybe something a little extra for your trouble." She added with a small devilish smirk that quickly vanished whenever she looked at anyone who [i]wasn't[/i] Mathias.

Cyd kept her head down, her eyes away from Gershwitz’s gaze as she followed behind her brothers. They were almost home free. 

Gershwitz paid each of them their own separate credits, and as promised, Mathias - did get a hefty bonus, right after he agreed to sign a waiver saying he wouldn’t sue for getting injured on the premises. He even managed to up that when he balked at signing, saying he was having trouble reading the agreement, what with his eye so swelled up. Gershwitz also offered them a dozen or so coupons for free fishstick boxes, which Isaac, of course, would think was lekker. Between that, their pay for the day, her tips, and of course, Isaac’s score, they made out, Cyd snickered inwardly,  like literal bandits.