(Untitled)

[thiefprinceremy]

Remy was... mildly surprised that the group hadn't turned any heads on the transfer through the bar from Paris to New York, but he wasn't going to argue it, in fact, as far as he was concerned, the lack of notice was probably a good thing, meant he wouldn't have to answer too many questions when he got back

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[sinisteressex]

'Arielle' nodded. "Thank you, Mr. LeBeau." She wrapped her coat around her tighter, to keep out the freezing rain. "There's a service entrance behind the hotel I'm staying at. Will you please lead the group there?"

It led down the sewer, where Essex would be waiting, to take his marauders to the target.

[thiefprinceremy]

He shook his head, "Don' mention it, jus' sorry it took so long."

Eyeing the group he nodded towards the woman, "She's t'boss, we clear on t'at?" Once he'd gotten answers in the affirmative he nodded again, "Righ', let's go."

Even during the short walk from the drop point door of the Bar to the hotel Remy decided that he'd have to come see the city again sometime.

[sinisteressex]

"I'll come to the bar and give you your payment in the morning. Take care."

Once Remy was out of sight, Essex ran, shifting from the small, female form, to his much more commanding normal one. it took nearly no time for him to slip into another service entrance, and race for a point that was out of view, if one was simply leading a group of men to a door and leaving.

[thiefprinceremy]

Yeah, about the 'leaving' part. There was something... off about this whole situation, it was just that it had taken this long for Remy to actually pay any attention to the nagging little voice in the back of his head.

It had almost always been there, really, since it was his ingrained Paranoia, and often he did actually listen to it. Well, sometimes, anyway. Originally this wasn't going to be on of those times, but it was an insistent little voice, when it wanted to be, and sometimes it was easier to satisfy it than ignore it.

Once the crew was through the door he kept it from closing tightly, counting to sixty before slipping through it himself.