La Volure gallery is grand and huge. Large corinthian pillars guard the entrance, several dozen steps leading from the street to the great front entrance. Either side of these big, ornate doors there is a large floor length window.
Inside, the walls are white plaster and the floors are white marble, inlaid with veins of yellow. First there is the ticket booth, a large open space in which visitors buy tickets to view the gallery and are stamped for security reasons. There are two entrances, one to the left and one to the right. In place of doors there are metal detectors.
The Miscellaneous Gallery contains quirky and peculiar art from all times and of all worths. In the centre of the gallery there is a security and administration centre. To the left and right there are openings, the left leading to the miscellaneous galleries and Classic Art section, the right to the cafeteria, right gallery #1 and Egyptian Art. The cafeteria has a large window in the centre of its outer wall.
Past the security depot is the Modern Art gallery, to the left of that Right gallery #2 and to the left is the History of Art information centre. There are windows next to both the History of Art and Right gallery #2. The segregated galleries have no windows.

(Is France a mutant friendly type of country? Do they allow obvious mutants to visit museums like normal people? If yes, assume Abyss looks like normal. If no I will edit to describe an illusionary cover that Katrina has made for him.)

Getting in the building had been easy, since it was during museum hours. It wouldn't be a very effective museum if it didn't allow people in to see the artwork. She was carrying no metal, so going through the metal detectors was not a problem.

Katrina was currently in line at the admissions desk. She wore a pair of jeans and a baggy sweatwhirt with a brand name logo on it. She was dressed more casually than she normally would be, but she was trying to blend in. There were several school groups at the museum on field trips, but Katrina was here with her "father" rather than a school group.

Finally they reached the desk where they could buy thier tickets. Since she was 12, she was no longer eligible for the children's discount. Oh well, she wasn't the one who was going to be paying anyway.

(For my own reference: Stats. Also, let me know if the pics don't work. I'm attempting to take the lazy way.)

Finally they finished paying their admission prices and were free to explore the gallery. Katrina grabbed Abyss' hand and tugged him in the direction of the first gallery on the right. She knew the prize was not in this gallery, but it would be silly to make a bee line for the crown jewel. That and she might not be able to some back to this particular museum for some quite some time. It would be nice to enjoy looking at the artwork as long as they were here. The entrance to the gallery was through the cafeteria.

In the first gallery was filled with Asian art. Katrina admired the scroll paintings and the jade carvings, bouncing ahead of Abyss at times in excitement, sometimes mixing in with the school groups that were listening to tour guides lecture about the history of Buddhism. She always came back though, to grab Abyss' hand and pull him toward the next really cool piece of artwork that he simply had to see.



Next they went to the modern art section, passing the security station on the way. The guards looked bored, watching school children, families, and retired couples look at art.

Sometimes modern art confused Katrina. Some of it was really cool like the mobiles by Alexander Calder, other pieces looked like a twelve year old had drawn them. She glanced at a painting by Ellsworth Kelly. It was a vertical black line on a white canvas.





"I don't understand that one Daddy," she confided in Abyss as she pointed at it. She continued to glance around the gallery taking in the artwork as well as the location of the security cameras and guards.
After she grew tired of the Asian art, they headed next to the Egyptian gallery to look at the mummies. Mummies were cool no matter what age you were and the were people of all ages in that gallery visiting the long diceased pharoahs. Katrina looked through the glass cases at black carved statues of the Egyptian gods. According to the information plaques, Anubis was half jackal half human who guarded the dead. Bastet was a cat woman with sunlight shining from her eyes. Isis was a woman with magical powers and healing abilities.

"Do you think that the Egyptian gods were really mutants?" Katrina whispered to Abyss. She whispered because she wasn't sure how the rest of the library visitors would feel about mutants being compared to gods.

(OOC - the pictures were a capital idea. I don't know about mutants in France... however, I'm guessing that for a discreet mission you'd want to be inconscpicous so I imagine that Katrina would have cast an illusion on Abyss.)

Tony watched the computer screen and tapped his hand on the desk. Nothing peculiar here... he did a mental count of all the heads he could see on each screen, as he was apt to do when he was bored. He was currently watching the route-screen: every camera had it's own screen, but the route screen flicked through each camera like a slideshow.

"You want a bagel, Tony?"

He sighed and waved his hand, remembering the horrible green fish thing he'd had. What did they call it? Sushi?

Mon diu... he thought, shaking his head and feeling a little sick. They could have told him the fish was raw!

He watched in amusement as the schoolchildren rushed and ambled about. It was always fun to watch the children -they caused riots. It made his job harder, but it was fun to see how the teachers and guides dealt with errant juvenile delinquents who were intent on spitting on the Sunderland collection.

He chuckled, keeping his eyes open for anything interesting.

(OOC - 5+3 stealth didn't beat the security cameras (15)

Philip stood at the entrance of the Egyptian Art centre, guarding it from within. There was little which was more boring than being on static guard duty. He somewhat envied the few men who got the patrol routes - regardless, they had their work cut out for them too.

He held his hands behind his back and rocked on his feet, smiling at a little girl and a huge man wearing a black beret. She seemed excitable, him less enthusiastic but eager nonetheless. He put it down to the beret. He'd yet to see a man wearing a beret who wasn't incredibly artsy by nature - artists, by and large, were either passionately temperamental or nonchalantly self-possessed. He categorised the man with the latter group.

Sighing and letting his eyes drift through the gallery, he took in the sights he'd seen a thousand times before - the ankhs, the tombs, the statuettes. This gallery was enclosed and made to look like the inside of a pyramid, the lighting dim and warm. The walls were a sandy colour, like the slabs they would use in Egypt, and interspersed with heiroglyphics. Occasionally, on the walls, there hung a genuine Egyptian tablet with real, historical picture writing on them.

He glanced over at his companion, Jean-Andre, who was guarding the other side of the door. They shared a smile and went back to observing in sync. All was well.

Katrina had taken in about as much art as she could in one day. They hadn't seen the whole museum, but seeing too many images at once put the brain on overload and it couldn't really appreciate all the beauty after looking at some many pictures. It was time to get to work. Keeping up her excited pace, she skipped right past the guard post. The guards were right in the middle of the building and only one room away from the Classical art section that housed the Mona Lisa. Her illusions wouldn't affect them in their little room, but as soon as they saw what happened on their little T.V. monitors they would be running out and joining the fun. She couldn't fool a security camera with illusions, but she sure could fool real people when they were in range, which would include those guards as soon as they left their little guard room.

(Privately she wondered what they thought of the little girl pulling the big red giant around. She could cover his appearance for the regular guards, but not for the one watching security cameras. They probably thought it was funny but didn't do anything to stop him from entering since their colleagues didn't seem to mind his very mutant-y presence.)

She pulled Abyss right to the Mona Lisa. There was a huge crowd in front of it, but they were able to get up to the front of the group (with much wriggling through people on Katrina's part and people getting out of Abyss' way on his part).

Katrina reached out her finger, “Look Daddy, why is she smiling like that?” She put her finger too close to the canvas, where she knew she would trip the alarm. At the same time she separated her illusion of the human Abyss from the real one. The illusion would behave himself, scolding his daughter for almost touching the painting and apologizing profusely to the security guards who would be bound to come over to give his daughter a talking to. The other illusion was an illusion of the Mona Lisa, hanging in it's place on the wall smirking perhaps a little more than normal. The real Abyss and Mona were cast into invisibility.

Jacques heard the man speaking to him, but he was too flustered with the alarm to take any real notice until he heard the word, "leaving".

"Uh, I'm sorry sir," He said, placing an arm on the huge man's shoulder, "I'm afraid you'll have to stay where you are for the time being." He said in a heavy French accent.

He looked over his shoulder, where some other guards had arrived immediately and were blocking the exit to the gallery, trying to make everyone stay calm and just cooperate.

"It's nothing to worry about, sir, just procedure."

***

Tony looked in alarm at the centre screen, instantly panicked when the red light started to flash. Adrenaline pumped through is system - it was the Classical Art gallery.

"Putain!!!"

He lunged at the screen and stared at it, looking for anything amiss. His eye darted here and there; what was going on?

Suddenly he frowned and leant in even closer. Oh shit. Oh crap, it was the Mona Lisa... Oh Jesus H. Christ, that guy just became two guys!!! He couldn't for sure make them out for clear, but suddenly there were two in that beret and coat where before there was one, and God he didn't know what to do!!!!

He pulled out his walkie talkie and pushed the button.

"Classical Art gallery, security breach. There's something strange going on with the two large men. They're wearing the same outfits, you can't miss them. Over."

***

Jacques was milling about the gallery, slightly panicked and trying to ignore the nervous chattering of the sight seers. His walkie talkie made its trademark buzzing sound. He pulled it out and placed it to his ear.

"Classical Art gallery, security breach. There's something strange going on with the two large men. They're wearing the same outfits, you can't miss them. Over."

He looked around, searching for the man and his daughter. There he was. He cast his eyes about again, looking for the other.

He spoke into the small contraption, "Only one man in sight. I repeat, only one man in sight. Can I get a location? Over."

***

Tony listened to the reply and screwed his face up.

"There're two of them, right there! You just cast your eyes straight over them! Over."

"I repeat, I can't get a visual. Over."

Tony cursed, not only at the stupidity of this guard but at the urgency of the situation.

"Just make sure nobody leaves the gallery. There's something going on here. I'm calling for backup. Over."

"Is it that serious??!"

Tony waited a while for the over, just a second, until he realised one wasn't forthcoming, then he pressed his own mouth against the reciever.

"Mon dieu, arrête de faire l’imbécile!! C'est Mona Lisa!!!"

Katrina looked around with an alarmed expression on her face. “I didn’t touch it! Honest! Why do we have to leave?” she protested, against being scolded, against being picked up, against the guards who were telling Abyss that he couldn’t leave. She twisted half way around to look at the security guards.

>>>"It's nothing to worry about, sir, just procedure."

Katrina wasn’t worried, but her voice sounded like she was, “Can’t you turn the alarm off? I only pointed at it. I didn’t hurt it. See? You can see with your own eyes that it isn’t hurt or anything.” Katrina covered her ears against the blaring noise and several of the other children in the gallery were doing the same.

The guards standing right here could see the Mona Lisa with their own eyes, but anyone watching the feed from the video cameras would see the truth, that the painting was gone and there was a smiley face in its place. These guards didn’t know that, though, unless the ones on the walkie-talkies told them that.

>>>"Classical Art gallery, security breach. There's something strange going on with the two large men. They're wearing the same outfits, you can't miss them. Over."
Oh yeah, and the fact that they were bright red, at least on the security cameras. Abyss’ clone was safely back in the void now with the painting, so they were back down to one.

>>>"Only one man in sight. I repeat, only one man in sight. Can I get a location? Over."
>>>"Just make sure nobody leaves the gallery. There's something going on here. I'm calling for backup. Over."
>>>"Is it that serious??!"
>>>"Mon dieu, arrête de faire l’imbécile!! C'est Mona Lisa!!!"

“Daddy? All I did was point at it.” There was a hint of a whine in Katrina’s voice, but she wasn’t really that worried. It was part of the show, and the second act was about to begin.

Back-up? What a capital idea.

Katrina remembered back to her observations of the guards she had seen thus far this morning. There had been two near the Egyptian Art exhibit, but she only needed one. The other would probably have to stay to guard the Egyptian art. Katrina chose the skinnier one and imagined him bursting through the doorway of the gallery at a fast pace. He skidded to a halt next to Jacques. He had looked alarmed when he first came in, but his face quickly turned to one of annoyance as he gestured toward the painting that was still hanging seemingly untouched on the wall.

“What’s going on here?” the new arrival growled. He was the spitting image of Jean-Andre, but his voice scratchy and low with a cold, “You dragged me all ze way over here because some little girl got too close to ze painting? Have you forgotten how to reset ze alarms? Where is ze emergency here? You are scaring all of ze guests!” Katrina hoped she had gotten his voice close to the way it would sound in real life or hidden enough by the “cold” that it wouldn’t matter. Hopefully the real Jean-Andre wouldn’t appear.

As if on cue, one of the small children, he couldn’t have been much older that four started crying, his voice mixing with the angry sound of the alarm.

From the walkie-talkie came the voice of Tony again, but this time it said what Katrina wanted it to say, “The thieves! I can see them again! Two large men are trying to open the window across from the History of Art Gallery! They have the painting with them!”

“Ze painting… but it eez right here on ze wall!” The pseudo Jean-Andre said, seemingly confused. These poor guards, surely they would think their boss was crazy soon. Would they stay with the people in the gallery, or chase after the “thieves” at the window?

(OOC - Hey guys sorry for slooow reply, and Kat I've totally misunderstood your power. Illusions don't show up on cameras... *rolls eyes at self* if I had a brain I'd be dangerous. lmao Sorry - It won't happen again.)

Tony was in a flux, his face red and moments away from a permanant grimace. He wasn't really sure what to do... he turned around to his companion, his face clueless and beseeching. However authoritive and confident he'd seemed to the guards, he was actually quite lost and confounded.

"What do we do??!" He asked breathlessly. Now, he knew when he signed up for the job this was a possibility - the problem was, he'd always prayed that this kind of thing would happen when someone else was heading security.

The other guard marched over the took charge. "Stupid man, get a grip on yourself." He said brusquelly, before searching the cameras.

"N-Nothing's missing-" Tony said quickly, in a bid to redeem himself.
He watched the other guard stop and grow pale, his eyes stiff and wide.

"What?" He asked, scrabbling forward, "What is it??" He glued his own eyes to the camera and flicked his gaze about. The sound of the alarm and the red flashing light on the camera monitor was getting to him, every chorus of the sight and sound driving him crazy.

"The painting, you fool! The painting!" The burly man replied, spinning around and rushing from the room.

Tony leant forward and stared intently, then his jaw dropped. He felt that sushi rise back up into his throat, as his stomach clenched tight. A cold thrill went through him.

The Mona Lisa gone. In its place... a cheap, round smily face. The kind of face you'd find on a tobacco tin, or a t-shirt... oh God, he felt sick.
Unable to move and unsure as to what, exactly, he should do next, he just sat and stared at the fraudulent painting before picking up his walkie-talkie once more and pushing the button down.

* * *

Jacques was about as sure of what to do as Tony was. He looked back at Jean-Andre, then at the pair, then around once more for this mysterious other man. His mouth opened and closed like the way a goldfish gasps for air.
He didn't see what else he could really do... and Jean-Andre did seem so confident. If all else failed, surely Jean-Andre would take charge? Yes, that was it. Leave it to Jean-Andre. That way, Jacques didn't have to handle so much responsiblity.
He looked back at the father and daughter, nodding at them.

His walkie-talkie buzzed, making him jump. The museum curator had arrived and was looking at the painting, whilst sevreal guards were making a ring around Mona Lisa so that the incarcerated and panicked tourists didn't disturb her.

"Red alert! Red alert! The Mona Lisa is gone! All available units to Classical Art, over!"

Jacques melted inside a little, or more aptly his blood set like jelly and his heart sank like a bring. He paled... please, he didn't have to deal with this. This was a dream. Not the Mona Lisa. Not that. Oh God, he was going to go down in history as the man who let the Mona Lisa be stolen!!!
He looked back at the painting, checking for himself. He frowned. His hand shaking, the radio was brought to his mouth though he couldn't keep it steady.

"The painting is secure. I repeat, the painting is secure. The curator is examining it now."

"Wh-yes, I see that. Why is she not doing anything? Over."

Jacques frowned. "There's no cause for concern. A child got too close to the alarm. Jean-Andre is keeping an eye on the child and her father until the alarm is reset."

There was a brief pause, and Jacques kicked himself again for forgetting to add the, 'over'. He always forgot that. But... but at least the painting was safe. Any painting was bad... but the Mona Lisa would have killed him.

"rese-fals-JEAN-ANDRE??? Jean-Andre is still in the opposite gallery, guarding the door? OVER!"

* * *

Tony was almost having a colliption. Jean-Andre? Reset the alarm? What were they talking about??
He looked closely at the screen, watching the curator smile and check the vitals calmly. Was she an idiot? It must be staring her in the face! He could be excused, surely - he was looking on from a camera. But to be there, right in front of it, and not to see the big smily face!

"No, Jean-Andre is here in Classic Art. I can see him. He's leading the parent and child to the door to wait."

Tony looked at the bottom-most camera and looked for the man, then back at the middle set screen. Nooo.... Jean-Andre was in the opposite gallery, just like he'd said.

"Stupid man, Jean-Andre is not there! The parent and child are alone! Over - and for God's sake, in future let me know when you're finished with an over, would you?"

There was a long wait before the reply came. "Um - does that mean you're not over? Because you didn-"

"Shut up! Just shut up! A guard is on his way. And for heaven's sake, there's something peculiar with those two people! Stop them!" He screamed into the walkie-talkie, spittle flying over the monitors. As an afterthought, he grabbed the radio again and added, "Over!!!!" Before slamming back onto the table and running his fingers through his hair, close to frustrated tears.

* * *

Henri rushed past the other guards and into Classical Art, bustling through the throng and making his way over to the painting.
He stopped dead, his heart pleased that the curator was there: Thank God, she'd see!
He skidded to a halt and looked up, his face going slack. He blinked.
The Mona Lisa was fine. There she was, hanging as normal... famous expression normal and unaltered, pale complexion white and not yellow nor tacky in the least... and the curator seemed pleased enough.
He struggled over to her, pointing a finger manically.

"Wait!" He said, before she could do anything to the alarm. "That painting... is a fraud!!" He declared with a dogged jab of his finger.

She raised an eyebrow. She was a tall woman, sleek and chic. Her black bobbed hair hung down in points, her bangs longer than the hair itself. "What are you talking about," she said in a cold, cut-glass English accent, looking around cagily at the gathered tourists, "The Mona Lisa is fine." She said, louder so that they'd hear.

"It's not! On the cameras, it's a fake. Back in the security-" He said, gesticulating wildly before she cut him off.
"Be quiet." She said in warning, her eyes casting around the crowd again. "Do you think I'm a fool? I know the Mona Lisa when I see it. This is the original. You think I couldn't spot a fake?"

"Obviously not!" He shot back, not sure what was going on but desperate for support. He pulled his walkie-talkie out and pushed the button violently, "Tony! Feedback from Classical Art, over."

"There's something going on! Can they not see the fake? Over."

Henri looked at her meaningfully and jabbed the radio at her. She took it, her expression still glacial.

"Please explain. You're scaring the guests." She said, as if to say - just shut up. Still, there was a little panic in her voice... just a little.

"Madame, the Mona Lisa - on the monitor it is not accounted for. It's is a fake. Over"

"How do you mean, how can you tell?" She demanded.

"It's is... a smily face." The tinny voice replied pathetically, then a belated, 'over' sounded out.

"A smily FACE?" She asked incredulously, an instant frown taking over her cold features. She was shaking her head and glaring at Henri.

"I don't know what you're talking about. I'm here with the painting now. There's no reason to beli-"

Henri reached out quickly and snatched the radio from her hand. "Just call the police!" He screamed, looking around like a lost puppy.

(OOC - Okay guys, I think you've won this. Wrap it up whenever you're ready.)

Mischief managed. The whole place was in turmoil now. No one knew what to believe. Katrina was quite proud that her imagination was every bit as good as the original, even to the critical eye of the woman curator, though the woman was partly seeing what she expected to see hanging there.

“Let’s get out of here. Any way you like,” Katrina whispered to Abyss. “I’ll make sure no one notices us leaving.”

Then they were invisible, standing in an illusion of themselves and free to leave in any way that Abyss thought best. No one would notice their exit until they were out of Katrina’s range.