[center][color=darkorchid][h2]Alison Fintan[/h2][/color][/center]

[i][color=darkorchid]I could get used to this view...[/color][/i]

Alison sipped from her mug as she stared out the hotel window upon the streets below. The people looked so small from so high above, like little ants rushing to their next destination without any deeper thought. No plans beyond the immediate future, no regard of the past, tiny cogs in an ever-spinning machine doing their part. She took another sip as her gaze turned towards the rest of her executive suite. At first she felt a bit guilty for booking this room but it was a necessary part of her plan. Besides: it wasn't so bad staying at the most expensive room of the W Times Square. The luxurious suite was as colorful as it was large, hardly touched in the past two days with a few obvious exceptions.

Firstly, and the most eye-catching, was the large wooden crate leaned against one of the walls. It had clearly been pried open before but was somewhat sealed up again, just enough to keep whatever contents within from falling out should it accidentally be moved. Secondly, and also fittingly, were two black duffel bags lying on the ground next to the master bed. They both appeared to be stuffed full, though one seemed at least slightly less full. Lastly there was an open laptop situated on the glass table by the kitchen area, with a neat stack of papers to its side. These additions to the room were necessary for Alison's "base of operations". Another sip of the coffee and her gaze returned to the street below. [i][color=darkorchid]Today's the day.[/color][/i]

Raven hair twirled behind her as she turned from the glass and made her way across the room to the crate. With a passing touch, barely a caress of her finger, the wooden crate instantly vanished without a trace. Its peculiar location made it extremely unlikely to be accidentally bumped into while invisible on the off-chance that Alison's request to have no room service while she was out was ignored. That crate cannot be found under any circumstances, after all, so the best place to hide it was in plain sight. Once it was hidden she walked over to the kitchen's sink, setting the mug inside and leaving it without so much as a quick rinse. Once next to the bed she crouched down and opened the duffel bag that appeared the least full, exposing the bands of cash inside. Each one of composed of crisp, clean $100 bills and notarized by the paper band. [i][color=darkorchid]It's crazy every time I think about it,[/color][/i] she briefly thought to herself before grabbing two stacks out. She looked them over one last time before they turned invisible, upon which she stashed them in the hidden waistband pocket of her pants. After zipping the bag up she placed her other hand on the second bag, turning both invisible before shoving them under the bed.

As she left the room, hanging a "do not disturb" sign on the handle, she patted her right hand on the back of her waist. Something invisible was tucked in there, unseen but not unfelt by her hand. With that final item on her list checked she began to walk down the extravagant hallway, immediately passing a concierge leaving a neighboring suite. [color=bisque]"Good morning, Miss Stanley,"[/color] he greeted, topped off with a polite nod. Alison feigned a smile and waved, returning the polite gesture, but she didn't slow her walk in the least. After spending the last two days working on her preparations it was finally time to get to work.

[hr]

It was a rather large yet unassuming building, as Alison would describe most in New York City, but it was where she needed to start. Uniformed and off-duty police were going to and fro about the entrance of the Forensic Investigation Center making an easy way in undetected. But there was a better way. The invisible woman hiked around the building to its parking lot, filled with NYPD vans and a cruiser or two. There were two doors here: one for foot traffic and one serving as a loading dock for moving bodies from vans into the building and vice-versa. No sooner than Alison approached the foot traffic door did it click and open. A single officer stepped outside, keys in hand and immediately heading toward one of the cruisers. He wouldn't notice that the weighted door behind him took but a second longer to close than usual.

Once inside things became a bit more complicated but Alison had nothing but time. She wasn't able to get a layout of the building and wasn't able to ask any passerby for directions so she had already anticipated she would be here a while. Her first task was to find the body of the most recent victim, though if any older bodies were still in the building they would do as well. Not like there was long periods of time between killings anyways so any victims here should still be relatively fresh. Alison walked slowly and methodically, avoiding contact with not only any passing workers or officers but also with any doors. Whenever she encountered a closed door she would bide her time and wait patiently for someone to come by and open it, removing the risk of accidentally opening a door in view of someone she couldn't see on the other side.

This process of navigating turned what would be a two minute walk into a thirty minute journey by the time she entered the morgue. She knew there was a chance that the body would in storage right now since there was no way for her to predict when the autopsy would occur but luck was on her side. The body was lying on a table with two men standing above it; a doctor and an assistant, or perhaps a trainee. They hadn't begun to cut into it yet and were going over the information on the clipboard in the assistant's hands as they prepared to start. The timing couldn't be any more perfect for Alison, as she would get to witness the autopsy firsthand and once they were done she would (probably) have an opportunity to investigate herself. As her gaze turned to the victim's face she felt a brief tug at her heartstrings. It was just a girl, barely an adult. But the sympathy was quickly suppressed as Alison steeled herself and returned to business-mode. [i][color=darkorchid]Reveal your secrets to me, Night Prowler.[/color][/i]