THE PLACE:
WICKHOUSE MUSEUM OF ART AND HISTORY
THE DATE:
SEPTERMBER 27TH
THE TIME:
LATE AT NIGHT (You forgot to bring your watch)
THE GOAL:
1. GET IN
2. GET SOME STUFF
3. GET OUT
4. GET ??????
5. GET ABSOLUTELY LOADED
[[allow us to get this bread (or whatever they store in museums these days)]]Initial excitement aside, you still have to get in the building. Life's tough like that.
Looking at the front, there are quite a few options. You could [[smash a window and dive through]], [[climb into one of the air vents on the walls]], [[sneak in through the sewer system]], or maybe [[open the front door]]. Of course, the windows! Any self respecting big-time thief, which you certainly are, would immediately go for smashing a window and making a dramatic entrance. It's the civilized way to break into a facility. I think.
Without skipping a breath - it's important to keep proper control of your breathing during a practice like this - you grab a nearby rock, chuck it towards a stained glass window, watch in manic glee as it crumbles to technicolor dust, and [[dive right in like an action hero]]. A proper thief knows to take the road not taken, or, failing that, the road less taken. Provided that nobody else has robbed this place recently, the vents should make for an apt, albeit rather crammed and rectangular road.
At a moment's notice, you proceed. You amble up to one of the museum's surprisingly irregular brick & stone walls and begin to mantle up with your gangly claws, the serrated tips delicately weaving between the cracks, until you arrive at the vent.
You delicately squeeze inside, finding just the right positioning to shuffle through uninhibited. You then crawl forwards, looking through the many vent covers for an ideal place to drop.
Peering through the vents gets tough, what with the small slits that you have to peer through. It also gets tough because they are filled to the brim with darkness. It's amazing how much work all those lightbulbs do.
Then it gets harder to hold a breath. It turns out the air that gets vented isn't exactly friendly on the respiratory system.
Crawling gets harder. Pulling yourself even an inch further is like scaling a mountain. Breathing starts to sting. Eyesight becomes an afterthought.
And eventually, it all goes... //poof.//
You have died of suffocation.
TREASURES GOT: A case of Black Lung... or at the very least, Really, Really Dark Grey Lung.
Well, that was a downer. What say we [[go for another round?||Aight so here's the dealio ]]But of course, the great staple of any good heist: wandering through the sewers underneath the building! Nobody ever thinks to look in the sewers. It's the perfect hiding spot.
Acting efficiently, you life up a nearby manhole cover, dropping down into the dank depths. You quickly land in a dark puddle within the winding aquaducts.
A pungent smell meets your nostrils as you get a bearing on your surroundings. Piles of soot line the halls and flowing streams of waste water barrel through curving brick caverns. Ever confident in the assurance of an entrance to the center of the museum, you march onwards.
After a sizeable amount of time spent wandering, you come upon a ceiling trapdoor. With the distance that you had to travel to get here, it has to be situated somewhere within the main thick of the building. It's a perfect entrance!
With nary a second thought, you open it.
And a second thought doesn't really have time to shine after the fact, as several pounds of nondescript waste and rubbish come hurdling down a long chute, falling on top of you. Unable to withstand both the sheer volume of trash and the fact that it came immediately upon opening the door, waiting to ambush an unlucky bystander, you are crushed. Several pieces of metal, a myriad of retired exhibits, and a barrage of paper food wrappers turn your husk of a body into a new, bloodied addition to the collective.
You have died of being crushed.
TREASURE GOT: One man's trash (at least)
Well, that went downhill fast... or down chute, rather. Maybe I should have brought up the warning signs... [[Wanna go again?||Aight so here's the dealio ]]
Sometimes, the most straight forward plan is best. You can't always gun for the flashy or daring routes to your goals. Flashy and daring road bumps always stick up higher. Besides, it's just a museum of ancient, near-priceless artifacts. What's the worst they could have, a security system?
You calmly walk up and open the door. Entry is quick, simple, and goes off without a hitch.
Walking up to the ticket master, you hand over some cash and take a ticket. You wander the grand halls, admiring the many glorious baubels on display. You study the brilliant artistry and techniques of masters bygone, learn of the complex history of cultures from throughout the world, and gain a newfound appreciation for how vast and colorful it truly is.
After a long day of seeing many enlightening sights, you waltz out of the building and head home.
You have successfully gotten into and out of the museum.
TREASURES GOT: The greatest treasure of all... knowledge.
This antique pottery from the other side of the world is pretty cool, too!
//FIN//After a few moments of rocketing through the air gracefully, it dawns on you that jumping so high up may have been a questionable course of action to take with a window two stories up - oh yeah, it's two stories up, shoulda mentioned that, sorry. Honestly, I was so wrapped up in the enthusiasm of the moment that I forgot to actually //describe// the place. It's a shame, too! I had this whole grand image conjured up in my head. There were giant marble pillars, gargoyles the size of elephants with feriocious heads that you would have never seen anything like before - and I guess you still wouldn't have since I would have just described them - towering iron gates adorned with elegant golden scripture, statues dedicated to gods beyond what I could succinctly describe in a paragraph, a ticket booth-
Anyways, falling. You fall straight through the window, plummmeting down the winding stairwell as you tumble through a rainstorm of glass shards, experiencing the least comforting form of acupuncture mankind could ever devise, and eventually collapsing into a basement where your body is wrung into several strained, meaty pieces.
You have died of jumping through a window.
TREASURES GOT: A fun story to tell to the people in Hell about how you got there.
[[...Wanna go again?||Aight so here's the dealio ]]