Shelby pulled away with a light dusting of pink on her cheeks and a grin on her lips. A mask was produced and that made the whole idea of an art heist waaay more authentic. This was really happening! Maybe it was the booze, or maybe the thirst for justified revenge, but she liked how it was all coming together.

Shelby watched to see how Steph put hers on, and then followed suit. The only time she had worn a mask like that before had been during Mardigras once, and it hadn't stayed on very long when her girlfriend at the time had gotten her way. Stained most of her face purple for days, too!

"No worries. Not many mutations surprise me these days after my own popped up out of nowhere."

They floated toward the entrance painting that would give them access to the studio and she reached out to snag one of Steph's hands. Despite her resolve, she was still a bit nervous. "Alright. Here goes!"

She touched the frame and they Popped into the storage area one blink later. It was well lit where they landed, with high shelves stacked with cloth-covered paintings of various sizes. The hall ran the entire back of the building with an office at one end, a private locked storage area at the other, and a small bathroom tucked in the middle.

Turning, she sifted through the stack of paintings directly behind them until she found the one they had just exited, as well as the others she had been set to hang.

"Be right back!" She whispered, juggling the large frame in her arms before popping back out of existence for a moment.

Shelby reappeared with her arms free a moment later, out of a different painting, and adjusted to being back. "Oof... doing that too fast is disorienting... this way to the pricey stuff!" She waved Steph along, creeping down the hallway toward the locked room. The roaring sounds of a party in full swing could be heard through the walls, as Bradly had broken out a microphone so that everyone was sure to hear him.

Ride or die was one of those phrases that rose to popularity during the years Stephanie no longer remembered. She understood the idea now, because Shelby, with no advanced warning or established relationship, was ride or die. Not many people threw themselves into a crime so readily; this had some promise.

Mental note: it would be very unfortunate for this girl to be an awful thief.

When Steph touched the framed portal, nothing happened, proving Shelby had to be the one open the door. Without liquor, Steph could have considered how terrifying a power that was, to be able to trap people in paintings. Not tonight, though. Tonight, it was more of a, “Fuck yeah, art portal world!”

Holding her breath, Steph waited until, all at once, she popped into the real world. As promised, instead of the sidewalk, they emerged in the abandoned backroom. The sounds of high society, muffled by doors and hallways, could be made out from the other room. Success!

Time passed before the swimming of Steph’s head stopped. The feeling was different from shadow-hopping. She got to be a shadow for that. Shelby excused herself and Steph—who should be Silhouette any minute now—could not argue before she popped away. That gave Steph the chance to look at the painting Shelby left behind in earnest.

Wait. No, no, no, that was dumb and made no sense. Steph was here on a Syndicate freelance job to steal one specific piece and at least three others to keep the target less obvious. Why on earth, of all the paintings, did the mysterious benefactor of this job want Shelby’s painting?

On cue, the pink-haired artist popped back and Steph had to fight the instinct to jump. Not only was that mutation a weird little jump scare, but Steph suddenly felt guilty knowing she was sent here specifically to steal her new friend’s art.

”Ambitious, I like that.” There were some high-priced pieces stored here. Why were those not the target?

Steph followed, grimacing at the voice of the pretentious bigot on a microphone, switching her change of thought. ”Dumb men like to be loud, she muttered. ”I’m sorry part of being a creative is selling yourself to idiots like that.”

Getting to the back of the hall, Silhouette looked into the two doors. The office was useless to her, though she noted what she saw, in case it became useful. The other door had a small window near the top. Discretely, her shadow peered under the door, but the thief felt the resistance as it met darkness within.

Thinking for a moment, the best idea she came up with involved her phone. It was disconnected from service because she researched phone tracking since her return, but she could turn on a flashlight function. Looking at the window, it was easily in Silhouette’s reach, but… well, she had a significant number of inches on Shelby. ”Do you think you can hold the light up through that window? On your tiptoes maybe? I swear I’m not teasing you for being a shorty.” It only sounded like it.