OPERATION: MAD MEN - Break and Enter
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xp_logsMarie-Ange and Jubilee follow up the lead from Wanda and Felicia, tossing Erma's apartment for clues.
Maple Grove Residences had neither maples or a grove anywhere close to it; a squat barebones six story red brick building ringed by the black fire escapes. It specifically advertised itself as a building for unmarried professional woman seeking security in the big city. Erma Schrean had a small apartment on the fourth floor. Felicia and Wanda had pinpointed Erma as attached to Underwood's spy ring, but cracking the specific codes to try and pull the information they were transmitting would take too long. Instead, they opted for the oldest technique in the book - toss her place and see if they could turn up anything useful.
Jubilee had been surprised at how easy entrance to the building had been, but these were the days before rampant paranoia made everyone retreat behind gated communities and doormen. It was also the matter of moments to pick the lock on the fourth floor apartment, gaining them access to Erma Schrean's belongings and hopefully the target locations for the Helios base.
"You take the bedroom, I'll take the kitchen?" Jubilee held the door open for Marie-Ange, a somewhat overdone bow gesturing her inside. "Or is she a 'hide the secret stuff in the toilet bowl in a plastic bag type, do you think?"
"It is nineteen sixty. There is no plastic bag." Marie-Ange frowned, and it was a scowl on "Muriel's" round, expressive face. "You watch too much television." She took a stenopad from her purse and tapped at it with the pencil that had been behind her ear. "We do not split up. If we split up, then we risk discovery. First the kitchen, then bedroom, then living spaces. You are the new maid, I am your supervisor and remember you cannot explode anyone here." She had tried to image up an imp already, failed, and gotten a headache for her troubles but Jubilee did not need to know that.
“Dude, just because things are on television don’t make them completely left field.” Jubilee’s voice was more radio announcer perfect coming out of this body’s vocal cords but the expression on her face was pure Jubilee even with the differences in bone structure and skin tone. “Come on then, kitchen it is.”
No Kurieg Machine, but a coffee pot, and no counter full of trendy little appliances to make juice, waffles, sandwiches, to shred cheese or make breakfast sandwiches. This was a kitchen Marie-Ange almost could have cooked in. It had a stove, a refrigerator that did not talk or send grocery orders to Amazon, and a plastic box of recipes written on index cards. And almost nowhere to hide anything. Marie-Ange poked through the cabinets and stacks of dated - ugly - not retro, just ugly - dishes. "Nothing here but pastel flowered china and dust. Does this woman ever eat on her own plates?"
“Maybe she’s a secret restaurant critic?” Jubilee tapped on the walls at several points, checking for any hidden panels or secret switches. It wasn’t likely given the apartment but you could never be too careful. “Is that a thing yet? I don’t know how anybody lived without wifi, seriously.”
Jubilee attempted to pull the refrigerator away from the wall only to fail spectacularly as the condition of the body she was in obviously didn’t spend it’s time hanging from drainpipes or pulling itself across the city at anything but ground level.
“Come and help me move this, I want to see if there’s anything behind that could give us a clue.”
"It had better not be roach droppings" Marie-Ange curled her fingers - plain, inelegant, stubby bitten-off nails - around the sides of the fridge's door, set her feet - oxford flats, she hated this body - and pulled, and slowly and grudgingly the fridge came away from the wall. "I do not think I can move it much more, you may have to wiggle around." She said, between grunts as the fridge moved another sparing half-inch.
"Got it!" Jubilee slipped around behind the fridge, glad that this body while not as gymnastically flexible as her own, was at least somewhat similar to her own natural slimness, if possibly with a bit more up top then she was used to. She'd been unbalanced the first couple of days, trying to get used to a centre of gravity that didn't at all match her own. "I think I've got something."
She pulled a packet off the back of the fridge, sliding the tape off carefully to make sure she didn't break it. She wasn't sure what exactly they'd find and she wanted to make sure they could put it back if need be.
"How are you a pretzel anywhere you go?" Marie-Ange muttered darkly. She left her feet set firmly - if they had to move quickly to get the refrigerator back in place, she did not want to have to find her core strength again. "Do not answer that." She added - and frowned as Jubilee tipped a packet of photos out. "Well. Well. I hate this decade just for a lack of very good cameras." She plucked the pencil from behind her ear again and started sketching the first photo's details as quickly as she could. "I do not recognize any of these at all."
"Not like completely everywhere." Jubilee looked at the photos, pulling a set of gloves from one of the pockets of her dress. At least they still included pockets during this time period, or at least the lady whose face she was currently wearing enjoyed having them enough that her fashion choices reflected that need. She pulled them on and started pushing aside several of the photos, looking for anything useful. "Nothing particularly special about any of them, although like, at least they've got numbers. Can you see any street names on the backs?"
"No." Marie-Ange flipped the first photo, frowned, and took the second and did her best to copy it in sketchy lines, but there as not even so much as a street sign on either. "I think if I draw them out I can draw them again when we are done... " She waved her hand indicating the kitchen - , the apartment, the city, Kevin's mind - "I think. There are numbers, and you are better at those than I am. They might be building numbers, but in this era, who knows, they could be phone exchanges."
“I’ll memorize them. How long do you need? We should probably check the rest of the place out too.” Jubilee stepped around the fridge and the kitchen table to peak out of the window above the kitchen sink. It was small and grimy and unfortunately looked directly out onto a brick wall. “Do you think he feels us in here at all? Like, Kevin, I mean.”
"I have no idea. I am quite certain I am going to have a migraine the moment we are done here." Marie-Ange groused. "Here, help me put this back and we can check inside her toilet tank. If she is hiding things behind kitchen appliances, you may be right, perhaps she is a cliche and has it in the toilet."
Jubilee put her back into moving the refrigerator back into place with the help of Marie-Ange, cursing her lack of underlying strength yet again. She couldn't wait to be out of Kevin's head and back where she actually understood how her own body moved, she'd almost given herself a charlie horse just a few hours ago and she wasn't looking forward to any more surprises.
"I gotta say, I got an appointment with some kind of spa day once this is all over."
She moved out of the kitchen and toward the bedroom, trusting Marie-Ange to follow behind in a timely manner but it was as she moved past the front door she heard the movement of keys and the gentle step of a returning apartment owner.
"This is not even real, why do you need ... " Marie-Ange cut herself off, and practically bullrushed Jubilee through the bedroom door and past a wicker laundry basket and a few dresses tossed over the back of a chair. "No time, those pictures are going to need to be enough." She ducked past Jubilee, and pulled the window open smoothly. "Meet at headquarters, and if I am not ten seconds behind you, bail me out. I will pretend to be robbing her."
Maple Grove Residences had neither maples or a grove anywhere close to it; a squat barebones six story red brick building ringed by the black fire escapes. It specifically advertised itself as a building for unmarried professional woman seeking security in the big city. Erma Schrean had a small apartment on the fourth floor. Felicia and Wanda had pinpointed Erma as attached to Underwood's spy ring, but cracking the specific codes to try and pull the information they were transmitting would take too long. Instead, they opted for the oldest technique in the book - toss her place and see if they could turn up anything useful.
Jubilee had been surprised at how easy entrance to the building had been, but these were the days before rampant paranoia made everyone retreat behind gated communities and doormen. It was also the matter of moments to pick the lock on the fourth floor apartment, gaining them access to Erma Schrean's belongings and hopefully the target locations for the Helios base.
"You take the bedroom, I'll take the kitchen?" Jubilee held the door open for Marie-Ange, a somewhat overdone bow gesturing her inside. "Or is she a 'hide the secret stuff in the toilet bowl in a plastic bag type, do you think?"
"It is nineteen sixty. There is no plastic bag." Marie-Ange frowned, and it was a scowl on "Muriel's" round, expressive face. "You watch too much television." She took a stenopad from her purse and tapped at it with the pencil that had been behind her ear. "We do not split up. If we split up, then we risk discovery. First the kitchen, then bedroom, then living spaces. You are the new maid, I am your supervisor and remember you cannot explode anyone here." She had tried to image up an imp already, failed, and gotten a headache for her troubles but Jubilee did not need to know that.
“Dude, just because things are on television don’t make them completely left field.” Jubilee’s voice was more radio announcer perfect coming out of this body’s vocal cords but the expression on her face was pure Jubilee even with the differences in bone structure and skin tone. “Come on then, kitchen it is.”
No Kurieg Machine, but a coffee pot, and no counter full of trendy little appliances to make juice, waffles, sandwiches, to shred cheese or make breakfast sandwiches. This was a kitchen Marie-Ange almost could have cooked in. It had a stove, a refrigerator that did not talk or send grocery orders to Amazon, and a plastic box of recipes written on index cards. And almost nowhere to hide anything. Marie-Ange poked through the cabinets and stacks of dated - ugly - not retro, just ugly - dishes. "Nothing here but pastel flowered china and dust. Does this woman ever eat on her own plates?"
“Maybe she’s a secret restaurant critic?” Jubilee tapped on the walls at several points, checking for any hidden panels or secret switches. It wasn’t likely given the apartment but you could never be too careful. “Is that a thing yet? I don’t know how anybody lived without wifi, seriously.”
Jubilee attempted to pull the refrigerator away from the wall only to fail spectacularly as the condition of the body she was in obviously didn’t spend it’s time hanging from drainpipes or pulling itself across the city at anything but ground level.
“Come and help me move this, I want to see if there’s anything behind that could give us a clue.”
"It had better not be roach droppings" Marie-Ange curled her fingers - plain, inelegant, stubby bitten-off nails - around the sides of the fridge's door, set her feet - oxford flats, she hated this body - and pulled, and slowly and grudgingly the fridge came away from the wall. "I do not think I can move it much more, you may have to wiggle around." She said, between grunts as the fridge moved another sparing half-inch.
"Got it!" Jubilee slipped around behind the fridge, glad that this body while not as gymnastically flexible as her own, was at least somewhat similar to her own natural slimness, if possibly with a bit more up top then she was used to. She'd been unbalanced the first couple of days, trying to get used to a centre of gravity that didn't at all match her own. "I think I've got something."
She pulled a packet off the back of the fridge, sliding the tape off carefully to make sure she didn't break it. She wasn't sure what exactly they'd find and she wanted to make sure they could put it back if need be.
"How are you a pretzel anywhere you go?" Marie-Ange muttered darkly. She left her feet set firmly - if they had to move quickly to get the refrigerator back in place, she did not want to have to find her core strength again. "Do not answer that." She added - and frowned as Jubilee tipped a packet of photos out. "Well. Well. I hate this decade just for a lack of very good cameras." She plucked the pencil from behind her ear again and started sketching the first photo's details as quickly as she could. "I do not recognize any of these at all."
"Not like completely everywhere." Jubilee looked at the photos, pulling a set of gloves from one of the pockets of her dress. At least they still included pockets during this time period, or at least the lady whose face she was currently wearing enjoyed having them enough that her fashion choices reflected that need. She pulled them on and started pushing aside several of the photos, looking for anything useful. "Nothing particularly special about any of them, although like, at least they've got numbers. Can you see any street names on the backs?"
"No." Marie-Ange flipped the first photo, frowned, and took the second and did her best to copy it in sketchy lines, but there as not even so much as a street sign on either. "I think if I draw them out I can draw them again when we are done... " She waved her hand indicating the kitchen - , the apartment, the city, Kevin's mind - "I think. There are numbers, and you are better at those than I am. They might be building numbers, but in this era, who knows, they could be phone exchanges."
“I’ll memorize them. How long do you need? We should probably check the rest of the place out too.” Jubilee stepped around the fridge and the kitchen table to peak out of the window above the kitchen sink. It was small and grimy and unfortunately looked directly out onto a brick wall. “Do you think he feels us in here at all? Like, Kevin, I mean.”
"I have no idea. I am quite certain I am going to have a migraine the moment we are done here." Marie-Ange groused. "Here, help me put this back and we can check inside her toilet tank. If she is hiding things behind kitchen appliances, you may be right, perhaps she is a cliche and has it in the toilet."
Jubilee put her back into moving the refrigerator back into place with the help of Marie-Ange, cursing her lack of underlying strength yet again. She couldn't wait to be out of Kevin's head and back where she actually understood how her own body moved, she'd almost given herself a charlie horse just a few hours ago and she wasn't looking forward to any more surprises.
"I gotta say, I got an appointment with some kind of spa day once this is all over."
She moved out of the kitchen and toward the bedroom, trusting Marie-Ange to follow behind in a timely manner but it was as she moved past the front door she heard the movement of keys and the gentle step of a returning apartment owner.
"This is not even real, why do you need ... " Marie-Ange cut herself off, and practically bullrushed Jubilee through the bedroom door and past a wicker laundry basket and a few dresses tossed over the back of a chair. "No time, those pictures are going to need to be enough." She ducked past Jubilee, and pulled the window open smoothly. "Meet at headquarters, and if I am not ten seconds behind you, bail me out. I will pretend to be robbing her."
