Who: Felix and Hathaway Where: Outside, Pam's Room, Marco's Room When: Mid-afternoon
Felix felt as if he'd been waiting for hours, glued to the video feeds, for the time to be right. And, well, he had, now that he was looking at the small digital clock on the monitor. Marco had been out of his room for most of the day, but who knew how long his movie marathon in the theater would last. His eyes danced between the feed in the theater and Pam's room, trying to remember when he'd been roped into a stakeout like this before. The last time he'd done a little breaking and entering, which had been about a week before his disappearance. He was about due.
That introvert weirdo, Chase, had been gone since mid-morning too, taking one of the bikes with him, and for a heartbeat Felix contemplated sneaking in there for some supplies to aid in his plan. He'd even mapped out the placement of the caltrops (seriously, who the fuck made caltrops?) in relation to the window, but thought better on it a second later. He only knew which traps the guy had laid out right before he left, and who knew what else there might be out of view of the cameras. He'd seen the video of Marco sneaking in, three times for science, and he wasn't really in the mood to tempt fate. Still, he needed the guy gone in order for this to work, even if Felix wasn't actually going in.
Waiting for the rest of the plan to line up had left him with, maybe, a little too much time on his hands, and he'd gotten a little....creative. Admittedly, the whole thing was probably a lot funnier in his head, but he couldn't help the grin that sprouted over his face at the grouping of supplies he'd gathered that morning. A few washcloths from the downstairs bathroom that he'd smuggled under his shirt. Two small containers of black ink that he'd pocketed from the craft room. And two notes, etched in terrible handwriting completely unlike his own. He wondered if he'd get points for creativity. Honestly, he didn't even care at this point.
He waited until Pam had left her room and cleared the stairs before nonchalantly making his way down to her room, the garbage bag he'd used to bring his clothes up from Cassi's stashed in his shirt, sipping from a bottle of water from the kitchen. He wasn't worried about being seen, because at this point he could have been going anywhere, to do anything. On his way down the stairs he saw Kiley on the flight below him, and he slowed his descent just to make sure he'd miss her without being seen. Well, that was another complication he wouldn't need to worry about. When he hit the third floor he took a cursory glance around before walking right up to Pam's room, slipping inside without knocking. For a few seconds he just stood there, taking in the decor. The video feeds hadn't done it justice, and he wasn't quite sure how he felt about that. Blinded, for one. And like he'd walked into a cream puff princess's honeymoon suite. He went to work quickly, making his way to the bathroom to check and make sure that, yes, the fucking octopus was there.
"Hi, Hathaway. We've never met," he murmured to the creature with a look that was half a smile, half a grimace. Because he was gonna have to touch the fucking thing. He unfurled the garbage bag, and instead of grabbing for the tentacled beast with his bare hands he simply dove the top of the bag over it, engulfing it and pulling it out of its watery layer. "Bag, meet Hathaway. Hathaway, bag." He tied the ends once, trying not to notice how the plastic churned as the animal wiggled, then plastered the first note to the front of the shower door.
He carefully set the bag aside, then shoved his hand into his pocket to pull out the first container of ink. Grinning to himself, he quickly back-peddled from the bathroom to the window, leaving a trail of water from the bottle, and black smudgy drops, extra careful not to get any on himself. He refilled the bottle once more and dumped a second helping on the pale carpet for effect, then grabbed the curtain. A few more dots of ink there, and he tied the mini escape rope he'd made from the washcloths from the end, unlocking and opening the window before letting both curtain and line dangle. It was so stupid, he knew, but god dammit he couldn't stop grinning. He made his way back to the bathroom, shouldered the squirming bag while doing his best not to think about the contents. When he headed for the window again, he took a moment to make sure no one was coming up on the front of the house, or walking out of the front door, then slipped carefully out. It took a little bit of maneuvering to make sure he hit the roof of the first floor, even more so to do it as soundlessly as possible, but then he was sneaking across the shingles and around the corner toward Chase's window. He didn't need to go inside, but Marco's window was just above Chase's, and having a vacant sill to scale up was necessary to get there. Getting up was a hell of a lot harder than coming down from Pam's had been, and he ended up having to hold the bag with his teeth before pulling himself up.
Marco's room, it turned out, he liked. A lot. Heck of a lot messier than Pam's had been, but it at least felt lived in. He headed for the bathroom first, figuring out what exactly he was going to do before carefully setting Hathaway down again. This time, the line of ink and water went from the windowsill itself, straight to the toilet, where he paused. His eyes fell on the bag, then the toilet, and for a brief second he actually felt a little bad. What if the octopus got into the pipes? What if it died? He grunted a little with self-disgust, because why the fuck should he care, even as he moved. He lifted he toilet lid, shoved a towel into the bottom so it was nice and stuffed, and then worked at filling the toilet as high as he could with water. When he was done, he upended the bag, Hathaway flailing and plopping into the basin, filling it a hell of a lot more than Felix had been expecting before he closed the lid, careful not to catch any of the animal's tentacles. With that, he left his last note on top of the toilet seat, in full view.
"See ya, buddy," Felix called as he patted the lid twice for good measure. He let the watery leftovers of the bag drip onto the floor in a puddle, tucked it away again, then slipped back out the window.