a man like that, WITH A GUN // open

[Sly Cooper]

So it turned out that this world, just like Sly's own, had no shortage of skeevy artists. Especially in Paris. They'd been planning this heist for awhile now - it would be their first since they'd arrived here, and at first he had thought it'd been going...fairly smoothly. The man they were stealing from had talent, Sly would give him that. It was no wonder his paintings were selling so well - it was just too bad that he was using his newfound wealth to purchase dangerous weapons in the black market. The way Sly saw it, he was doing the city a favor, taking some of the paintings off of this guy's hands.

It'd taken Bentley less than a half hour to hack into the security network and deactivate the laser grids, security cameras, and trigger alarms - and there'd been so few guards posted that Sly had been able to take them out without Murray's help. It all almost seemed a little too easy, and so it had been with a healthy amount of caution that he'd proceeded to steal the most expensive painting in the gallery. There hadn't been a problem. He'd even nearly made it back to the van before he'd realized that there....may have been a thing or two he'd overlooked.

Like the fact that the few guards on the premises had been ordered to radio in with the boss regularly. And when that didn't happen, the metaphorical alarm had been raised, and reinforcements had been sent in just in time to catch Sly heading out onto the roof with their precious painting. Awkward.

Some of the thugs had already discovered the van, and Bentley and Murray had been forced to make a quick getaway in order to avoid them. It wasn't really surprising that their plan had gone awry (it was kind of something they'd all learned to be prepared for, at this point) and they would rendezvous later, when the coast was clear. Anyway, it was kind of boring when everything went exactly according to plan - and this job had involved a great deal of stealth and patience. He was kind of itching for the chance to really stretch his legs a little. The only thing was, priceless paintings weren't exactly easy to run around with at the best of times, let alone when you were being shot at. He'd headed into an abandoned building a block or so down and stored it under some loose floorboards. The thugs could either waste time looking for it, or come after him. And if they chose the former, it'd be pretty easy to pick them off one by one while they were distracted.

...Unfortunately, they...seemed to have chosen the latter. Well! It would be more interesting, anyway. He kinda doubted that most of them were quite agile enough to leap from rooftop to rooftop anyway, which was really going to make things disappointingly easy. ..Or so he'd thought, at least, but there were more of them than they'd thought - these were hired men straight off the streets (real classy), not civilized, trained guards, and they were angry. Rampaging the streets below, they looked just about ready to attack anyone who crossed their path as they searched for him. And they were fanning out to cover more ground, making it difficult to keep track of all of them.

If he didn't stop them, they were going to hurt someone who had nothing to do with all of this.

"Sly, where are you? Give those guys the slip so we can come pick you up." Bentley's voice sounded through the communicator.

Sly hesitated. "...Can't do that, Bentley. Thing's have gotten a little crazy, here. I have no idea where the police are, but if someone doesn't stop that shooting - people are going to start to panic." He could practically see Bentley rolling his eyes now, but he knew his friend wasn't going to argue - Bentley wasn't without his heroic streak. Even if he didn't show it as readily as Sly did.

"...Just be careful, Sly. If things get too heated, get out of there."

Without another word, he began darting along the edge of the building's roof, scanning the streets for any...shenanigans that might be going down below.

[Carmelita Fox]

Carmelita drummed her fingers on the pull-out desk next to the keyboard. This world was incredibly different and it wasn't going to be easy adjusting to those variants. Thankfully, though there was no Interpol, there was still a police organization. In fact, this world had what was called the International Criminal Police Organization. Though it had taken longer than she'd have liked, along with a lot more hassle, this police division had managed to establish her credibility and Carmelita had taken off here right where she'd left in her own world; hunting down criminals and bringing them to justice.

She'd arrived at a convenient time, as well. The ICPO had received word that a rising artist was dealing in the black arms department. They had little evidence, but enough had been gathered to warrant an investigation by a fourth generation Inspector. So, here she was, waiting inside a van decked out with all kinds of equipment and currently in the middle of a stake-out. A stake-out which, in Carmelita's opinion, was dangerously boring. Hopefully, if she managed to scrounge up enough evidence, she could move in to arrest the crook. But, that would have to wait a while, yet.

Against the wake of boredom, Carmelita's only defense were her memories of her own world; specifically of a certain raccoon. She'd left on an assignment and had no idea what had happened to him. Without even noticing, she began to fall into her usual routine, one she established often when on the hunt for the master thief. She didn't even realize the motions she was going through, they felt so natural. However, she did notice when something checked off. She'd managed to hack into the building's security feed and something was off about on of the monitors. Finishing her checks, she began to suspect something was very wrong. Not a moment later, she caught something; an indiscriminate shadow that flickered on the monitor for only a second. Yet, the way it appeared, the way it looked, everything about it was familiar to her. Cooper.

Flashing back to the galas, assignments, and undercover operations she'd attended with the raccoon, she couldn't help but dwell on her previous doubt. She'd suspected that the ring-rail had been slipping back into his own ways for a long while. It was impossible to miss the furtive glances at the priceless objects they were protecting, the analytic gaze about the security. Carmelita felt guilty enough about taking advantage of his amnesia. Beginning to think his memory might be returning, or worse yet, that he'd been lying about it? Those thoughts made Carm feel absolutely pitiful.

Brushing those thoughts aside, the fox burst out of the van and rushed for the scene. Sly wasn't the only one who was capable of being invisible. Carmelita leapt lightly from structure to structure, making her way to the location of the camera she'd seen Cooper in. However, before she'd made it far, a commotion erupted not far off. She ducked into a cranny just in time to see a figure escape from the building's interior. Only to be met by a force of guards. Carm waited until the whole company departed before she crept from her hiding place. With a sigh, she couldn't help but inwardly reprimand the raccoon for his mistake. She'd implemented similar tactics before, and he hadn't had any trouble then. He must be getting rusty.

As she embarked to follow the guards chasing Sly, she noticed their incompetence and brutishness. Carmelita felt disgust; these were mere hired thugs. As she watched, one of them, looking for Sly who was no doubt hiding, hefted a young woman up and began swearing at her profusely. Having had even, Carm quickly pulled out her shock pistol, aimed carefully, and shot him dead in the face. He went down without another word. Dropping heavily to the streets, Inspector Fox dispatched the other guards with minimal trouble. One had foolishly tried to use her tail against her, but he'd quickly learned how big that was of a mistake.

Twirling and sheathing her gun, the woman surveyed the area for any more lackeys. She called out, just to be sure. "Anybody else want to tango with Carmelita Montoya Fox?"

[Sly Cooper]

On the bright side, these idiots were making so much noise that they were probably scaring away any potential victims from a mile off. Still, Sly didn't want to take any chances. He darted along from rooftop to rooftop, and then, as he crouched in preparation to make his next leap, he noticed it. One of the thugs making his way down the alleyway below him. Sly swished his tail briefly. He wasn't gonna get a better chance than this - and taking these guys out one by one was probably his best shot. Soundlessly, he headed down the fire escape, leaping up and balancing on the railing when he was only a few feet above the thug. Currently, the goon was checking around, behind - even inside the dumpsters that lined the alley. As if a master thief would resort to hiding in trash. When the man was directly below him, Sly gave a brief chuckle. "Seriously? I'm feeling a little insulted." And before the thug could respond, Sly had swung his cane down, hooked it in the back of the man's jacket, and hauled him up onto the fire escape and against the wall with a resounding crash. And that was it - he was out cold, and would prooobably be feeling that in the morning.

With a faint smirk, Sly reached down to relieve the thug of his gun, and made a mental note to alert the local cops of his location before he got a chance to wake up. It was kind of hilarious, really - no matter what world you were in, people never seemed to remember to look up. To be fair, raccoon thieves lunging down from rooftops to attack probably weren't on the list of things most people were taught to look out for, especially here. But he wasn't complaining. It worked to his advantage, after all. He quickly climbed back up to the top of the roof, whipping out his binocucom to get a better look around. This guy's pals couldn't be far. His ears flicked, then - because a series of shots had abruptly broken through the silence. For a split second, he thought the remaining thugs might have open-fired on some unfortunate civilians - but this wasn't the earsplitting sound of regular gunfire. No, this...this was the all too familiar sound of a shock pistol.

Sly froze, his heart skipping a beat. Nah - it couldn't be, right? There were probably plenty of police officers around here who used shock pistols, he was sure. Never the less, he swiveled the binocucom around and zoomed in on the scene unfolding a few streets down...and sure enough, there she was - finishing off the last of the goons who'd confronted her (really, they hadn't stood a chance) - Inspector Carmelita Fox.

...What was she doing here? She hadn't been with Sly, Bentley, and Murray when they'd driven through the rift - he was sure of it - and thus, she was just about the last person he'd ever expected to find here. Not that he was disappointed. Carmelita made things more difficult, sure, but she was a big part of why all of this was fun. He wouldn't have wanted any other cop on his tail, and...for more reasons than that. But, just as a grin was sneaking its way onto his face, a sharp pang of guilt seized him. If she saw him now, in his full thieving gear...she'd know. She'd know he'd been lying to her, all this time. And the last thing Sly wanted to do was hurt her, but...at the same time, he couldn't just walk away. Couldn't just leave her here. They were in an entirely new world, the two of them - and what was more, there were dangerous thugs lurking around at the moment. He had to make sure she was alright. And truth be told, she deserved the truth. It was time to stop putting it off. He'd be straight with her - whatever she thought of him afterwards.

Tucking the binocucom away in his bag, he slipped over to her position, unable to fight back a smile at her words. Some things never changed. Hopping down onto the ground soundlessly behind her, Sly straightened up and flashed a grin that was somewhat more confident than he was actually feeling. "Is that an open invitation?" he quipped, fully anticipating her whipping around - and maybe even instantly firing at him, if he was angry enough. Needless to say, the raccoon was ready to dodge, even if he didn't appear outwardly tense.

Being hit with a shock pistol just wasn't very much fun.

[Carmelita Fox]

Twirling her shock pistol around her finger, she'd just been ready to sheath it into its holster when she'd heard him. Her whole body stiffened at his voice, her tail halted in its methodic swaying. Her grip on her gun tightened fractionally as she fought the instinctual impulse to round on him and open fire. However, recent memories drove every reaction she could conjure up out the window. In that singular moment, Carmelita Fox realized she was desperately unprepared for this situation.

Unable to confront the raccoon after what she'd done to him, Carm turned to the only other alternative. She got angry. It didn't matter whether he'd really had amnesia the whole time or not; at some point he'd no longer had amnesia and had begun lying to her. For who knows how long, he'd lead her on believing he'd not once thought about returning to a life of crime. Not that she hadn't had her suspicions. After all, it was incredibly hard to miss the wistful glances he'd stolen at the artifacts, jewels, and treasures they had been tasked with protecting so many times.

Scowling, both at the raccoon and to herself, she didn't even turn to face the ring-tail. "Stow it, Cooper." Carmelita began walking swiftly down the street, keeping her eyes peeled for any more thugs. Unfortunately, as she rounded a corner, there was indeed one dim-witted enough to attempt a frontal assault on her. However, the fox was no longer in any mood to deal with this scum. Without even a thought on the matter, she fired a single pulse rom her pistol, dead between his eyes, and the brute plummeted a moment after.

One could practically see the growing thunderstorm over the woman's head. "Let me guess, Cooper." Carm pointedly avoided calling him anything except the raccoon's last name; she was too infuriated with herself to allow herself the privilege. "Getting into more trouble trying to wrangle against this crook." Obviously, it wasn't a question. "You're lucky I'm here on a job or I'd lock you into the closest detention cell." Okay, even she had to admit, that was just a little harsh. However, Carmelita, herself, wasn't feeling very lucky at the moment. In fact, she was feeling downright rotten.

But, it was all the raccoon's fault! Of course, he had to go and land himself in the same world she'd found herself. And, naturally, he just had to fall back into his old routine; as if she needed a reminder of how awful she'd been while trying to change who he was. The worst of it, though, was that he had o go and act as if none of that mattered and as if everything was okay. Unable to keep her self-loathing in anymore, Carmelita's ears twitched and she spun around and charged up a powerful shot. Firing onto the roof, she watched another thug fall to the ground, half of the building's structure getting scorched from her discharge of her pistol. These idiots were unimaginably noisy when they were trying to be sneaky.